The Diary Of A Killer Cat. The Return Of The Killer Cat. The Killer Cat Strikes Back. The Killer Cat's Birthday Bash. The Killer Cat's Christmas. The Killer Cat Runs Away

1. THE DIARY OF A KILLER CAT

1: MONDAY

Okay, okay. So hang me. I killed the bird. For pityís sake, Iím acat. Itís practically myjob to go creeping round the garden after sweet little eensy-weensy birdy-pies that can hardly fly from one hedge to another. So what am I supposed to do when one of the poor feathery little flutterballs just about throws itself into my mouth? I mean, it practically landed on my paws. It could havehurt me.

Okay,okay. So I biffed it. Is that any reason for Ellie to cry in my fur so hard I almostdrown, and squeeze me so hard I almostchoke?

ĎOh, Tuffy!í she says, all sniffles and red eyes and piles of wet tissues. ĎOh, Tuffy. How could youdo that?í

How could Ido that? Iím acat. How did I know there was going to be such a giant great fuss, with Ellieís mother rushing off to fetch sheets of old newspaper, and Ellieís father filling a bucket with soapy water?

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Okay,okay. So maybe I shouldnít have dragged it in and left it on the carpet. And maybe the stains wonít come out, ever.

Sohang me.

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2: TUESDAY

I quite enjoyed the little funeral. I donít think they really wanted me to come, but, after all, itís just as much my garden as theirs. In fact, I spend a whole lot more time in it than they do. Iím the only one in the family who uses it properly.

Not that theyíre grateful. You ought to hear them.

ĎThat cat isruining my flower beds. There are hardly any of the petunias left.í

ĎIíd barelyplanted the lobelias before it was lying on top of them, squashing them flat.í

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ĎIdo wish it wouldnít dig holes in the anemones.í

Moan, moan, moan, moan. I donít know why they bother to keep a cat, since all they ever seem to do is complain.

All except Ellie. She was too busy being soppy about the bird. She put it in a box, and packed it round with cotton wool, and dug a little hole, and then we all stood round it while she said a few words, wishing the bird luck in heaven.

ĎGo away,í Ellieís father hissed at me. (I find that man quite rude.) But I just flicked my tail at him. Gave him the blink. Who does he think he is? If I want to watch a little birdyís funeral, Iíll watch it. After all, Iíve known the bird longer than any of them have. I knew it when it wasalive.

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3: WEDNESDAY

So spank me! I brought a dead mouse into their precious house. I didnít even kill it. When I came across it, it was already a goner. Nobodyís safe around here. This avenue is ankle-deep in rat poison, fast cars charge up and down at all hours, and Iím not the only cat around here. I donít even know what happened to the thing. All I know is, I found it. It was already dead. (Fresh dead, but dead.) And at the time I thought it was a good idea to bring it home. Donít ask me why. I must have been crazy. How did I know that Ellie was going to grab me and give me one of her little talks?

ĎOh, Tuffy! Thatís the second time this week. I canít bear it. I know youíre a cat, and itís natural and everything. But please, for my sake, stop.í

She gazed into my eyes.

ĎWill you stop? Please?í

I gave her the blink. (Well, I tried. But she wasnít having any.)

ĎImean it, Tuffy,í she told me. ĎI love you, and I understand how you feel. But youíve got to stop doing this, okay?í

She had me by the paws. What could I say? So I tried to look all sorry. And then she burst into tears all over again, and we had another funeral.

This place is turning into Fun City. It really is.

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4: THURSDAY

Okay, okay! Iíll try and explain about the rabbit. For starters, I donít think anyoneís given me enough credit for getting it through the cat flap. That wasnot easy. I can tell you, it took about an hour to get that rabbit through that little hole. That rabbit was downrightfat. It was more like a pig than a rabbit, if you want my opinion.

Not that any of them cared what I thought. They were going mental.

ĎItís Thumper!í cried Ellie. ĎItís next-doorís Thumper!í

ĎOh, Lordy!í said Ellieís father. ĎNow weíre in trouble. What are we going to do?í

Ellieís mother stared at me.

ĎHow could a catdo that?í she asked. ĎI mean, itís not like a tiny bird, or a mouse, or anything. That rabbit is the same size as Tuffy. They both weigh aton.í

Nice. Very nice. This is myfamily, Iíll have you know. Well, Ellieís family. But you take my point.

And Ellie, of course, freaked out. She went berserk.

ĎItís horrible,í she cried. ĎHorrible. I canít believe that Tuffy could have done that. Thumperís been next door for years and years and years.í

Sure. Thumper was a friend. I knew him well.

She turned on me.

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ĎTuffy! This is the end. That poor, poor rabbit. Look at him!í

And Thumper did look a bit of a mess, I admit it. I mean, most of it was only mud. And a few grass stains, I suppose. And there were quite a few bits of twig and stuff stuck in his fur. And he had a streak of oil on one ear. But no one gets dragged the whole way across a garden, and through a hedge, and over another garden, and through a freshly-oiled cat flap, and ends up looking as if theyíre just off to a party.

And Thumper didnít care what he looked like. He wasdead.

The rest of them minded, though. They minded alot.

ĎWhat are we going to do?í

ĎOh, this is dreadful. Next-door will never speak to us again.í

ĎWe must think of something.í

And they did. I have to say, it was a brilliant plan, by any standards. First, Ellieís father fetched the bucket again, and filled it with warm soapy water. (He gave me a bit of a look as he did this, trying to make me feel guilty for the fact that heíd had to dip his hands in the old Fairy Liquid twice in one week. I just gave him my old ĎI-am-not-impressedí stare back.)

Then Ellieís mother dunked Thumper in the bucket and gave him a nice bubbly wash and a swill-about. The water turned a pretty nasty brown colour. (All that mud.) And then, glaring at me as if it were allmy fault, they tipped it down the sink and began over again with fresh soap suds.

Ellie was snivelling, of course.

ĎDo stop that, Ellie,í her mother said. ĎItís getting on my nerves. If you want to do something useful, go and fetch the hairdrier.í

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So Ellie trailed upstairs, still bawling her eyes out.

I sat on the top of the dresser, and watched them.

They up-ended poor Thumper and dunked him again in the bucket. (Good job he wasnít his old self. Heíd have hated all this washing.) And when the water finally ran clear, they pulled him out and drained him.

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Then they plonked him on newspaper, and gave Ellie the hairdrier.

ĎThere you go,í they said. ĎFluff him up nicely.í

Well, she got right into it, I can tell you. That Ellie could grow up to be a real hot-shot hairdresser, the way she fluffed him up. I have to say, I never saw Thumper look so nice before, and he lived in next-doorís hutch for years and years, and I saw him every day.

ĎHiya, Thump,í Iíd sort of nod at him as I strolled over the lawn to check out what was left in the feeding bowls further down the avenue.

ĎHi, Tuff,í heíd sort of twitch back.

Yes, we were good mates. We were pals. And so it was really nice to see him looking so spruced up and smart when Ellie had finished with him.

He lookedgood.

ĎWhat now?í said Ellieís father.

Ellieís mum gave him a look Ė the sort of look she sometimes gives me, only nicer.

ĎOh, no,í he said. ĎNot me. Oh, no, no, no, no, no.í

ĎItís you or me,í she said. ĎAnd I canít go, can I?í

ĎWhy not?í he said. ĎYouíre smaller than I am. You can crawl through the hedge easier.í

Thatís when I realized what they had in mind. But what could I say? What could I do to stop them? Toexplain?

Nothing. Iím just a cat.

I sat and watched.

5: FRIDAY

I call it Friday because they left it so late. The clock was already well past midnight by the time Ellieís father finally heaved himself out of his comfy chair in front of the telly and went upstairs. When he came down again he was dressed in black. Black from head to foot.

ĎYou look like a cat burglar,í said Ellieís mother.

ĎI wish someone would burgleour cat,í he muttered.

I just ignored him. I thought that was best.

Together they went to the back door.

ĎDonít switch the outside light on,í he warned her. ĎYou never know who might be watching.í

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I tried to sneak out at the same time, but Ellieís mother held me back with her foot.

ĎYou can just stay inside tonight,í she told me. ĎWeíve had enough trouble from you this week.í

Fairís fair. And I heard all about it anyway, later, from Bella and Tiger and Pusskins. They all reported back. (Theyíre good mates.) They all saw Ellieís father creeping across the lawn, with his plastic bag full of Thumper (wrapped nicely in a towel to keep him clean). They all saw him forcing his way through the hole in the hedge, and crawling across next-doorís lawn on his tummy.

ĎCouldnít thinkwhat he was doing,í Pusskins said afterwards.

ĎRuined the hole in the hedge,í complained Bella. ĎHeís made it so big that the Thompsonís rottweiler could get through it now.í

ĎThat father of Ellieís must have the most dreadful night vision,í said Tiger. ĎIt took him forever to find that hutch in the dark.í

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ĎAnd prise the door open.í

ĎAnd stuff in poor old Thumper.í

ĎAnd set him out neatly on his bed of straw.í

ĎAll curled up.í

ĎWith the straw patted up round him.í

ĎSo it looked as if he was sleeping.í

ĎIt was very, very lifelike,í said Bella. ĎIt could have fooled me. If anyone just happened to be passing in the dark, theyíd really have thought that poor old Thumper had just died happily and peacefully in his sleep, after a good life, from old age.í

They all began howling with laughter.

ĎSshh!í I said. ĎKeep it down, guys. Theyíll hear, and Iím not supposed to be out tonight. Iím grounded.í

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They all stared at me.

ĎGet away with you!í

ĎGrounded?í

ĎWhatfor?í

ĎMurder,í I said. ĎFor cold-blooded bunnicide.í

That set us all off again. We yowled and yowled. The last I heard before we took off in a gang up Beechcroft Drive was one of the bedroom windows being flung open, and Ellieís father yelling, ĎHow did you get out, you crafty beast?í

So whatís he going to do? Nail up the cat flap?

6: STILL FRIDAY

He nailed up the cat flap. Would youbelieve this man? He comes down the stairs this morning, and before heís even out of his pyjamas heís set to work with the hammer and a nail.

Bang, bang, bang, bang!

Iím giving him the stare, I really am. But then he turns round and speaks to me directly.

ĎThere,í he says. ĎThatíll fix you. Now it swingsthis wayĖí He gives the cat flap a hefty shove with his foot. ĎBut it doesnít swingthis way.í

And, sure enough, when the flap tried to flap back in, it couldnít. It hit the nail.

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ĎSo,í he says to me. ĎYou can go out. Feel free to go out. Feel free, in fact, not only to go out, but also to stay out, get lost, or disappear for ever. But should you bother to come back again, donít go to the trouble of bringing anything with you. Because this is now a one-way flap, and so you will have to sit on the doormat until one of the family lets you in.í

He narrows his eyes at me, all nasty-like.

ĎAnd woe betide you, Tuffy, if thereís anything dead lying waiting on the doormat beside you.í

ĎWoe betide youí! What a stupid expression. What on earth does it mean anyway? ĎWoe betide youí!

Woe betidehim.

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7: SATURDAY

I hate Saturday morning. Itís so unsettling, all that fussing and door-banging and ĎHave you got the purse?í and ĎWhereís the shopping list?í and ĎDo we need catfood?í Of course we need catfood. What else am I supposed to eat all week? Air?

They were all pretty quiet today, though. Ellie was sitting at the table carving Thumper a rather nice gravestone out of half a leftover cork floor tile. It said:

Thumper

Rest in peace

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ĎYou mustnít take it round next-door yet,í her father warned her. ĎNot till theyíve told us Thumperís dead, at any rate.í

Some people are born soft. Her eyes brimmed with tears.

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ĎThere goes Next-door now,í Ellieís mother said, looking out of the window.

ĎWhich way is she headed?í

ĎTowards the shops.í

ĎGood. If we keep well behind, we can get Tuffy to the vetís without bumping into her.í

Tuffy? Vetís?

Ellie was even more horrified than I was. She threw herself at her father, beating him with her soft little fists.

ĎDad! No! You canít!í

I put up a far better fight with my claws. When he finally prised me out of the dark of the cupboard under the sink, his woolly was ruined and his hands were scratched and bleeding all over.

He wasnít very pleased about it.

ĎCome out of there, you great fat furry psychopath. Itís only a íflu jab youíre booked in for Ė moreís the pity!í

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Wouldyou have believed him? I wasnít absolutely sure. (Neither was Ellie, so she tagged along.) I was still quite suspicious when we reached the vetís. That isthe only reason why I spat at the girl behind the desk. There was no reason on earth to write HANDLE WITH CARE at the top of my case notes. Even the Thompsonís rottweiler doesnít have HANDLE WITH CARE written on the top of his case notes. Whatís wrong withme?

So I was a little rude in the waiting room. So what? Ihate waiting. And I especially hate waiting stuffed in a wire cat cage. Itís cramped. Itís hot. And itís boring. After a few hundred minutes of sitting there quietly,anyone would start teasing their neighbours. I didnítmean to frighten that little sick baby gerbil half to death. I was onlylooking at it. Itís a free country, isnít it? Canít a cat evenlook at a sweet little baby gerbil?

And if I was licking my lips (which I wasnít) thatís only because I was thirsty. Honestly. I wasnít trying to pretend I was going to eat it.

The trouble with baby gerbils is they canít take ajoke.

And neither can anyone else round here.

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Ellieís father looked up from the pamphlet he was reading calledĎYour Pet and Wormsí. (Oh, nice. Very nice.)

ĎTurn the cage round the other way, Ellie,í he said.

Ellie turned my cage round the other way.

Now I was looking at the Fisherís terrier. (And if thereís any animal in the world who ought to have HANDLE WITH CARE written at the top of his case notes, itís the Fisherís terrier.)

Okay, so I hissed at him. It was only a little hiss. You practically had to have bionic ears tohear it.

And I did growl a bit. But youíd think heíd have a head start on growling. He is a dog, after all. Iím only a cat.

And yes, okay, I spat a bit. But only a bit. Nothing youíd evennotice unless you were waiting to pick on someone.

Well, how wasI to know he wasnít feeling very well? Noteveryone waiting for the vet is ill.I wasnít ill, was I? Actually, Iíve never been ill in my life. I donít even know what itfeels like. But I reckon, even if I weredying, something furry locked in a cage could make an eensy-weensy noise at me without my ending up whimpering and cowering, and scrabbling to get under the seat, to hide behind the knees of my owner.

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More achicken than a Scotch terrier, if you want my opinion.

ĎCould you please keep that vile cat of yours under control?í Mrs Fisher said nastily.

Ellie stuck up for me.

ĎHe is in a cage!í

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ĎHeís still scaring half the animals in here to death. Canít you cover him up, or something?í

Ellie was going to keep arguing, I could tell. But, without even looking up from his worm pamphlet, her father just dropped his raincoat over my cage as if I were some mangy oldparrot or something.

And everything went black.

No wonder by the time the vet came at me with her nasty long needle, I was in a bit of a mood. I didnít mean to scratch her that badly, though.

Or smash all those little glass bottles.

Or tip the expensive new cat scales off the bench.

Or spill all that cleaning fluid.

It wasnít me who ripped my record card into tiny pieces, though. That was the vet.

When we left, Ellie was in tears again. She hugged my cage tightly to her chest.

ĎOh, Tuffy! Until we find a new vet whoíll promise to look after you, you must be so careful not to get run over.í

ĎFat chance!í her father muttered.

I was just glowering at him through the cage wire, when he spotted Ellieís mother, standing knee-deep in shopping bags outside the supermarket.

ĎYouíre very late,í she scolded. ĎWas there a bit of trouble at the vetís?í

Ellie burst into tears. I mean, talk aboutwimp. But her father is made of sterner stuff. Heíd just taken the most huge breath, ready to snitch on me, when suddenly he let it out again. Out of the corner of his eye, heíd spotted trouble of another sort.

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ĎQuick!í he whispered. ĎNext-door is just coming through the check-out.í

He picked up half the shopping bags. Ellieís mother picked up the rest. But before we could get away, Next-door had come through the glass doors.

So now all four of them were forced to chat.

ĎMorning,í said Ellieís father.

ĎMorning,í said Next-door.

ĎNice day,í said Ellieís father.

ĎLovely,í agreed Next-door.

ĎNicer than yesterday,í said Ellieís mother.

ĎOh, yes,í Next-door said. ĎYesterday washorrible.í

She probably just meant the weather, for heavenís sake. But Ellieís eyes filled with tears. (I donít know why she was so fond of Thumper.Iím the one whoís supposed to be her pet, nothim.) And because she couldnít see where she was going properly any more, she bumped into her mother, and half the tins of catfood fell out of one of the shopping bags, and rolled off down the street.

Ellie dumped down my cage, and chased off after them. Then she made the mistake of reading the labels.

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ĎOh, nooo!í she wailed. ĎRabbit chunks!í

(Really, that child is such adrip. Sheíd never make it in our gang. She wouldnít last aweek.)

ĎTalking about rabbit,í said Next-door. ĎThe most extraordinary thing happened at our house.í

ĎReally?í said Ellieís father, glaring at me.

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ĎOh, yes?í said Ellieís mother, glaring at me as well.

ĎYes,í said Next-door. ĎOn Monday, poor Thumper looked a little bit poorly, so we brought him inside. And on Tuesday, he was worse. And on Wednesday he died. He was terribly old, and heíd had a happy life, so we didnít feel too bad about it. In fact we had a little funeral, and buried himin a box at the bottom of the garden.í

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Iím staring up at the clouds now.

ĎAnd on Thursday, heíd gone.í

ĎGone?í

ĎGone?í

ĎYes, gone. And all there was left of him was a hole in the ground and an empty box.í

ĎReally?í

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ĎGood heavens!í

Ellieís father was giving me the most suspicious look.

ĎAnd then, yesterday,í Next-door went on. ĎSomething even more extraordinary happened. Thumper was back again. All fluffed up nicely, and back in his hutch.í

ĎBack in his hutch, you say?í

ĎFluffed up nicely? How strange!í

You have to hand it to them, theyíre good actors. They kept it up all the way home.

ĎWhat an amazing story!í

ĎHow on earth could it have happened?í

ĎQuite astonishing!í

ĎSo strange!í

Till we were safely through the front door. And then, of course, the pair of them turned on me.

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ĎDeceitful creature!í

ĎMaking us think you killed him!í

ĎJust pretending all along!í

ĎIknew that cat could never have done it. That rabbit was even fatter than he is!í

Youíd have thought they allwanted me to have murdered old Thumper.

All except Ellie. She wassweet.

ĎDonít youdare pick on Tuffy!í she told them. ĎYou leave him alone! I bet he didnít even dig poor Thumper up. I bet it was the Fisherís nasty, vicious terrier who did that. All Tuffy did was bring Thumper back to us so we could make sure he was buried again properly. Heís a hero. A kind and thoughtful hero.í

She gave me a big soft squeeze.

ĎIsnít that right, Tuffy?í

Iím saying nothing, am I? Iím a cat. So I just sat and watched while they unnailed the cat flap.

2. THE RETURN OF THE KILLER CAT

1: How it began

OKAY, OKAY! so slap my teensy little furry paws. I messed up.

Big time!

And okay! Tug my tail! It all turned into a bit of a one-cat crime wave.

So what are you going to do? Confiscate my food bowl and tell me Iím a very bad pussy?

But we cats arenítsupposed to hang about like dogs, doing exactly as weíre told, and staring devotedly into your eyes while we wonder if there is some slipper we can fetch you.

We run our own lives, we cats do. I like running mine. And if thereís one thing I canít stand, itís wasting the days and nights when the family are on holiday.

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ĎOh, Tuffy!í fretted Ellie, giving me the Big Farewell Squeeze. (I gave her the cool blink that means: ĎCareful, Ell! Stay on the right side of cuddle here, or youíll get the Big Scratch in return.í) ĎOh, Tuffy! Weíll be away for a whole week!í

A whole week? Magic words! A whole week of sunning myself in the flower beds without Ellieís mother shrieking, ĎTuffy! Get out of there! Youíre flattening whole patches!í

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A whole week of lolling about on top of the telly without Ellieís fatherís endless nagging: ĎTuffy! Shift your tail! Itís dangling over the goalmouth!í

And, best of all, a whole week of not being scooped up and shoved in next-doorís old straw baby basket and stroked and petted by Ellie and her soppy friend Melanie.

ĎOoh, you are lucky, Ellie! I wishI had a a pet like Tuffy. Heís so soft and furry.í

Of course Iím soft and furry. Iím acat.

And I am clever, too. Clever enough to realize it wasnít Mrs Tanner coming to house-and-cat-sit as usualÖ

ĎÖ no, she suddenly had to rush off to her daughter in Dorset Ö so if you hear of anyone who could do it Ö only six daysÖ well, if youíresure, Vicar. Yes, well. So long as youíre comfortable with catsÖí

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Who cares if the vicarís comfortable? Iím the cat.

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2: Home not-so-sweet home

UH-UH! MR Houseproud!

ĎOff those cushions, Tuffy. I donít think youíre supposed to be lolling about on the sofa.í

Excuse me! Had the vicar not noticed it was me he was talking to? So what was I supposed to be doing? Mopping the floor? Tapping away on the computer? Digging the garden?

ĎTuffy! Donít scratch the furniture.í

Hell-oooo? Whose house? His? Or mine? If I want to scratch furniture, Iíll scratch it.

Worst of all:ĎNo, Tuffy! Iím not opening a fresh tin until youíve finished this.í

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I took a peek atĎthisí. It was hard. It was lumpy. It was yesterdayís grub.

And I wasnít eating it.

I walked away. The last thing I heard was Reverend Barnham calling after me:ĎGome back and finish your supper.í

In his dreams! I was off out. I met up with the gangĖ Tiger and Bella and Pusskins Ė and told them I hadnít had supper. They were hungry too, so we sat on the wall and had a bit of a yowl about where to eat.

ĎFancy peeling the pepperoni off a leftover pizza?í

ĎFish without chips?í

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ĎI could murder a nice bit of steak.í

ĎWhoís thinking stir-fried beef strips with scraped-off soy?í

In the end we went Chinese. (Love those ducksí feet!) Tiger strolled off on a smell tour down the alley to find the right place, and then we played ĎRip the Bagsí. (We all won that one.) Before you knew it, it was a pleasant supper on the wall.

ĎVery tasty.í

ĎExcellent.í

ĎNice choice. We must remember to eat here more often.í

ĎAnd generous portions. Here is a family not afraid to waste food properly.í

Unlike my friend, the vicar. Next morning he was still shoving the dried-up grub in front of me.ĎTuffy, Iím not opening a fresh tin. If you were truly hungry, youíd eat this.í

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Oh, would I? I didnít think so.

While he was waiting, the vicar stared out of the window.ĎLook at that mess in the garden! Greasy paper wrappings! Ripped-up takeaway food cartons! And that awful yowling kept me awake for hours. Donít think Iím letting you out again tonight.í

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I might be deaf to nagging, but I have ears. Thanks for the warning, Reverend! I crept upstairs and patted at the latch on the small bathroom window until it was the way I like it: far enough down to look as if it was still closed from yesterday; far enough up for one good paw push to open it.

As for that mess in the gardenĖ donít knock it! It was breakfast.

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3: Mistake!

OKAY, OKAY! So it was a bit mean to hold that nightís Talent Contest right under the vicarís bedroom window. Bella sang ĎBeoooooooooooooooooootiful Dreeeeeamerí. Tiger sang ĎRolling Along to New Orleeeeeeeeeeeeansí. Pusskins did his ĎYodelling Songí, and I did my brilliant imitation of Ellie when the car door slammed on her finger.

Still, no need for the vicar to get his knickers in such a twist.ĎIf I catch a single one of you, Iíll have your guts for garters!í

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I didnít come home early. But everyone needs their sleep, so in the end the gang and I split up, and I strolled back. It was a beautiful morning. The only thing spoiling it was his voice. I could hear him three streets away.

ĎTuff-eee!Tuff-eeee!í

I crept along in the shadow of next-doorís hedge. Melanie was leaning over it. ĎPlease, Reverend Barnham,í she interrupted him. ĎDoes prayingwork?í

He stared at her as if sheíd asked him something like, ĎDo trains eat custard?í

Melanie tried again.ĎYouíre always saying to people, ďLet us prayĒ. Well, does it work?í

ĎWork?í

ĎYes. Do people get what they pray for? If I prayed really, really, really hard for something, would I get it?í

ĎWhat sort of thing?í Reverend Barnham asked her suspiciously.

Melanie clasped her hands together.ĎA pet all of my own to cuddle. A pet who is soft and furry and warm, just like Tuffy behind the hedge here.í

Well, thank you, Melanie! I took off, fast. And he was chasing me. Thatís why, instead of going up the apple tree as usual, I took that flying leap on to the handle of the lawn mower, and then up in the pear tree.

But when you get to the top of that, you find you have only two choicesÖ

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _14.jpg]

1. You can jump from the top branch through a closed and locked bathroom window. (Uh-uh! My best escape route rumbled!)

2. Or you can go back down, then jump from the lowest branch on the mower handle, and down on the grass again.

WhichĖ since my flying leap upwards had sent the mower spinning Ė turned out to be impossible as well.

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _15.jpg]

4: Stuck up the tree

GIVE HIM HIS due, he tried everything. He cooed. He cajoled. He wheedled. (Thereís not much difference between cajoling and wheedling, except wheedlingís more whiny.)

Then he tried threatening.ĎYouíll miss your supper, Tuffy.í (Scarcely a threat to make me tremble, given what was on offer.)

Then simple nastiness.ĎYou can stay up that tree till you rot, Tuny!í (Charming.)

The fact is, I wasnít faking it. I was dead stuck. Donít think I would havechosen to spend half of my morning on one side of the tree, listening to him getting rattier and rattierÖ

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _16.jpg]

ĎCome down at once, Tuffy! Get down here!í

Ö and the other half on the other side, listening to Melanie on her knees, with her hands together and eyes closed, praying and prayingÖ

ĎOh, please, please send me something soft and furry, just like Tuffy next door, to put in my straw basket and cuddle. Iíll give it my comfiest pillow to sleep on, and feed it fresh tuna and cream.í

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _17.jpg]

Fresh tuna! Cream! Didnít the little lady know I had missed my breakfast?

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _18.jpg]

After a while, I couldnít stand listening any longer. I moved back to the other side of the tree. (Who could blame me?)

The vicar was clearly getting hungry too. After a while, he left off threatening me and went inside to make his breakfast. (No yesterdayís grub for him, I noticed. Through the window came the sweet smell of sausages and bacon.)

They always say that breakfast is good for the brain. It certainly stoked up his little patch of grey matter because, a few minutes later, he came down the garden carrying a stool.

And climbed on it.

And he still couldnít reach me.

I wasnít being difficult. I really wanted to come down. If he had managed to reach up even nearly high enough, I would have been prepared to drop in his arms. (I might have scratched him a little, but hey! Cats are famous for being ungrateful, so why worry?)

In fact, I actually tried to help, creeping towards him along the branch. But then the branch started sinking. (Thatís diets for you. Hard to keep to.) And as the branch got thinner towards the end, I weighed it down more and more, till it practically turned into a dry ski slope.

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _19.jpg]

I didnít dare go further, so I stopped.

But watching the branch sink under my weight did seem to have given the vicar an ideaÖ

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _20.jpg]

5: Genius!

HE WENT IN the garage, fetched out a length of tow rope and came back under my tree. Climbing on the stool, he tossed one end of the rope over my branch.

ĎRight!í he said grimly. ĎSlip knot!í

I yowled. Was he planning tohang me? I donít often wish I could talk, but I admit that at that moment I wished I could rush back to the other side and drop a suggestion to Melanie: ĎHey, Sugar! Give over praying for something soft and cuddly, and phone the cops. This vicar is trying to kill me.í

He muttered his way through the slip knot.ĎRound and through, then round and through again.í

(I kept up the yowling.)

He tugged the knot tight, then pulled on the rope. I dug in with my claws. The branch came down, but not quite far enough for him to reach me.

He tried again. This time, he managed to pull the branch a little further down. (I nearly fell.) But it still wasnít quite far enough.

ĎJump!í he said. ĎJump the last bit, Tuffy!í

I gave him the blink.

ĎJump, Tuffy!í he said again.

I glowered at him. (If you had taken a rolling pin to my eyes, and flattened them, they couldnít have got any slittier. The look I gave him could have crawled through a closed Venetian blind.)

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _21.jpg]

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _22.jpg]

ĎChicken!í he said.

Okay, okay! So I spat at him. What are you going to do? Throw your woolly at me? He called me a chicken! He was practically begging for it. He as good as said,ĎSpit in my eye, Tuff!í

So I did.

He glowered back at me.

And thenĖ oh, creepy, creepy! The glower turned into a little smile.

ĎAh-ha!í he said.

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _23.jpg]

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _24.jpg]

Iíll tell you something. People who donít really like you shouldnít say ĎAh-ha!í It makes those who know they arenít liked very nervous.

Especially if theyíre stuck up trees.

ĎAh-ha!í he said again, and hurried back to the garage.

The next thing I knew, he was backing the car out. For one horrid fur-shivering moment I thought he was planning on knocking my tree down. But then he stopped, put on the brake and got out again.

He stood at the back end of the car and knotted the other end of the rope round the bumper.

ĎRight!í he said, admiring his handiwork. ĎI think thatís so strong itíll pull the branch down low enough.í

I stopped my pitiful yowling. I suddenly had hopes of getting down before I died of old age in that tree.

If I am honest, I thought heíd hit upon a brilliant idea to rescue me.

I thought the man was agenius. I wasimpressed.

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _25.jpg]

6: More fool me

WELL, MORE FOOL me. Donít get me wrong. The plan went well at first. Tickety-boo. He got back in the car, switched on the engine and drove away from the tree at almost no miles a hour Ė

Ė carefully Ė

Ė carefully Ė

until the rope went taut. The branch went down as plannedĖ

Ė lower Ė

Ė lower Ė

until my way back to the ground was practically a gentle downward stroll.

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _26.jpg]

ĎBrilliant!í I told myself. ĎI can manage that. Leftover sausage and bacon rinds, here I come!í

And I picked my way down the branchĖ

Ė tippety Ė

Ė tippety Ė

Ė and thatís when his foot slipped on the pedal.

The car shot forward. The rope snapped under the strain. The forked tree branch became a giant leafy catapultĖ

Ė and I became a flying cat.

Wheeeeeeee! Watch me go! I flew in one beautiful rainbow-shaped arc right over the tree top. (I tell you, I wouldnít want to do it again, but the view from up there was spectacular. Spectacular! You could see as far as the gasworks.)

But, after that, of course, the only way was

d

o

w

n.

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _27.jpg]

7: Splat!!!

SPLAT!!!

Straight into MelanieĎs little straw basket.

Okay, okay! No need to sob in your pillow! I may have splatted some of the not-so-cuddly little creepy-crawly things that were scurrying about on the cushion. I didnít actually end up picking any tiny crushed corpses out of my fur; but still, it would amaze me if all those ants who saw me coming got away in time.

Hearing thethwack! of my landing, Melanie broke off her prayer. She opened her eyes, and, seeing me in her straw basket, looked up to heaven.

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _28.jpg]

ĎOh, thank you! Thank you!í cried Little Miss Stupid and Soppy ĎThank you for sending me exactly what I asked for Ė something all soft and furry to cuddle, just like Tuffy.í

Justlike Tuffy?

Did she think I was sent from heaven? How softis this girl?

But hey! Letís not be nasty about Melanie. I could have fetched up in a lot worse places than a cosy soft cushion in a little straw basket.

She carried me inside and kept her promise. Cream! Tuna! (Were you expecting me to slide off home to nose through some three-day-old pellets of catfood?)

Then she sat down and stroked my fur while she chose a name for me.

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _29.jpg]

ĎPussywussykins?í

Sure, Melanie. If you want me throwing up on your pillow each time you say it.

ĎLittle Baby Munchywunchykins?í

Just try it, and Iíll scratch you. Hard.

ĎI know. Iíll call you Janet!í

Janet? What planet is she from? For one thing, Iím a boy. And, for another, have I Ė have you Ė has anyone, anywhere Ėever heard of a pet cat called Janet?

But the cream was fresh. The tuna was delicious.

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _30.jpg]

So Janet was staying. Oh, yes. Janet was warm, well fed and comfortable.

Janet was staying.

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _31.jpg]

8: Sweet little pussy

GO ON, THEN. Snigger. So I looked a bit of a pussy cat, wearing that lacy bonnet. And the dollís frilly nightie was too big for me. What are you going to do? Ban me from Fashion Week?

I had a good time, being Janet. The meals came three times a day. (Three times a day! That nightie was headed for being a perfect fit, any time next week.) I had steak bits, and haddock, lean chicken, sausage ends. You think of what you really love to eat most, and then imagine soppy little fingers feeding you, mouthful by mouthful, and youíll see why I stayed.

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _32.jpg]

The only problem was the endless yelling from next door.

Tuffee! Tufff-eeee! Where ARE you?í

Melanie settled me back down comfortably in the straw basket, and stood on tiptoe to peep over the hedge.

ĎThe vicarís still looking,í she told me sadly. ĎPoor Tuffy! Heís still missing. I hope, wherever he is, heís warm and dry and comfy and well fed.í

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _33.jpg]

I purred.

She turned back.ĎOh, Janet! Iím so glad to have you.í

She squeezed me so tight, I gave a little warning yowl. Not a smart noise to make, just over the hedge from someone looking for a cat.

His head appeared.ĎYouíve found him!í

I stayed well down in the basket.

Melanieís kind, but sheís not bright. ĎWho?í

ĎTuffy!í

ĎNo. That was my own cat yowling. That was Janet.í

ĎJanet?í

ĎShe was a gift.í

Iím glad that Melanie didnít say ĎA gift from heavení. That would have made him even more suspicious. As it was, he narrowed his eyes at me.

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _34.jpg]

Disguise! I thought, and simpered in my basket.

The bonnet and nightie obviously confused him a little, but he did have a go.ĎHis face looks very like Tuffyís.í

I purred in a friendly fashion.

ĎBut Tuffy never made a noise like that.í

(No. Not inyour presence, Buster!)

The vicarís eyes gleamed. ĎMelanie,í he said. ĎDo you mind if I do one tiny little test to assure myself itís not Tuffy?í

He came through the gate, and picked me up.

Talk about tests! Some have to walk through fire. Others are sent on seven-year-long voyages. Some have to go and make fortunes. Others kill dragons, or set off to find the Holy Grail.

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _35.jpg]

Nobodyísever had a test like this.

He scooped me out of the basket.

He held me up.

He looked me in the eyes. (I didnít blink.)

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _36.jpg]

He said,ĎNice pussy! Pretty, pretty, pussy!í

He said,ĎSweet, sweet pussy!í

He said,ĎWhoís a clever little girl pussy, then?í

And all I did was purr.

He put me back in the basket.

ĎYouíre right,í he said to Melanie. ĎIt isnít Tuffy And I canít think why I ever thought it was in the first place.í

Phew!

More cream. More tuna. Here we come!

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _37.jpg]

9: Rumbled

GO ON. Admit it. You wouldnít have gone home either. You would have stayed the whole week, just like I did, stuffing your face and getting fatter and fatter.

By Saturday night, I was as big as a barrel. There were splits down the sides of my seams. I was bulging out of the nightie.

And thatís when the gang came looking for me.

They peeped in the basket.

ĎTuffy? Tuffy, is that you?í

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _38.jpg]

I was a bit embarrassed. I disguised my voice.

ĎNo,í I explained. Tm Janet. Tuffyís cousin.í

Bella stared at the fur bulges bursting through the nightie.

ĎSo what happened to Tuff? Did youeat him?í

I gave her the blink.ĎNo.í

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _39.jpg]

ĎSo where is he?í

I shrugged. Maybe it was the most energetic thing Iíd done in nearly a week. Anyhow, the seam of the nightie split, and a whole lot more of my bulges fell out at the sides.

ĎDoing a striptease, are you?í Pusskins said, then added rudely, ĎFatso!í

That set them all off.

ĎFurball!í

Tub oí lard!í

I narrowed my eyes. I made the tiniest little noise. Thetiniest.

Everyone said afterwards that I was the one who started it. But I wasnít. It was hardly a hiss at all. It was more like apurr really.

I blame Bella. She should never have put out her paw and patted me.ĎCome on, guys! Until Tuffy turns up, letís have fun with this great furry beachball!í

So I thwacked her.

So she thwacked me back.

And thatís how the fight started. It was quite a big flurry, with flying fur and shreds of nightie floating all over. At one point, the bonnet ribbons nearly strangled me, but I wriggled free, and took all three of them on again.

But suddenly, with my disguise in tatters round the lawn, everyone cottoned on.

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _40.jpg]

ĎHey, guys! Itis Tuffy after all! Itís Tuffy!í

ĎYo, Tuff! At last!í

ĎFound you!í

And thatís the moment Melanie came down the garden, carrying my third meal of the day.

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _41.jpg]

The others stepped back respectfully.

ĎFresh cream!í sighed Bella.

ĎReal tuna!í Tiger whispered.

ĎLots!í said Pusskins.

But Melanie didnít put it down as usual.

ĎTufty,í she said to me sternly.

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _42.jpg]

ĎWhat have you done with Janet?í

I tried to look all Janety. But, without the lace bonnet and nightie, it didnít work.

Melanie looked around. And, I admit, if you were expecting to find your precious new pet, it did look a bit bad. Shreds of fur and nightie and bonnet all over.

ĎOh, Tuffy! Tuffy!í she wailed. ĎYou bad, bad cat! Youíve torn Janet to pieces and eaten her! Youmonstert!í

The others turned and fled and left me to it.

ĎYou monster, Tuffy! Monster!Monster!í

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _43.jpg]

10: How it ended

SO THAT SORT of explains what all the fuss was about when the car drew up at the roadside, and out spilled the family.

ĎTuff-eee!í yelled Ellie, catching sight of me through Melanie Ďs open garden gate. She rushed in to greet me. ĎTuff-eee!í

Then she spotted Melanie, sobbing her eyes out.

ĎWhatís the matter?í

ĎYour cat ought to go to prison!í

Melanie shrieked at her.ĎYour catís not a cat. Your catís apig. And abeast.

And amurderer!

I went back to trying to look all sweet and Janety.

Ellieís eyes had gone huge. She looked at me sternly and her eyes filled with tears. ĎOh, Tuffy!í she whispered, horrified. ĎWhat have youdone?í

I like that. Very nice! Arenít families supposed to stick up for one another? Charming of Ellie to believe the worst, just because her best friend is watering the lawn with her tears, and there are bits of shredded nightie all over.

I was pretty put out, I can tell you. I stuck my tail up in the air and started the huffy strut out of there.

Wrong way! Straight into the vicarís arms.

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _44.jpg]

ĎGotcha!í he said, scooping me up before Iíd even spotted him lurking behind the pear tree. ĎGotcha!í

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _45.jpg]

And thatís how, when Ellieís mother finally strolled through the gate, she found the vicar holding me the way that a cat lover doesnít hold a cat.

And staring at me the way a cat lover doesnít stare.

And saying things I donít believe a vicar ought to say.

Ever.

He wonít be asked to cat-sit in our house again.

Anyone sorry?

No. I didnít think so.

Byeeee!

3. THE KILLER CAT STRIKES BACK

1: Not the best photo

OKAY, OKAY. SO stick my head in a holly bush. I gave Ellieís mother my mean look. It was her own fault. She was hogging my end of the sofa. You know Ė that sunny spot on the soft cushion where I like to sit because I can see out of the window.

Down to where the little birdy-pies keep falling out of their nests, learning to fly.

Yum, yumÖ

So I gave her this look. Well, shedeserved it. All I was trying to do was get her to move along a bit so I could take my nap. We cats need our naps. If I donít have my nap, I get quite ratty.

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _3.jpg]

So I just stood there looking at her. That is ALL I DID.

Oh, all right. I was glowering.

But she didnít even notice. She was busy flicking through the new brochure from the College of Education. ĎWhat class shall I take?í she kept asking Ellie. ĎWhat would suit me best? Art? Music? Great books? Dancing? Yoga?í

ĎDo they have classes in fixing up old cars?í said Ellieís father. ĎIf they do, thatís the one to take.í

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _4.jpg]

Heís right. That car of theirs is an embarrassment. Itís a disgrace. Itís just a heap of bits that rattle along the road sounding like a giant shaking rocks in a tin drum, spewing out smoke. And they will never, ever have the money to buy a new one.

The best class for Ellieís mother would be a ĎBuild A New Car Out Of Airí class. But I doubt if the college offers that.

I upped the glower a littleĖ not out of nastiness, you understand. Simply to let her know I wasnít standing there admiring her beauty. My legs wereaching.

She looked up and saw me.ĎOh, Tuffy! What a precious little crosspatch face!í

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _5.jpg]

Iím like you. I hate being teased. So I just glowered some more.

Oh, allright. If you insist on knowing all of it, I hissed a bit.

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _6.jpg]

And then I spat.

And, guess what? Suddenly she was diving into her bag and had whipped out her camera and taken a photo.

It didnít show me at my best, I must admit. I looked a little grumpy.

And you could see a bit too much of my bared teeth.

And perhaps my claws looked a shade too large and pointy. And a bit stretched out, as if I were about to lean forward and take a chunk out of someoneís leg unless they shifted along the sofa a bit to let someone else on to the sunny patch.

No. Not the best photo of me.

But she seemed to like it. And it gave her an idea.

ĎI know!í she said. ĎIíll take the art class. We do painting and pottery. But the first thing Iím going to do is a portrait of Tuffy just like the one in the photo. Wonít that be lovely?í

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _7.jpg]

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _8.jpg]

Oh, yes. Very lovely indeed. Lovely asmud.

2: Whoops!

SHE DID IT, too. Can you believe this woman? She actually managed to get that heap of scrap metal they park outside our house to burst into life. Then she drove off in it, waving, to her first art class.

And came back with a portrait of me.

I watched from the warm spot on the garden wall where I do a lot of my thinking.

ĎMarvellous!í said the traffic warden as Ellieís mother was pulling the painting out of the back of the car. ĎA most realistic tiger.í

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _9.jpg]

ĎI say,í Mr Harris from next door called over the hedge as it was being carried up the path. ĎI like that. Is it a poster for the new horror film theyíre showing in town?í

ĎLovely!í said Ellieís father. ĎYouíve captured the look perfectly.í

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _10.jpg]

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _11.jpg]

Ellie said nothing. I think, if Iím honest, the painting frightened her a little.

Then Ellieís mother started wondering where to put it. (Pity she didnít ask me. I would have told her, ĎHow about straight in the dustbin?í)

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _12.jpg]

But, no. She looked around.ĎWhat about up on the wall in here?í

I stared.

ĎYes,í she said firmly. ĎIt will look splendid. And everyone who visits the house can admire it.í

(Oh, yes. At theirperil.)

But thatís what she did. She found a hook and nail, and hung her ĎPortrait of Tuffyí just above the back of the sofa where everyone could admire it.

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _13.jpg]

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _14.jpg]

And where I could just reach it.

If I reallystretchedÖ

Whoops!

3: One little biff

OKAY, OKAY. SO clip my claws. I scratched the cat to pieces. For pityís sake! If anyone had the right to scratch that painted catís eyes out, it was me.

And it was an accident. All I did was put out one of my sweet little paws to give the painting one little biff. Just to make myself feel better about it, you could say. How could you argue it was my fault that one of my claws caught in the thread of the canvas?

And gotstuck.

No one could blame me for trying to pull my own paw free.

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _15.jpg]

Over and overÖ

The picture did end up looking a bit of a mess, I have to admit. But I felt a whole lot better.

I sat on the wall outside and waited. The explosion came soon enough.

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _16.jpg]

ĎLook at this mess! My ďPortrait of TuffyĒ has been torn to bits!í

ĎItís in shreds! There are bits of painting all over the carpet!í

ĎNot just on the carpet! Isnít that a painted ear up on the dresser?í

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _17.jpg]

ĎAnd a bit of tail hanging off that lamp?í

ĎIíve found a paw on the window sill!í wailed Ellie.

Oh, I certainly spread thatĎPortrait of Tuffyí about. If anyone was ever going to hang what was left of it on the wall again, theyíd have to give it a new name.

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _18.jpg]

Theyíd have to call it ĎBattleís Endí. And guess who won?

Ellie picked up the frame with all the stringy bits hanging down.ĎTuffy!í she scolded as sternly as she could. ĎLook what youíve done to Mummyís very first painting! Youívedestroyed it.í

What a tragedyĖ Idonít think. And if you want my opinion, they wonít be howling with grief down at the Art Gallery, either, when they hear the news. Ellieís mother might be clever enough to bring a dead car back to life for long enough to drive to her art class and back, but she canít paint for toffee.

I can paint better than she can with mypaws. And next time she leaves one of her nice new expensive blank white canvases about, I might just prove it to her.

Oh, yes. Indeed I might.

4:ĎA riot of beautyí

SO WHITEWASH MY whiskers! I took a short cut over her precious new canvas. I was in ahurry. How was I to know sheíd left it for only a minute while she went back in the house to look for her paintbrush?

There it was, lying on the patio, all nice and flat and neat and white and clean andĖ well, yes Ėblank.

Ready to go, you could say.

I expect I just wasnítthinking when I stepped in the tub of blue paintĖ by mistake Ė before running over the canvas to the gate.

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _19.jpg]

And anyone could have been clumsy enough to knock over that tub of red paint when they ran back to check out that smell of fish round the dustbins.

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _20.jpg]

How could it be my fault that one of my paws slid in the tub of yellow before I took a swipe at that butterfly? How was I to know I was going to get paint droplets all over?

And you certainly canít blame me because my tail just happened to flick in the tub of green before I prowled round the ruined canvas a few times, dragging my tail behind me as I worried about the splatters.

Colourful, though. Cheerful. Rather fresh andĎmoderní.

Mrs Famous-Artist-To-Be wasnít at all pleased. A brand-new canvas! Totally spoiled! Look at this mess! And I was planning to paint a lovely sunset on a lake under a hill of buttercups!í

Ellie stuck up for me.ĎTuffy wasnít beingbad. He just got to the canvas first.í

I took a look at my handiwork. Ellie was right. Fancy a sunset? I had that giant streak of red. You want a lake? I had a splodge of blue. Buttercups? Plenty of droplets of yellow in that painting. On a hill? No worries. Tons of green.

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _21.jpg]

I gave Our Lady of the Paintbrush a lofty stare.ĎThatís not a mess,í the look said. ĎThat is properart.í

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _22.jpg]

And Ellie clearly thought so too. She didnít dare say a word until Mrs Picasso had driven off to her class. (Bang! Rattle! X@%*%$! Phut! Cough!) But then Ellie said to her father, ĎI really like it. Can we hang it on the wall?í

Usually, heíd have more tact. But heís still mad at her ladyship for not taking useful ĎFix Your Rubbish Heap Carí lessons instead of art. And he hates wasting anything, even a hook in a wall. So he picked up the painting and hung it up over the sofa.

Ellie stared at it with her hands clasped in wonder. (You have to hand it to that girl, she may be wet, wet, wetĖ but she is loyal.)

ĎIím going to call it ďA Riot of BeautyĒ,í she said.

I turned a critical eye on my first-ever work of art.

Not sure about theĎBeautyí bit. But liked the ĎRiotí.

Yes. Liked theĎRiotí.

5: A droplet of advice

SO MRS Watch-My-Fingers-Weave-Enchantment comes home that afternoon with three manky lumps of dried mud.

(I kid you not. Dried lumps of mud. If theyíd been green, you would have thought of them as giant bogeys.)

ĎI didnít have a canvas,í she explained. (Frosty look at me Ė I just ignored it.) ĎSo I moved on to pottery.í

Pottery?

Potty, more like, if you want the opinion of that talented pussycat who paintedĎA Riot of Beautyí.

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I put my paw out to stroke one of the lumps.

Accident! It fell to pieces before it even hit the ground.

ĎTuffy!í she said. ĎHow could you! First you tread paint all over my lovely clean canvas, and now youíve broken one of my pretty new pots.í

Pretty new pots?Puh-lease. They are not pretty. The mud comes from a primeval swamp. And if you dropped so much as a pin into something that lumpy, youíd never find it again.

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She put the other two pots safely up on the shelf.ĎThere!í she said. ĎNot even Tuffy can get up here and knock them off.í

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A tiny droplet of advice: donít ever challenge a cat. It may have been a bit of an effort. (I donít keep as trim as I should.) But finally Ė finally Ė I managed to rise to the occasion and get up on that shelf.

Those pots up there were even worse than the one Iíd knocked on to the floor. (Byaccident.) Talk about ugly! They had lumps hanging off here, and extra lumps sagging off there. One of them even had a kind of wart on its bottom, so every time I gave it a tiny little push, it wobbled horribly.

Uh-oh!

Iíd like to tell you that it shattered into a thousand pieces. (That would sound good.) But it was such a lump of old rubbish it only fell into two halves.

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Never mind. Be fair to me. At least the thing wasgone.

Two down.

And one to go.

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6: Little Miss Last Ugly Pot

I WASNíT THE only one in the house to hate those ugly pots enough to want to be rid of all of them. Next morning I strolled into the living room at my usual time to find Ellieís father sitting on the sofa, right next to my sunny spot.

There was a look in his eye Iíd never seen before. For a moment I couldnít work out what it was, and then I realized he was pleased to see me.

Weird, or what?

He put out a welcoming hand.ĎCome on, pussy. Here, pussy.í

Well, stretch my stripes!ĎCome on, pussyí? The manís never pined for my company before. Do I recall many a happy hour spent on his lap being gently stroked and petted?

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No, I do not.

Clearly he wanted something. I took a quick look round the room andĖ

Voila! Heíd moved Little Miss Last Ugly Pot down to the coffee table. Aha! So thatís what he was hoping for! An action replay of yesterdayís excellent result: one little soft paw out prodding, one quick cry of ĎWhoops!í, and a freshly smashed pot in the rubbish bin.

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I wonít say I wasnít tempted. That was one nasty pot. The world would be a prettier place for being rid of it. If I am scrupulously honest, I think that pot would have lookednicer in bits on the floor than it did as one lump on the table.

And Iím an obliging family pet, always keen to help out when I can.

I stuck my paw out, ready.

Then he made his big mistake.

ĎThatís right,í he said. ĎGood boy!í

Good boy? What does he think I am? A stupiddog?

I gave him the cool slow blink. If heíd had anything but cloth for brains, he would have known what it meant. That blink meant: Excuse me. Which of us is the one whoís trained like a dog? Do I do what you want? No, I do not. Do I come when you call? No. I go my own sweet way. I am acat.

You, on the other hand, are perfectly well trained. If I am hungry, all I have to do is walk round your legs a few times, half-tripping you, and you open a tin. If I want to go out, I stand by the door and yowl as if Iím about to throw up, and youíre over in a flash to open it.

Who is the one who should be saying,ĎGood boy!í round here, Buster?

Yes. Not you.Me.

More than one way to make a point, of course. I chose to do it by giving him the runaround. I kept him on tenterhooks, padding up and down the coffee table. (He is such ahypocrite. Usually heíd push me off.) I let my fur graze the pot more closely every time I passed, and every now and again I even stretched out a paw as if to stroke that nasty pottery lump he was so hoping I would break.

I even gave it a little push so it toppled a little.

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Almost fell off the side.

Almost.

Not quite.

ĎComeon,í he urged me.ĎYou can do it. Youíre a clumsy enough cat.í

Clumsy, eh? So things were getting nasty. I could have told him: not a thing gets smashed by me in this house unless I choose to smash it. Call us cats clever. Call us cunning. Call us caterwauling.

Butnever call us clumsy.

And then he really blew it. He changed tack.

ĎCome on,í he wheedled. ĎSmash it for me.Please. Sweet pussy. Sweet, sweet pussy.í

Howdare he! What a nerve! Can youbelieve this man? Five years weíve lived together, and he calls me Ďsweetí.

It is aninsult.

I felt like scratching him, I really did. Instead, I took revenge. I made my eyes go huge, and sent my fur up on end. I did my Just-Seen-a-Ghost-in-the-Doorwayí act. (Itísvery good.) And then, to put the icing on the cake, I shot backwards along the coffee table at about a hundred miles an hour until Iíd knocked the pretty china dish he loves so much off at the other end, shattering it to pieces and spilling all the coins he keeps in there on to the floor.

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He was still chasing money round the room when the doorbell rang.

Mr Harris from next door. And, as usual, he was selling raffle tickets.

ĎSorry,í said Ellieís father as he always did. ĎUnfortunately, just at this moment I happen to be out of spare change.í

Mr Harris looked at the money spilling out of Ellieís fatherís cupped hands.

ĎAll that will do,í he said. ĎAll that will buy at least one ticket. And itís a really good prize Ė especially for your family. Itís a brand-new car.í

(Clearly we cats are not the only ones round here who are fed up with coughing for an hour or two each time anyone in my family sets off on a car trip.)

So what could Ellieís father do? He had to buy a ticket or look the cheapskate he is. By the time he came back, he was in a real temper.

I find unpleasantness in others a terrible trial. We cats do have our dignity. All that I chose to do was push the last ugly pot well away from the table edge. I shifted it this way a bit. Then I shifted it that. And then I left it sitting very safely indeed, right in the middle, where no one could ever knock it over and break it by mistake.

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Then I stuck my tail up, proudly high, and I stalked out.

7: Cat and mouse

SO THEN WE ended up playing a sort of Cat and Mouse game. (Guess who played Mouse!) He put the ugly pot back on the shelf in case The Budding Artist got suspicious. But he still wanted it gone, and to be able to spread his handsĖ Mr All Innocence Ė and swear to Ellieís mother that it was I who broke it.

Over the next few weeks, he must have tried everything. And I meaneverything.

First, he tried wheedling and begging. You know the sort of stuff.

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ĎDear pussy. Kind pussy. Wonít you do one tiny eensy-weensy thing for me?í

(Well, as my old granny used to say,ĎPlease pass the sick bag, Alice!í)

Then he tried picking me up and putting me on the shelf and pushing me along it.

Thatís right. Actually putting his hand on my bottom and trying topush me. (Heís still nursing the scratches from that one.)

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After that, he smeared whipping cream on the pot, hoping that Iíd be greedy enough to jump up and lick the pot so hard it would move along the shelf and fall off the end.

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How stupid is that? Cream? On a shelf? I had a really good time skating up and down, kicking drips over the edge. It took himdays to get the sour smell out of the rugs.

I spent a lot of time that week out in the fresh air, amusing myself by chasing next doorís Gregory out of our garden. Each time the poor boy came through the gate, clutching a note from his mother, Iíd leap out from behind the holly bush and stick all four paws in the air as if Iíd flattened myself against an invisible wall right next to his face.

Gregory would scream, drop the note he was holding and rush off home.

Iíd kick the note out of the way under the holly bush (hiding the evidence) and go back to sleep on the wall.

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A stupid game, maybe. But I enjoyed it and it passed the time until Ellieís father had spent enough time scrubbing the rugs to make the living room smell pleasant again. Then I came back inside, to find my adversary in the War of the Last Ugly Pot getting even more cunning.

Heíd dropped a fine fresh prawn inside the thing.

ĎThere!í he crowed. ĎTry to resist that, Tuffy! Try to get that out without knocking the pot over the edge!í

Well, I was tempted. If thereís one thing that I love, itís a fresh prawn. But then I thought, nobody, not even a mothwallet like Ellieís father, has the nerve to buy only one. There must be others!

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I went off to the toolshed and found the rest of them still in the bag, hidden from Ellieís mother, waiting for the secret little luxury snack he was planning for himself later.

Things worked out nicely. I ate those instead.

8: Before six oíclock tonight

ON MY WAY back through the garden, Bella and Tiger and Pusskins yowled at me from the wall where they were sitting watching Ellieís mother trying to park.

ĎThat car of your familyís!í said Bella. ĎItís a realdisgrace.í

ĎPouring out smoke,í agreed Pusskins.

Tiger was even more grumpy.ĎWe could all choke todeath.íHe was still moaning as Ellieís mother came up the path with her most recent triumph. ĎAnd what isthat? A heap of knitted twigs?í

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ĎThatís her new work of art,í I had to admit. ĎSheís given up on pottery and moved on to ďgarden sculpturesĒ.í

ĎThose manky old bits of trailing raffia are going to geteverywhere,í grumbled Bella.ĎAnd is that a flag on the top? Or did some lavatory paper get stuck to whatever it is on the way home?í

Ellieís mother staggered through the gate and dumped her new great work of art on to the lawn. Smoke was still pouring out of the car, but she didnít notice. She was waving at Ellie.

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ĎCome and see my new piece. Iím calling it ďWigwam in SummerĒ!í

Ellie came rushing over, clasping her hands.ĎOooh!í she cried. ĎItís lovely. Itís beautiful! Can I have it as my own little house? Then I can sit inside it and play Letís Pretend!í

Tiger just rolled his eyes and Bella pretended kindly that she hadnít heard. I mean, everyoneís embarrassed by their family. That is the Way of the World. But Ellie is more than a few steps beyond soft. She has become Essence of Mush.

But all thatĎsitting inside ití talk had given Bella an idea.

ĎExcellent loo for cats, that wigwam,í she couldnít help observing. Just the right size. Very private. And you could fly that loo paper flag on top to let people know whenever itís in use.í

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ĎAndhow itís in use,í added Tiger. He turned to me. ĎThatís Symbolism, that is,í he explained. ĎI know because someone in my family took the Great Books course at that very same college.í

ĎLetís hope she moves the wigwam on to a flowerbed,í said Pusskins. ĎThatíll make for easier scratching in after.í

I do live in a family.ĎHey, fellas!í I rebuked them. ĎWhat about poor Ellie? She wonít want to sit and play Letís Pretend in a public lavatory.í

We were still arguing when the car that had been sitting there busily puffing out smoke suddenly burst into flames. It was a good show, what with the fire engines.(Nee-naw! Nee-naw!íWeíll all bepractising that noise on the prowl tonight.) And at the end, Bella said, ĎA pity Ellieís father canít find that winning raffle ticket of his, and get his new car.í

ĎSorry?í I said.

She turned my way.ĎDidnít you know? The raffle draw was a whole week ago. According to the book of ticket stubs, Ellieís dad has the winning number. But Mr Harris says that, according to the rules, the winner has to show up with the ticket to claim the prize.í

ĎBefore six oíclock,í added Pusskins. ĎThis evening. On the dot. Otherwise the new car goes to the runner-up.í

ĎAll this is news to me,í I said, a shade uneasily.

ĎI canít think why,í said Tiger. ĎEveryone else knows. And Ellieís mother and father must know as well because Mr Harris has sent Gregory round at least a dozen times with notes to tell them.í

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I felt even more uneasy. Glancing guiltily towards the litter gathered under the holly bush, I couldnít help muttering, ĎDear me. Oh, dear me. Oh, dear.í

ĎI expect the raffle ticketís been lost,í said Pusskins. ĎThose things are very light and small. It must be terribly easy for everyone in the household to forget where they put it.í

I found myself staring at a cloud sailing over my head, and saying nothing.

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Everyone round me sighed.

ĎWeíd all have a better life if your family had a new car,í said Bella. ĎThey would go off on more day trips. Leave us to ourselves a bit.í

We all fell silent, thinking of the good times we used to have racing around the living room, ripping up the cushions and scaring the goldfish silly.

ĎOh, allright !íI said.

Take it from me, it isno joke, sticking your head in a holly bush. I had to stretch really far to find a note that wasnít badly ripped. Bellaís a tubby tabby, so she helped me roll it flat. (We quite enjoyed that idle hour on the warm flagstones.)

And then I slid it under the back door.

It was Ellieís mother who picked it up, of course. ĎGeorge! George! Weíve won a car! In a raffle! All that we have to do is find the ticket you bought from Gregoryís dad, and the car will be ours!í She rushed towards him. ĎSo where did you put it to keep it safe?í

She skidded to a halt.ĎGeorge?í she said. ĎGeorge? You do remember where you put it, donít you?í

Ellie and I turned round to look at him.

He had gone green.

9:ĎRun, Daddy! Run!í

OF COURSE, THE POOR sap hadnít got a clue. I watched them turn the house upside down, up-ending sofas, peering under rugs, sticking their noses into old envelopes.

By the time the clock ticked round to a quarter to six, they were quite desperate.

ĎIt must besomewhere !í

ĎWhere did you put it? Try to remember!í

He clutched his hair and wailed,ĎI donít know! All I can recall is coming back into this room with the raffle ticket in my hand.í

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I tried to give them a hint. I kept on strolling up and down along the shelf, and giving little purrs. But they had no time to pay attention to me.

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So, in the end, with only five minutes to go before the deadline, I had to do what heíd been trying to get me to do for several weeks.

I didnítchoose to do it, you understand. It was an Unselfish Act, purely for the Good of the Community. Left to myself, I would have happily broken my own front left leg rather than please him by damaging that last ugly pot.

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But needs must when the devil drives. I stuck out my paw and pushed the thing firmly off the end of the shelf.

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I wonít say it smashed. Fat chance. This pot was such an ill-made lump, it simply fell apart in mid-air.

Out tumbled, first, one fresh prawn, then one small raffle ticket.

The bits of pot hit the carpet. Blop! Blop! Blop!

ĎWhat onearth is that prawn doing there?í said Ellieís mother.

He didnít take the time to blush. He simply snatched up the raffle ticket and made for the door.

ĎRun, Daddy! Run!í cried Ellie.

10: A moral victory and a good result

THE GANG TOLD me all about it afterwards.

ĎDidnít go round by the pavement. Simply jumped over the fence.í

ĎAmazing! No doubt about it, it was an Olympic-standard leap.í

ĎHe practically bust his truss doing it.í

I was sorry to have missed the show. But I was too busy being cuddled and praised by sweet little Ellie.ĎOh, Tuffy! Youíre the cleverest, most wonderful cat in the whole wide world. You found the ticket! Just in time. And now weíre going to have a brand-new car. I love you, Tuffy. I love you. Youíre a sweetie, peetie, weetie Ėí

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Okay, okay! Enough! I canít take too much of the soppy stuff. I shook her off and I went out. I wanted to be alone. I had a thing or two to think about up on my wall. After all, Iíd had to make a giant sacrifice. Iíd had to do what Ellieís father wanted all along, and break the pot.

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I hate doing things for that man. Normally Iíd rather tear off my own left ear than try to please him. But it was for the best. Bella was right. Now they had a better car, theyíd go out a whole lot more. I might have lost the battle, but at least, in doing so, I had won the battleground.

It was an honourable defeat.

A moral victory and a good result.

4. THE KILLER CAT’S BIRTHDAY BASH

1: Not my fault

OKAY, OKAY. SO spank my furry little bum. I held a party.

And, go ahead. Stuff me with sorry pills. It all ended up a bit of a mess.

Well, more than a mess. A disaster.

Well, more than a disaster. A real riot.

But it wasnot my fault. If Ellie hadnít got so bored she rooted through the cupboard and found that old photograph album, I would never have known the date of my birthday. None of it would have happened.

So you blame Ellie. Donít blame me.

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2:ĎYou talkiní íbout me?í

IT WAS A horrible day. Horrible. The rain was splattering against the window panes. The wind was howling. So Ellie lay face down on the rug and flicked over the pages of the album.

ĎOooh, Dad! Hereís one of you the day you tumbled in that muddy ditch.í

(Best place for the man, if you want my opinion.)

ĎOooh, Mum! Come and look at this photo. Your hair lookslovely.í

(On Planet No-Style, maybe. But not here.)

On and on Ellie went, squealing away like that baby mouse Tiger and I gave such a good fright behind the wheelie bin. In the end I decided I couldnít stand it any more, and made for the door.

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Just then she squealed again.ĎOh, hereís one of Tuffy! Doesnít he looksweeeeeeeet?í

I turned to give her one of myĎyou talkiní íbout me?í looks. She didnít even notice. She was too busy oohing and aahing and fussing and cooing. ĎOh,

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _5.jpg]

come and look at this, Mum. Tuffy looks socute!í

Iím not going to hang my head in shame and make excuses for myself. Back then I was a ball of fluff. I was akitten. Baby kittensare sweet.

Ellie picked out another photo.ĎOh, look! Tuffy isgorgeous!í

I couldnít help it; I was curious. So I strolled back to take a look. And sure enough, there was this photo of me, all huge and trusting eyes, and fur around me like a fluffy cloud. I looked like something off one of those soppy birthday cards your great-aunt sends to your mother.

I nearly threw up. But Ellie was pointing to the writing underneath the photo as she read it aloud.

ĎOur enchanting new kitten. Born on 31st October.í

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She looked at her mother.ĎItís October now,í she said. ĎThat means itís nearly Tuffyís birthday.í

ĎThatís nice,í said Ellieís mother.

I thought so too. But Ellieís father had to introduce a sour note into this warm family moment.

Ď31st October?í he said. ĎIsnít that Halloween? The time when everything evil and ugly and dangerous crawls out to stalk the land.í He snorted. ĎA very suitable day indeed for Tuffyís birthday!í

Rude man. But did I bother to give him the blink? No. I was too busy thinking.

31st October. My birthday, eh?

Then why not hold a party?

Well, why not?

3: No dogs

ĎRIGHT,í BELLA SAID. ĎFirst we must decide on where weíre holding this birthday bash of yours.í

ĎMy house, of course,í I told them.

ĎItís my birthday and my party, so weíll have it at my house.í

Bella sighed.ĎHave you forgotten what day itís going to be?í

ĎNo,í I said, and couldnít help turning sarcastic. ĎUnless I just happened to step out tonight without mybrain, itís on 31st October.í

ĎThatís right,í said Bella. ĎAnd thatís the night your family plans to hold a big Halloween party for everyone on the street.í

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ĎReally?í I was astonished. ĎNews to me.í I turned to Tiger. ĎDid you know that?í

ĎSure I knew,í Tiger told me. ĎThis morning I was just sitting minding my own business on the front door mat when the invitation came through the letter box and fell on my head.í He ran a paw over his fur. ĎI can still feel the lump.í

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ĎI knew too,í Snowball told me. ĎMy family have already fetched their dressing-up box down from the attic.í She scowled. ĎAnd Tanya thought it would be amusing to put a bonnet on me.í

ĎWhat did you do?í asked Tiger.

ĎScratched her, of course,í said Snowball. ĎReally hard. She wonít try that again.í

Everyone chuckled, except for me. I wasnít in the mood.

ĎI donít believe it!í I grumbled. ĎYou live in a house for years. They feed you, try to cuddle you and make you think that youíre a member of the family. And then they send party invitations all round the town without even mentioning it in front of you!í

Bella could tell my feelings had been hurt.ĎPerhaps you simply werenít around to hear them talking about it,í she suggested soothingly.

I thought back over the week. Itís true I had spent most of every day out scaring squirrels. And every evening out with the gang. In fact, when I thought about it, Iíd only stepped inside to see what sort of grub theyíd put in my dish before deciding whether Iíd rather stroll down to the fish shop and knock the lid off their waste bin.

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But still, I felt a bit sore. If my own family had decided to hold a party, you would have thought they might choose to celebrate my birthday, not stupid Halloween.

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No. I was miffed enough to take a stand.

ĎRight, then,í I said. ĎWeíll have my party somewhere else. How about round the recycling bins?í

ĎBit dangerous,í warned Bella. ĎAll those cars backing up in the dark to dump their papers and bottles.í

ĎUnder the scout hut?í

ĎYouíre joking,í Tiger said. ĎItís really hard to squeeze in through that hole, and then itís freezing.í

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So that settled it.

ĎAll right,í I told them. ĎWeíll hold my birthday bash in the Fletchersí barn.í

ĎThat means weíll have to invite the horses too.í

Everyone groaned. Horses. Just think about them. Cloppy great feet. Giant black nostrils you could climb up inside and then get lost. Legs as knobbly as Grannyís furniture. Basically, a horse is just a huge pudgy barrel on great long matchstick legs, with feet like upturned teacups.

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Party animals? I donít think so! But you canít hold a party in someone elseís home, and not invite them.

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ĎOkay, then. Horses it is.í

ĎWhat about dogs?í asked Bella.

We all turned to stare.

ĎDogs?í Tiger said, and shuddered. (Heíd only just got down from the last tree young Buster had chased him up.) ĎNo. Absolutely not.í

Snowball is more of a softie.ĎNot even that harmless little thing from Laurel Way that looks like a tiny toilet brush on legs, and is so soppy it canít even jump off a bed?í

ĎNo,í Tiger said. ĎNot even that one. If any dogs are invited, Iím not coming.í

So that was settled, then. No dogs.

4: Ghosts in the closet

ON THE WAY home, I hatched a little plan to pay my family back.

More fond of ghoulies and ghosties than of their own pussy cat, were they?

Well, Iíd show them.

I sidled through the back door, then up the stairs and into Ellieís bedroom. Little Miss Goody-Two-Shoes was sitting up in bed, reading a book.

I jumped up beside her and snuggled.

ĎOooh, Tuffy!í she said. ĎYou are so nice and sweet and cuddly.í

I kept my temper. It nearly choked me but I even managed to cough out a purr.

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ĎOh, Tuffy,í she said again. ĎI love it when youíre all contented and cosy, and fall asleep in my arms.í

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I kept my eyes closed and I counted to ten. Then, just as she lifted her arm to turn her page, I sprang to my feet and stared at the closet.

Ellie raised her eyes from the book.ĎWhat is it, Tuffy?í

I arched my back, and kept up the mad stare.

ĎCome on, Tuffy,í Ellie soothed. ĎItís just the closet. The only things inside it are clothes and shoes.í

I gave her a quickĎdonít you believe ití blink, and made my hair shoot up on end.

Now she was getting nervous.ĎTuffy?í

She slid out of bed and went towards the closet.

ĎYoooooowwwwwwwwllllll!í

It was the clearest message not to go a single step closer. You didnít have to be a cat to understand:Whatever you do, donít open that closet door!

Terrified, Ellie fled downstairs.

I took a break. Then, when she came up again a few minutes later, holding her parentsí hands, I sprang back into ĎTerrified Cat Staring At Ghosts In The Closetí mode.

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You could tell from the look on Ellieís fatherís face that she had dragged the two of them away from something rather good on telly. He gave the most perfunctory glance around the room, then glowered at me.

I kept up the arched back and the stiffened fur, and stared at the closet.

Ellieís mother slid the closet door open. She pushed the clothes hanging from the rail to one side and peered in. ĎNothing strange in here.í

ĎCheck the other side,í begged Ellie. (She was really scared.)

Ellieís mother checked the other side. ĎNothing.í

ĎCheck both sides at once,í insisted Ellie. So under her orders Mr Grumpy-Wumpy poked his head in on one side and Mrs A-Whole-Lot-Nicer poked her head in on the other, and they flapped all the clothes about.

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ĎEllie, thereís nothing unusual in here.í

I gathered myself up, did a frantic littleĎI amterrifiedí dance and spat at the closet.

Ellie burst into tears and shouted angrily,ĎWell,Tuffy doesnít seem to think thereís nothing in there! And animals arefamous for seeing ghosts.í

ĎBecause theyíre stupid,í Ellieís father said, still glaring at me.

Oh, very friendly. So I spat again, taking good care to make it land on his trousers.

Ellieís mother could see that, at this rate, we would be up all night. ĎYouíd better come and sleep with me,í she said to Ellie. ĎAnd Dad can go in the spare bed.í

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Ha, ha. I spend a lot of time on that spare bed. But I can curl up. I wouldnít care to sleep in it if I was long and thin like him. Itís just Lump City, that old bed.

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He knew it too. On his way out, he gave me a pretty mean look. I put on a snooty air and tried to show him by the way I stalked past that that is what you get for choosing not to hold a party for your own precious pussy.

Ghosts in the closet and lumps in the bed. Thatís what you get. And serves you right.

5: When poodles fly

THE COUNTDOWN BEGAN. If youíre a friend of mine, it was a countdown to my birthday. If you are not, it was a countdown to Halloween.

I did a good bit of sulking.

Okay, okay! So I did more than sulk.

I brought in dead things while they were eating lunch, and shed hairs over their pillow cases, and scratched great holes in all their precious carpets.

All in all, I had an excellent week.

Finally the big day came. Early that afternoon, the family drove off to get the stuff for their party. Iíd seen the list.Food. Scary decorations. Halloween masksÖ Iíd scoured it from top to bottom several times but hadnít seen the very important words ĎA present for Tuffyí. And that could not have been because they didnít have the money, because when they came back with armfuls of expensive shopping I saw theyíd splashed out on something that wasnít even on the list.

A floodlight for the front of the house.

Heís not the worldís best handyman. So when I saw him going to the tool cupboard to find the things he needed to wire it up, I thought it wiser to leave.

It was a bad time to be out and about. Just before dark. Dogs everywhere, all being taken out for the last proper walk before their families sit down to supper. Thatís the worst thing about dogs. Everything they do makes trouble for others. Think about it. When they get bored with staying home and doing all the stupid things they do ó ĎCome!í ĎBeg!í Fetch!í ĎDown!í óthey have to make a nuisance of themselves fussing and whimpering to get their owners to take them out. Me? I just stroll out of the door.

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Dog owners have to find the lead, and then untangle it. They have to find a couple of plastic bags in case the dog leaves a mess. (Ugh! Ugh! Ugh! Ugh!) Half of the owners even have to stuff their pockets with treats just to get the dog to the park and back.

Dogs hate it when we laugh at them. But, really! Itís a bit pathetic to be that size and not be trusted even to cross a road all by yourself. Or find your own way home.

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Still, it was daft of me to get in that argument when I saw Mrs Pinkney dragging Buster away from the nastiest lamppost in town.

ĎDiddums still wearing his baby rein?í I couldnít help jeering.

Whoops! I hadnít noticed Busterís great-aunt Tilly coming the other way.

ĎJust watch it, Fatso,í she growled.

ĎDonít pick on Buster or Iíll pick on you.í

I looked down my right side. Then I looked down my left.ĎNo,í I said. ĎI canít see myself trembling with fright. But that may be because I think I have the edge on anyone being tugged around on a long piece of string.í

ĎYou think youíre so clever?í she snarled. ĎIf cats are so wonderful, where are the guide cats for the blind? Why donít the police have sniffer cats?í

ĎYeah!í Buster jeered. ĎAll you lot do is go around stalking songbirds.í

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ĎBetter than barking at them all day like a squirty little lame-brain.í

He lunged and, startled, Mrs Pinkney dropped the lead.

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I took off like a rocket.

ĎYou wait,í threatened Busterís great-aunt Tilly as I shot past her. ĎOur gate isnít always properly shut. Iíll get you one day.í

ĎWhen poodles fly!í I yowled back from the safe side of the wall. But I was glad that Tiger had put his paw down about having no dogs at the party.

6: Not long now

I DIDNíT FORGET to invite Misty.

ĎYo, dude!í she yowled. ĎA party! Excellent! That rocks.í

Then I remembered Muff and Puff.ĎWhy bother to call it a party?í they asked me when I told them. ĎIsnít that what we do all the time? Stay out all night and make a noise?í

ĎYouíre not invited,í I reminded Pudge the terrier. ĎNo dogs at this party.í

ĎOh, boo woofing hoo,í he jeered.

ĎWill there be games?í asked Fluffball.

ĎOnly the usual,í I said. ĎHide in the Hay Bale. Shred the Straw. Cry Mouse! Oh, and weíll probably have races round the rafters.í

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Together we strolled along to the barn. Up in the hay loft, Georgie was ignoring the spidersí grumbling as he scooped up their cobwebs and draped them around the rafters in attractive festoons. ĎIím going for a natural, no-frills look,í he explained to us. ĎFolksy. Naive. And I am tending to stick with the earth tones.í

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _31.jpg]

ĎDo you mean brown?í asked Fluffball.

Georgie gave her a stern look.ĎCome on!í he scolded. ĎLook around. Weíve a style rainbow here. Khaki and chestnut; oatmeal; toast, mushroom and rust; biscuit; bran and tobacco leaf; coffee and fawnĖí

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We left him reeling off his precious shades of muddy brown and went to look at the food.

Snowball was standing proudly in front of a hay bale spread with delicious goodies.ĎMost of it comes from KeenKost,í he explained. ĎToday is their clear-out day. And I have laid my paws on some excellent p?t? only a day past its date stamp.í

I peered into one of the tubs.ĎWell, whisk my whiskers! Is this double cream?í

ĎNothingís too good for the birthday boy!í

I peered over the edge. Below, the horses were shifting from hoof to hoof.

ĎGetting excited, guys and gals?í I asked them. ĎWell, itís not long now!í

7: Spooking the horses

IT WAS A brilliant party. It absolutelyrocked.

First we played Boomerangs.

Then we did races round the rafters. I chose Tigerís cousin Marmalade as my partner for the doubles because she looked as if sheíd corner well. And I was right. We won our heat by a mile, and then we waltzed away with the main race.

We ate all the grub. Boy, was that tasty! Better than anything they were eating back at the Halloween party. And when we were all feeling totally stuffed out and bloated, we played Spook the Horses. That was a little mean, considering that it was past their bedtime. But itís a good laugh. All you have to do is wait till the poor old dears are nodding off in their stalls, and then you drop on their big fat bottoms from a great height.

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[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _34.jpg]

No claws. That would be cheating.

They wake up, startled, and they neigh.

Neeeeigh! Neeeeeeeigh!

Five points for a single neigh. Ten for a double. Two extra points for any hoof clattering. And thereís a bonus of ten if all the horseís hooves lift off the ground at the same time.

Great game!

The problem is we played it for much too long, and woke the farmer. She wasnít in the worldís best mood when she came stomping into the barn in her boots and pyjamas.

We all laid low while she went down the line of horses in their stalls, patting and soothing.ĎHey, fellas? Whatís the problem? Are you all right, Dolly? Whatís all the fretting about?í

She glanced up at the loft. I thought she might climb the ladder and see the mess weíd left on our makeshift hay-bale table. But we were lucky. She just stood listening.

Not hard enough, if you want my opinion. If sheíd been doing a proper job, she would have heard those tiny footfalls across the straw.

She would have turned, to see what we saw.

Buster and two of his rough little terrier mates creeping in through the stable door that sheíd left open.

And by the time the farmer turned to leave the barn, they were as safely hidden behind the wheelbarrow as we were up there in the loft.

8: Here comes Ugly Club

HATE ME FOREVER if you like, but Iím still going to say it.

I hope your mum and dad keep you inside on Halloween!

Andif you manage to nag them long enough to let you go out to show your brand-new monster mask to all the neighbours, I hope theyíve taught you how to shut a gate. The kids in our town must have let out every dog for miles around while they were Trick or Treating. By the time we cats sneaked out of the barn to get away from Buster and the terriers, the place was swarming with dogs of every shape and size and description, all running up to join the fray and all barking their heads off.

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ĎHey, pussies! Donít even bother trying to escape! Weíre going to eat you up and spit you out as fur balls!í

ĎQuick, Rusty! Head them off!í

ĎGrrrrr!í

ĎMax! Wolfie! Donít let the wee sleekit beasties get away over that wall!í

I tell you, if I had known that I was going to have to leg it all the way back into town at that speed, I would never have finished up that tub of p?t?.

Or the last three fish heads.

Or that cream puff.

We took the shortcuts, over the walls those four-footed slugs canít jump. Most of my party guests peeled off as we shot past their homes.

ĎNight, Tuff! Thanks for an ace bash!í

ĎVolcanic night, Tuff! See you around!í

ĎRoll on same time next year!í

By the time we turned the corner into our street, there were only me, Bella and Tiger left.

Bella glanced back over her shoulder to check for dogs.ĎI think we lost the dandruffy little creeps.í

ĎWay, way behind,í agreed Tiger. We skidded to a halt in front of my house and stared. The place was humming Ė bursting with party people. We could see them all through the windows, holding their glasses high, and talking and laughing.

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _36.jpg]

We watched for a moment, and then I asked the other two,ĎWhat do you reckon? Thereís bound to besomeone in there whoís allergic to cats. We could have a good laugh. Shall we creep in?í

But they were no longer looking at the people inside the house. Tiger and Bella were staring at the big bright circle thrown on the house wall by our brand-new floodlight.

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ĎGroovy!í said Bella.

ĎSeriously cool,í Tiger agreed.

I looked at the gleaming ring of light.

ĎIt is good, isnít it?í I found myself admitting.

ĎHey!í Tiger said. ĎWe mustnít waste it. Letís play Guess the Shadow.í

ĎMe first!í insisted Bella.

Standing beside the little floodlight set in the grass, she stuck out her tail and curled it round, till just the tip was sticking up at the top.

Sure enough, inside the circle of light on the wall of our house fell an enormous shadow.

ĎA Mister Softee ice cream?í guessed Tiger.

ĎDog doodoo!í I suggested.

I won that round. Then it was Tigerís turn. He stepped in front of the floodlight and curled himself into a perfect oval. When he was steady, he stuck the very tips of his paws out at the top.

Bella and I stared at the silhouette heíd made on the wall.

ĎA sack of coal?í suggested Bella.

ĎTwo slugs having a race down a rubbish bagí was my guess.

I think we might have stood there guessing all night. (It was an owl.) But just at that moment the hysterical barking and baying noise that had been getting closer and closer finally came round the corner.

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ĎOh, oh!í said Tiger, hastily unravelling himself. ĎGame over. Here comes Ugly Club.í

ĎNo, no,í I reassured him. ĎNone of that pack of ratbags is fit enough to jump over our fence. Weíre perfectly safe.í

Forget playing Guess the Shadow. Letís play Guess Who WasSuperwrong.

Yes. Thatís right. Me.

Because that rattlesnake-eyed Alsatian who thinks sheís such a star for winning gold cups at the Dog Agility Class swept over the fence, screeched to a halt, then, getting up on her hind legs, jammed her paw down on the gate latch.

And suddenly every dog in town was in our garden.

Ugly Club had arrived.

9: Terrifying Beast

OKAY, OKAY. so feed me worms all week. The dogs got into the house.

How is thatmy fault? How wasI supposed to know that when I sprang back like that, with my claws sticking out and my hair up on end, this giant shadow of me would appear on the wall.

I didnít realize I would end up looking quite so fierce.

Andhuge.

And scary.

I didnít know my shadow was going to frighten all those wussie dogsthat much.

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[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _41.jpg]

Nor was it my fault that they all ended up running around in circles, yelping and whining. Bella and Tiger only leaned against the gate byaccident. They didnít know it was going to swing shut, and trap the whole pack. (All except Miss Dog Agility, of course, who made it back over the fence and home to her stupid collection of fancy gold cups.) As soon as the rest of them saw that they were trapped, they slunk on their bellies round and round our garden Ė a pack of wimperoonies, all desperate for any way to escape from that Terrifying Beast that was so Fierce and Huge and obviously coming out of somewhere to get them.

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _42.jpg]

Okay, so spank me. How wasI supposed to know that one of those great lard-butted Labradors was going to back up so hard against our front door that it flew open.

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _43.jpg]

In they all rushed, to get away from the monster.

The whole pack.

Straight into the party.

There was some angry shouting, a good few screams and the ugly thump of overturned furniture. We heard a lot of breaking glass, and then the party guests began to tumble out of the house into the garden, to get away from the demented dogs.

I looked at Tiger and Bella. Tiger and Bella looked at me.

I glanced up at the silhouette. I had become a giant pussy cat.

Now that was simplyboring.

ĎWhat do you reckon?í I asked the others. ĎParty on, dudes?í

ĎWhy not?í said Tiger. ĎOnce youíre on a roll Öí

ĎAbsolutely,í agreed Bella. ĎGo for it, Tuff. Command Performance!í

So I went for it.

10: The very best of shows

I DONíT THINK any group of people, ever, in the whole history of the world, can have been frightened so easily.

Of course, it helped that it was Halloween. What had Ellieís father called it? ĎThe time when everything evil and ugly and dangerous crawls out to stalk the land. A very suitable day indeed for Tuffyís birthday.í

Well, it was a very suitable day indeed for Tuffyís greatest performance.

Except, of course, that it was not day. It was night. Dark, with almost no moon. The trees were bending in the wind, and all those dogs howling and whining and whimpering made an excellent soundtrack.

So I stood in front of the little floodlight set in the lawn and I went for it. I clawed the air. I arched. I spat. I writhed. I bent my head sideways and gave a host of evil leers. I stood up on my back legs and scratched the air. I spun round. I bared my teeth.

My word, it was the very best of shows. Tiger and Bella kept up a soft, ethereal, other-worldly yowling that would have made my fur stand up on end if it had not been up on end already.

People and dogs spilled out of the door. They were all fighting one another like starved rats in a bag. It was theperfect moment, and down came the claws in my shadow like a velociraptor snatching at prey.

Snatch!

Snatch!

Snatch!

Snatch!

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The party guests screamed. EveryoneĖ people and dogs Ė took off in a shower of sparks, shrieking hysterically. There was much wailing and rolling of eyes. There was a lot of banging of the gate. There were a lot of terrified cries. We heard them growing fainter down the street.

Fainter and fainter.

Fainter.

FAINTER, STILL.

In the end, there was silence.

Out over the heaps of flattened sausages on sticks stepped Ellie and her father. I leaped aside, but it was just a shade too late. Theyíd spotted what I was doing Ė turning my last ferocious velociraptor pounce into a final bow.

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _45.jpg]

Mr No-Sense-Of-Humour didnít take it very well.

ĎYou!í

Tiger and Bella donít much care for the man when heís in one of his tempers. They scuttled off home, fast.

I was left eyeing The Master.

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _46.jpg]

Heíd worked himself into a frightful froth. He looked as if heíd like to take a cattle prod to me. He looked as if heíd rather like to tie me into a reef knot, and whirl me round and round his head.

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _47.jpg]

ĎYou vile, destructive little beast! Youíveruined our party! Absolutelyruined it!í

I was about to give him the blink, turn on my paws and stroll offĖ after all, Iíd had my supper Ė when Ellie turned on him.

ĎDonít you blame Tuffy! Donít you see? All he was trying to do was scare off those nasty dogs who burst in after the food!í

She scooped me up and buried her face in my fur.ĎDear, kind, sweet, clever Tuffy. He saw the mess the dogs were making of our house, and then remembered all about the ghosts in my closet.í

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _48.jpg]

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _49.jpg]

ĎThereare no ghosts in your closet!í Ellieís father roared. ĎThere are no ghosts at all! And there are definitely none in your closet!í

ĎIfTuffy thinks there are, there are,í said Ellie. (I will say this for the poor noodle-brain. She really is loyal.) ĎAnd if he thinks there arenít, there arenít.í

Anexcellent tip. I really hoped he would remember it. But, frankly, he didnít look as if he was in the mood to try to remember anything while he was cleaning up after the party. It took all night. In the end, Ellie and I went off to bed, of course. But I was woken several times by all the tinkling and muttering and cursing and banging as he swept up broken glasses and pulled the furniture the right way up to shove it back in place.

But, letís face it, Ellieís father has never had much thought for others. Selfish and inconsiderate, thatís him.

At least, thanks to Ellie, I now have a good way of taking revenge on him whenever heís mean to me. What did she say? ĎIf Tuffy thinks that thereís a ghost in the closet, then there is.í So if I feel like giving him a good nightís sleep, I settle down on Ellieís bed and yawn and close my eyes. And so does she. Within a minute or two, sheís fast asleep.

And, if I feel like paying him back for any of his petty meannesses (like having a party to celebrate Halloween instead of my birthday), I stare at the closet most uneasily, until Ellie hurries off to sleep in her mumís bed.

Then he gets sent along the hall to have a bad night in the Bed of Lumps.

And I feel great.

5. THE KILLER CAT’S CHRISTMAS

1: Horrible, horrible, horrible!

OKAY, OKAY! SO run off sobbing, but I did not kill that moth onpurpose. It was not my fault. I do agree that I reached out to biff it once or twice. But it wasannoying me, flapping round and round my face.

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _3.jpg]

And Iím not sure that itís dead anyway. I mean, I saw it sort of flapping off, looking a bit lopsided. But after that it disappeared. For all I know, the thingís still somewhere in the house, minding its own business and mucking about wherever it wants.

Unlike me, locked in this garage in disgrace, after a horrible Christmas.

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _4.jpg]

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So go on, ask me.ĎDear, dear Tuffy,why was your Christmas so horrible?í

And Iíll explain: because it is a festival that wasnít made for cats. Just think about it. Thereís a tree weíre not allowed to climb.

And there are tempting dangly decorations weíre not allowed to touch.

And there are glorious glittering strands of bright, bright tinsel hung far too high for us to reach. Shiny wrapped presents we have to keep our paws off.

And, if weíre really unlucky, horrible cold white snow all over the garden.

No.Not my favourite time of year.

So go on. Ask the next question.ĎBut, Tuffy, what on earthhappened? How come youíve ended up locked in the garage?í

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _6.jpg]

Iíll tell you. It was because this Christmas was even worse than usual. This Christmas was terrible.

Frightful.

Awful.

Miserable.

All wrong.

Horrible, horrible, horrible. Thatís what it was.

Iíll tell you the whole story.

2:ĎOh, goody gumdrops! Hoppers!í

THE CAR DREW up outside and out they all spilled, as usual. Our Christmas visitors. Thatís Ellieís Aunt Ann, her husband, Brian, and the soppy twins.

I hate having visitors. They park their bottoms in the comfiest chairs. They dump their suitcases in all my favourite corners. They rattle their clothes around in the cupboards I like to use to take a quiet nap. Their stupid great feet keep stumbling over my food dish.

But Ellie loves company. She couldnít wait to rush out of the house to greet her cousins. ĎLucilla! Lancelot! Oh, Iím so glad youíre here!í

She might have been glad they were here. I have a forkful of brain inside my head so I wasnít quite so keen. As she ran one way, I sneaked off the other to find somewhere good to hide.

I heard them wheel their suitcases inside.ĎWhereís Tuffy? We must say hello to darling, darling Tuffy!í

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They searched the house. But I was stretched out flat on top of the cupboard in the hall. They couldnít find me, so they finally gave up.

ĎForget Tuffy for a moment,í said Lancelot. ĎLetís do something else. Letís play on the bouncy hoppers.í

ĎOh, goody gumdrops! Hoppers!í

The three of them rushed off. Phew! I jumped down from the cupboard and went upstairs. The bathroom window was ajar, so I crept out and spent a quiet half hour on the garage roof, secretly watching the three of them bounce up and down the drive, clutching the sticky-up ears. It was a laugh. Ellie kept falling off. But then Lucilla started to sing some half-baked bouncing song that sheíd made up about Ďsweet little mousies in housiesí.

It got on my nerves, so I took off. I picked my way along the tree branch and jumped down on the fence.

Lucilla saw me.ĎTuff-eee! Tuff-eee!í

She bounced towards the fence so hard she couldnít stop. Is itmy fault the fence is wobbly? I didnít mean to stick my sharp little claws out quite so far to get a grip as I swayed this way and that.

Or keep them out when I fell off the fence, on to her hopper.

PoooooooooooooooooooooofÖ

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _9.jpg]

Okay, okay! So pump me up with air, and tie a knot in me. I clawed a hole in her hopper. For heavenís sake, it was an accident! How was it my fault that it sort of shrivelled under her, and she fell off?

I hurried under the thorn bush. Lucilla rolled over on to her hands and knees and started wheedling into the greenery.ĎOh, Tuffy, dearest! Donít you remember us? Itís me, Lucilla. Lancelotís here too. Oh, please come out so we can cuddle you.í

ĎYes,í Lancelot echoed. ĎOh, darling Tuffy.Please come out.í

Oh, I came out all right. But on the other side, and straight back up on the fence. From there, I jumped on the garage roof, and into the house through the bathroom window.

So go on! Boil me in bubble bath! Maybe I wasnít quite as careful as I should have been, walking along the sill. Perhaps some of the fancy bottles of shampoos and lotions did get tipped on to the floor. But it wasnítme who left the tops off. So how wasI supposed to know that they were going to make a mess like thatĖ a huge, foaming, slimy puddle of froth and goo and gel? All I was trying to do was get away to somewhere Iíd be left in peace.

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _10.jpg]

And maybe choosing to hide under Ellieís motherís best silver party frock was not the smartest idea. ButI didnít pull the stupid thing off its hanger. It fell off by itself as I rushed in the closet. Okay, so maybe I did root about a bit, trying to make myself comfy. But how was I to know Iíd pop off all those sequins? All I was doing was trying to take a littlenap. Canít a pet take a nap in his own house without Ellieís mother ending up sitting in a heap on the carpet, picking the cat hairs off a ruined frock and sobbing her heart out?

I ask you. Honestly! How wet isthat?

3:ĎThe whole of Christmas in a cattery!í

IT WOKE ME up, though, all that boohooing from Ellieís mum. Then Mr Grumpy rushed up the stairs to find out what was going on, and things turned nasty. There were some harsh words.

ĎYou furry vandal!í Ellieís father snarled. ĎYou foul and spiteful beast!í

I played it cool, raising an eyebrow at him.

He hates it when I put on myĎnot botheredí look, and flick my tail at him. ĎLook what youíve done!í he fumed. ĎYouíve turned a beautiful and expensive frock into a filthy rag!í He waved it in my face. ĎLook at it! Torn to shreds!í

Now Ellie had arrived, with Lucilla and Lancelot in tow. They all stuck up for me.ĎOh, please donít blame Tuffy!í begged Lancelot.

ĎHe didnít mean to spoil the frock!í insisted Lucilla.

ĎHeís just unsettled from having visitors,í Ellie explained to her father.

But Mr Blame-The-Cat-For-Everything was not having that. He wagged his telling-off finger.ĎDonít you believe it! This whiskery little waster knows full well what heís about. And I tell you this house would be a far, far better place if we just made the sensible decision to ask the vet to simply Ėí

I didnít catch the last few words. Ellie had let out a fearsome screech, and clapped her hands over my ears.

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _11.jpg]

I wriggled free in time to hear the end of his next threat:ĎĖ or spend the whole of Christmas in a cattery!í

Up came Ellieís hands again. This time, when I tugged back my head enough to hear, the only words I caught were: ĎĖ in some strong cage!í

Ellie was almost in tears. And so were Lancelot and Lucilla.

ĎOh,please donít say that, Uncle George!í

ĎNo, donít say that!í

But Ellieís father was still in a rage. ĎWell, itís my view that Ėí

ĎNo!í Ellie cried. ĎWe three will look after Tuffy! You neednít worry. Weíll keep him well away from you.í

Her father was still scowling.ĎAnd well away from all the clothes in the cupboards? And the tree? And all the food? And all the presents and the decorations?í

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ĎYes! Tuffy wonít spoilanything, I promise!í

Ellie pounced on me. And since for once I felt I would be safer out of there, I let her scoop me up and carry me off, down to the living room, well away from Mrs Still-Red-And-Weepy-Eyes, clutching the torn shreds of her ruined frock, and Mr Total-Grump.

4: Surprise, surprise!

SO THATíS HOW I ended up sitting like Goody-Two-Shoes on the sofa in the front room, while Lucilla and Lancelot drooled and drivelled over my brains and beauty.

ĎOh, Tuffy! Youíre so lovely.í

ĎYour furís sosoft.í

ĎAnd youíre soclever.í

ĎI wishwe had a cat.í

ĎOh, Ellie! Youíre solucky!í

It just went on and on. I stood it for about a minute or two, and then I reckoned it was time to leave, so I stood up.

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Quick as a flash, all three of them reached out to stop me. I was trapped.

ĎNo, Tuffy! We promised!í

ĎJust to keep you safe!í

ĎYou have to stay!í

I tried to wriggle free. Lucilla shut the door and Lancelot checked the window latch. Ellie could see that I was getting nervous, so,ĎNever mind,í she soothed. ĎLetís think of something to play.í

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Play? What does she think I am? Some newbornfluff ball? But it is always best to know whatís going on, so I stopped struggling long enough to listen. What was it going to be? Hide and Seek? (I hoped not. Most of the hiding places in this house are mine, mine,mine.) How about Murder in the Dark? (Step on me by mistake, and I will scratch a good chunk out of you!) Perhaps theyíd choose Tiddleywinks. (Better take care. Flick just one wink at me, and you aredead.)

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Surprise, surprise!

ĎLetís put on a show!í Lucilla said.

ĎYes!í Lancelot echoed. ĎLetís put on a little show!í

Ellie was bouncing up and down, clapping her hands.ĎOh, goody gumdrops! I love doing special little shows!í

I was embarrassed. (Ellieís such adrip.) But I did think I might at least be left to sit up on the dresser and sneer. I mean, you canít train cats to act or dance. No one would even try. You might be able to boss dogs about. But never cats.

So I thought Iíd be safe with special little shows.

Well, more fool me.

5: Frog in a wedding dress

SO GUESS WHAT The Three Softies finally decided that they were going to do.

Yes. Just my luck. A show of nursery rhymes that have a cat in them. Is that tattered old book that you grew out of years ago still on your shelf? Shall we run through some of the sweet little baby songs your granny used to warble to you when you were still in nappies?

Thereís ĎDing Dong Bell, Pussyís in the Wellí, of course. Then thereís that merry old favourite, ĎHey Diddle Diddle, the Cat and the Fiddleí. After that, there is the tragic tale of ĎThree Little Kittens who Lost their Mittensí. And ĎPussy Cat, Pussy Cat, Where Have You Been?í

Not to mention the sickly, revolting, soppy and Ellie-ish one I really, really hoped they had forgotten:ĎI Love Little Pussy, Her Coat is So Warmí.

Guess which they started with.

Thatís right. The one I hate the most. ĎI Love Little Pussyí.

Ellie was star of this show. The twins started bossing her about.ĎEllie, sit in front of the tree so all the sparkly decorations twinkle around you.í

ĎBe careful not to let Tuffy go. Remember what your dad said.í

ĎTip your head to one side, andsmile.í

ĎSpread out your skirts. Youíll look like a princess!í

Oh, I donít think so! Ellie was dressed in that frilly-dilly party frock she grew out of years ago. If you want my opinion, she looked more like an overgrown cream puff than a princess.

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The Two Big Dafties kept on rearranging her.ĎPut that arm more closely round Tuffy.í

ĎAnd show your pretty ring. Thatís right. Oh, Ellie! Now you look like something out of a fairy tale!í

(She did too. Like a frog in a wedding dress.)

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They started in onme.

ĎStop struggling, Tuffy. Try to look happy for the show!í

I didnít see why I should try to look happy. There I was, held too tight, and stuck under that stupid tree. Pine needles kept falling in my fur, and I was worried that the great fat lump of a Christmas fairy on the top would tumble through the branches on to my head. Sheís far too big and heavy for the tree. But Ellie made her, way back in nursery school, so everyone has to pretend she isnít the same shape as an exploding lavatory roll, and doesnít have a face that makes her look more like a squashed tomato than a pretty fairy.

6: Screams and tears

ALL RIGHT, ALL right! So spank me! I lost my temper. You would have lost yours too. (Faster than I did, probably.) I was sosick of being petted and fussed over and sung to by Ellie.

The trouble is that Ellie has a voice like one of those corncrake birds that are so famous for singing like two sticks being rubbed together. In fact, if you want my opinion, two sticks being rubbed together would make a much, much nicer noise than Ellie does when she sings.

Folding her arms round me, she began that stupid song for the ninetieth time.

ĎI love little pussy, her coat is so warm,

And if I donít hurt her sheíll do me no harm.í

Well, she was dead wrong, wasnít she? Because it was a nasty scratch I gave her. (Mind you, it was notdeliberate. I was just putting up a paw to try to stop her stroking me. So how was I supposed to guess that she had just decided her show would be much better if she suddenly leaned down to kiss me on the nose?

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Me. A cat! Kissed on the nose! If you ask me, she was pretty wellasking for trouble.)

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As you can imagine, there were screams and tears. Her mum and dad and Uncle Brian and Aunt Ann rushed in to find out what was going on. And suddenly everyone was peering at this teensy-weensy little bead of blood on Ellieís arm Ė you practically had to have amicroscope even to see itĖ and Uncle Brian was running round and round in circles, shouting about rabies.

Rabies! I was a bit put out, I can tell you. For one thing, Ellieís had her shots. And, for another, itís mad dogs and bats and things that give you rabies, not a musically gifted cat whoís simply had enough of hearing someone singing like two sticks rubbed together.

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I tell you I was so fed up that I walked out. Nobody noticed because they were all still fussing over Ellie. And thatís how I ended up inside a cupboard. All alone in the dark. Just two big staring eyes hiding from everyone, misunderstood as usual, and not at all looking forward to Christmas Day.

In fact, I was hoping that the whole idea of special little nursery rhyme shows would go away forever.

7: Twanging the spiderís web

BUT NO SUCH luck. All that they did was stick a plaster on to Ellieís arm and move on to a safer nursery rhyme.

ĎDing Dong Bell, Pussyís in the Wellí.

It wasnít areal well they planned to put me in, of course. Lucilla and Lancelot made it while Ellie was trying to tempt me out of the cupboard with some of Aunt Annís quite delicious bitesized salmon tarts. (She is so posh she calls them Ďcanap?sí.)

The twins used the box the coffee table came in. The two of them pulled out the staples and flattened it. Then they cut off the top, folded it into a circle and stapled it up again.

After theyíd painted grey squares all over it, it looked like a stone well. They carried it into the living room. It seemed that Lancelot was to be the star of this part of the show. He found some red velvet knickerbocker trousers in the dressing-up box and pranced around singing, ĎWho put him in?í and ĎWho took him out?í over and over.

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They didnít dare put me inside their stupid well.

ĎWait till weíve practised the song,í said Lancelot, giving me a worried look. ĎIt might be safer.í

ĎYes,í Lucilla agreed. ĎLetís not put Tuffy in there until weíre sure that weíve got everything right.í

Ellie looked down at the plaster on her arm, and then at me.ĎYes, Tuffy. You can be in the showlater.í

Iíd had enough of people telling me where I could or couldnít go in my own house. I gave a mighty squirm in Lucillaís arms.

Terrified, she let go.

I jumped straight in their silly well.

They were all thrilled.ĎOh, Tuffy! Youíre a genius!í

I raised my head and yowled.

They were all so excited.ĎLook! Tuffy can act! He can pretend that heís stuck down our well!í

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ĎOh, heís soclever!í

ĎQuick! Sing your song, Lancelot!í

So Lancelot started off again.ĎDing dong bell. Pussyís in the well. Who put her in?í he warbled.

The girls sang,ĎLittle Tommy Lynn.í

ĎWho took her out?í sang Lancelot.

ĎLittle Johnny Stout,í sang Lucilla and the Corncrake.

ĎI get the next two lines!í said Lancelot, and started singing, ĎWhat a naughty boy was thatĖí

But the girls butted in,ĎĖto try to drown poor pussy cat.í

Lancelot was getting cross.ĎI am the star of this show! So I get to sing the last two lines all by myself.í

ĎNo, you donít,í Lucilla argued. And she and Ellie sang together to try to drown him out:

ĎWho never did him any harm,

But killed the mice in his fatherís barn.í

I was so bored with listening to them singing and arguing that I settled down to watch a great fat hairy spider climb out of a staple hole inside the cardboard well, and start on a new web.

The spider was good fun to tease. I let it spin a couple of lines, and then reached out to twang oneĖ not so hard it broke, but just enough to set the spider bouncing.

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Spin, spin.

Twang, twang.

Bounce, bounce.

It was a laugh. I kept on doing it. But the spider was stubborn and kept on spinning. I was so busy twanging, I hardly noticed when The Three Bad Singers finished their stupid argument and started up again.

ĎDing dong bell!í Lancelot sang loudly. ĎPussyís in the well!í

ĎWho put him in?í chirruped Lucilla.

ĎLittle Tommy Lynn,í gargled the Corncrake.

ĎWho pulled him out?í warbled Lucilla.

And thatís when Lancelot reached over the side of the well to pull me out.

Well, donít blame me for everything that happened next! I already told you twice. I wasnít reallylistening. I was much more interested in twanging the webĖ a little harder each time. I donít see how I was supposed to know that suddenly Iíd twang too hard, and the spider would lose its grip on the web and fly up in the air.

Or that it would be Lancelotís turn to sing the next line of the nursery rhyme.

So that his mouth would be open wide.

Very,very wide.

Okay, okay! So scream the house down, everyone! Lancelot swallowed aspider. Whatís the big deal? Iíve seen him eating fish. Fish are a whole lot bigger than spiders. (And they have creepy eyes.)

And he ate pork last night. That is a lump of dead pigís bottom. So why make such a fuss about an eensy-weensy spider? And anyway, it was already deep down inside him, getting mixed up with his lunch. So there was really no point in reeling round and round the room, screaming and gagging and spluttering.

That spider was inside to stay.

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If anyone had any reason to make a fuss, it was the poor old spider, not fussy Lancelot.

Lucilla and Ellie were on my back, of course.ĎTuffy, that was somean!í

ĎThat was ahorrible thing to do, flicking that spider into Lancelotís mouth!í

ĎPoor Lancelot!í

Poor Lancelot? I like that! Why should Lancelot get all the sympathy? Who is it who has spent the whole day locked in a room with the The Three Show-Offs?

Me, thatís who.

So how about feeling sorry forme?

8: Chasing half-dead mousies

NOW IT WAS Lucillaís turn to be Star of the Show.

ĎWhich nursery rhyme will you choose?í they asked her.

Lucilla hugged herself with glee.ĎIím going to singPussy Cat, Pussy Cat, where have you been? Iíve been up to London to visit the Queen. Then I can wear that lovely, lovely crown in the dressing-up box.í

(These three can get excited aboutanything. The jewels on thatĎlovely, lovely crowní are stuck-on wine gums. I know that for sure because Iíve licked them.)

Ellie wasnít happy with Lucillaís choice. ĎOh, please donít letís do that one! I always cry when it gets to the bit that says,Pussy cat, pussy cat, what did you there? I frightened a little mouse under her chair.í

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ĎWhy?í Lancelot asked.

There was a silence. They all looked at me as if I was a criminalĖ as if I spent mywhole life chasing half-dead mousies round the house.

I was offended, if you want to know. They wouldnít open the door, so I just went and sat under the Christmas tree, next to the presents.

Okay, okay. So I wassulking. But how is itmy fault that my tail was flicking from side to side? I am a cat, and thatís what happens to our tails when we get cross. My tailís a part of me. From my point of view, itís just the end of my bottom. You donít spend all day looking to see exactly whatís going on at the end of your bottom, do you? Well, neither do I. So how was I supposed to notice that it was acting like a little furry brush, and flicking all those silly little labels off and out of sight, under the carpet?

It took them ages, but finally,finally, they managed to choose another rhyme for their show.

ĎďThree Little Kittens, They Lost Their MittensĒ,í decided Lucilla.

ĎYes! Perfect!í Ellie said. ĎWe can use Tuffy and my two soft cat toys.í

ĎUseí Tuffy? Excuse me! What am I now? A kitchen towel, or something?

NobodyĎusesí me.

Now Lancelot was pitching in.ĎAnd weíll need twelve little mittens.í

I looked up. Mittens? Onmy paws? Oh, no. No, no, no, no. Not even if they made me Star of the Show.

But they were already rushing off to look for what they needed. While they were gone, I had a laugh, reaching up to bat a few of the glittery balls off the tree. Just like last year, I gave myself five points if they fell down among the presents, and a bonus of five if they rolled on to the carpet.

I got a hundred and twenty points in all.

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Excellent score! Even better than last year. But thatís practising for you. You know what they always say: ĎPractice makes perfect.í

9: Bare at the bottom

OKAY, OKAY! SO no one warned them when they rushed back in. Three pairs of feet can trample on an awful lot of decorations before skidding to a halt. So there were crispy bits of glittery ball everywhere. All trodden in. Ellieís father had to get out the vacuum cleaner, and Ellieís mum spent ages picking tiny silver slivers out of the fluffy slippers Aunt Ann had left by the sofa.

Things were quite quiet after that, apart from Ellieís fatherís constant grumbling. ĎIknew we should have kept Tuffy behind bars. Look at that tree! What a mess! Practicallybare at the bottom now. And overloaded at the top. It looks quite shocking.í

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You could tell Ellie was worried I might end up in the cattery. She said,ĎWe could move some of the glittery balls that Tuffy couldnít reach down to the lower branches.í

But Mr Didnít-Get-His-Way was in a giant snit. ĎWhy would you do that? Just to help the fiendish little beast smash all the ones he couldnít reach before?í

Did you hear that? I get accused ofeverything.I didnít smash the glittery balls. All that I did was set them rolling where they got trodden on. Is it my fault if people canít be bothered to look where they are putting their big fat feet?

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I just gave him the cold cat stare as he went out. Then, sticking my paws over my ears, I tried not to listen as Ellie and Lancelot and Lucilla pranced about all afternoon, singing that great long boring nursery rhyme about the three prissy little kittens who spent their whole time losing their mittens, and finding their mittens, and getting their mittens dirty, and washing their mittens, and drying their mittens andĖ

Oh, excuse me. Their lifeís so dull I fell asleep just telling you about it.

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

10: Chocolate coins and sausages

THAT NIGHT, IN Ellieís bedroom, The Three Ninnies couldnít stop whispering excitedly. ĎYippee! Christmas Day tomorrow!í

ĎWeíll wake to find our stockings on our beds!í

ĎAnd weíll have sausages for breakfast!í

ĎThen weíll unwrap the presents under the tree!í

ĎEat a lovely big lunch!í

ĎAnd super-duper Christmas pudding!í

ĎThen everyone will come in the front room to watch our show!í

ĎItíll be magic!í

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I settled down on Ellieís bed. She put her arms round me. ĎOh, Tuffy! I do love you so.í

Sheís not so bad. I gave her a brief purr. I was quite looking forward to the stockings myself.

No such luck. Right in the middle of the night a huge hand scooped me up and dumped me out on the landing.ĎI think these stockings will be safer away from you.í

Well, thank you, Santa! All the other doors were closed, so I just settled on a nice warm towel I pulled down from the bathroom rack. It wasnít a bad night, though I was woken ridiculously early by frantic squeals. ĎLook! Santaís left our stockings!í

ĎChocolate coins!í

ĎIíve got a little jumping frog.í

ĎIíve got a clockwork mouse.í

Oh, please! Howold are Ellie and the twins?Three? You wouldnít catch me playing with a clockwork mouse Ė unless it was to push it into Aunt Annís furry slippers and give her a heart attack.

But I still reckoned it would be more fun to watch them unpacking their stockings than to hang around the bathroom on my own.

So I jumped up on Ellieís bed.

She threw her arms round me.ĎOh, Tuffy! Christmas ismagic, isnít it? You think so too, donít you, even though you donít like chocolate coins.í

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Who says I donít like chocolate coins? Theyíre bright and gold and shiny, and fun to bat off the bed.

Okay, okay! So twist my tail! Some of the ones I batted went down that giant hole that Mr I-Can-Fix-It-All-By-Myself made in the floor when he was sorting out that leaking pipe. Is it my fault the holeís so deep she couldnít fish them out again?

No. It ishis.

But not having quite so many chocolate coins as usual meant Ellie got hungry sooner. So we all went down for breakfast. There didnít seem to be too much Christmas Spirit coming my way. Nobody offered me a special breakfast. To get some sausages, I had to creep up beside Lancelot and jump in his lap, knocking his elbow.

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Success! The sausage he was trying to cut flew off on to the floor.

If it had been a mouse, I couldnít have pounced faster.

Got it!

I reckoned it was safer to take my prize out in the garden. So I rushed through the cat flap.

The last thing that I heard behind me was Mr Not-Very-Nice bolting it closed behind me.

Well, happy Christmas to you too!

11: Showers of falling food

WHILE I WAS looking for a way back in, the grownups must have cleared away the breakfast things and started to prepare for Christmas lunch. By the time I had found the only bedroom window that was unlatched, and squeezed inside, the turkey was already stuffed and trussed, and sitting forlornly in its tray, waiting to go in the oven.

I ask you. Honestly! They all go on and on about the way that I chase sparrows. But I wouldnever treat a bird like that.

Hypocrites!

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Anyhow, once it was safely in the oven (out of my reach) the four of them went through to the front room, to join the children, and unwrap the presents.

I had forgotten about the labels my tail had accidentally flicked away, out of sight under the carpet.

Uh-oh. The trouble started almost at once.

ĎWho is this gift for? It doesnít say.í

ĎThis one doesnít have a label.í

ĎNeither has this one. Or this.í

I couldnít help but look a bit uncomfortable. (I hadnít realized Iíd flicked off so many.) The children rooted around, lifted their heads and wailed, ĎWeíve looked atall the presents, and not one has a label.í

ĎWhat are we going todo?í

ĎWeíll simply have toguess.í

That didnít work too well, and arguments broke out all over. ĎI think this one is probably for me.í

ĎNo, dear. I think that Santa brought that one for Lucilla.í

That set Lucilla off.ĎBut I donít want it, Mummy. I like this present much better.í

ĎBut that one was meant for Ellie.í

ĎHow do youknow?í

ĎI just do, dear.í

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ĎYou canít read Santaís mind!í

ĎNeither can you!í

We were a little short on Christmas cheer. And then a scuffle started when Lancelot tried to snatch back a present that Ellieís father said was not for him. The carpet rucked up underneath his shoe, and there they were Ė all of the labels.

And one or two telltale ginger hairs, off my tail.

ĎA-ha!í cried Ellieís father.

Everyone turned to look at me. I turned to look at the door. I donít think it was my fault that, just at the moment that I fled towards it, Ellieís mother was coming in carrying a giant plate of tiny tarts and titbits and fancy little things on sticks.

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I just think I was lucky that, in the showers of falling food, I managed to get clean away.

12: Star of the show

I SKIPPED LUNCH. And the washing up. And all that fuss when Aunt Ann realized that there were lumps in her cake icing, and she would have to keep stirring.

I wasnít going back outside. Cold, wet and miserable. So I stayed out of sight, hiding in one of Uncle Brianís welly boots till I heard Ellie walk past.

ĎTuffy! Tuff-eee!í

I stretched up in the boot to see which way she was headed. That was a big mistake. The boot began to wobble and I lost balance.

Out I spilled, on to the floor.

She scooped me up.ĎTime for the show,í she told me. ĎAnd guess whoís going to be the star!í She nuzzled her nose in my fur. ĎYou are! Youíre going to be the very best of all of us because youíre soclever.í

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The best of them all! Soclever! How can you run away and hide when someone as caring as Ellie thinks that youíre the beesí knees? Call it the Christmas Spirit if you will, but suddenly I felt mean, trying to sneak away after theyíd worked so hard painting the well, and practising their songs, and making paper mittens for the two toy cats.

Theyíd even gone next door to borrow two tiny pairs of real woollen baby mittens they could fit on me.

How could I let them down?

So I gave up and let Ellie carry me into the front room. The cardboard well was on the rug. Lucilla and Lancelot were ready in their costumes. Aunt Ann had even stopped stirring her icing and put the mixing bowl safely down on the floor behind the sofa.

All of the grownups settled on the sofa, ready to watch. Even the huge fat fairy on the top of the Christmas tree seemed to be peering down and waiting for the show to start.

ĎReady?í Lucilla asked.

Why not? I thought. Why not do something nice for Ellie? Why not make the best of things, and turn their stupid little betsy-wetsy show into atriumph?

WOW them! Amaze them with my wonderful acting skills! Help out The Three Soft Noodles, and give the grownups the surprise of their lives!

Tuffy, the Acting Cat. Star of the Show.

Everything started brilliantly. We didĎI Love Little Pussyí first. When Ellie tipped her head winsomely to one side, I tipped mine even more winsomely to the other. I stared so lovingly into her eyes. I even purred. It was a shame the only decorations left on the tree were all up at the top, so they wonít show up on the photographs. But, still, Ellie and I made a nice pair, and if it wasnít for her awful corncrake voice, that bit of the show would have beenperfect. CertainlyI was

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excellent. I think I totally surprised her dad. And Uncle Brian and Aunt Ann and Ellieís mother clapped like mad when the song ended.

Then it wasĎDing Dong Bellí.

That was a triumph too. I let them put me in the well, then I crouched down and hid, as if it was really deep. I yowled a bit through the first verse, making my voice sound tragic yet musical. The scene was very moving.

Then we got to the bit where Lancelot pulled me out, and as I reached up to nuzzle him under his chin in pretend gratitude, I even saw Aunt Ann brush away a tear.

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We all took a bow after that one. When the applause from the sofa finally died down, we moved on to the third and last show:ĎThree Little Kittensí.

Lucilla set the two toy cats in place on the carpet. She and Ellie made sure their paper mittens were on straight. Then they pulled Next-doorís babyís woollen mitts on to my paws.

I was such a star! I didnít evenstruggle. I actually held out each paw in turn to help. I could tell Ellieís father was pretty surprised to see me acting so sweet and easy-going. But he said nothing, just sat there, looking suspicious as usual.

And off we went. First I pranced around in my mittens to show I was wearing them. Then Ellie, Lancelot and Lucilla started on the first verse:

ĎThree little kittens, they lost their mittens.í

They tugged the paper off the toy catsí feet while I slipped behind the sofa to kick my own off by myself.

The trouble was, I kicked my mitten booties off so hard, they slid under the sofa.

All the way under. Where I wouldnít be able to get at them later, when I needed them back.

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No time to stop the show, so I came rushing back in time to rub my eyes with my paws as Lucilla and Lancelot and Ellie sang,ĎAnd they began to cry.í

Now it was Ellieís turn to act the Mother Cat, scolding us.

ĎWhat? Lost your mittens? You bad little kittens!

Then you shall have no pie.í

Time to get back in my mittens. I scuttled round behind the sofa. But it was hopeless. Even if I stretched, I couldnít reach them.

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So go on, all you big-heads out there, reading this. So what wouldyou have done? Just given up?

Not me! I wasnít going to spoil the show. All that I needed was four white mittens. And there beside me was the bowl of icing for the cake.

Snow-white. Not too shallow. Not too deep.

And I was Star of the Show.

(Unlucky) 13: The fairy on the Christmas tree

OKAY, OKAY. SO I went paddling in the cake icing. Brilliant idea, I thought. When I walked into the show, I looked exactly as if Iíd put the white woollen mittens back on perfectly, all by myself.

Nobody noticed at first. Ellie, Lucilla and Lancelot were busy singing.

ĎThree little kittens, they foundtheir mittens.í

I pranced about. That was my big mistake, for Ellieís mother couldnít help noticing that I was leaving footprints Ė snow-white icing footprints Ė all over the carpet.

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She pointed.ĎLook!í

The singing stopped.

ĎLook at the mess Tuffy is making!í said Ellieís mother. ĎWhatís that all over his paws?í

ĎIt looks like Ėí Aunt Ann stood up and hurried round behind the sofa. We heard a shriek. It sounded like an express train screeching to a halt when a green light turns red.

Aunt Ann picked up the bowl and held it out for all to see.ĎLook! Look at my icing! Itís ruined! All churned up, and full of paw marks!í

Ellieís dad went mad. ĎThat pest of a cat! This time heís gone too far! I warn you, the moment the vetís office opens up again after Christmas, Iím taking Tuffy down there to Ėí

ĎNo!í Ellie hurled herself towards her father but, blinded by tears, she bumped into Lancelot. He knocked his sister, who fell in the well. I knew that, if Ellieís dad got hold of me, heíd have my guts for garters. So while Ellieís and Lancelotís legs and arms were madly flailing about,getting tangled, I tried to make it to the door.

But Mr I-Have-Had-Enough was blocking the way. So I rushed out of sight behind the sofa. Then, while Ellie pulled herself free and started to shout at her fatherĖ ĎYou leave poor Tuffy alone! Youírealways picking on him!í Ė I slid away, under the tree. There were no glittery balls to hide me in the bottom half, so I climbed up the back, branch by branch, higher and higher, while everyone was busy picking themselves up, and comforting Aunt Ann, and rushing off for cloths to clear up the icing footprints.

Now I was almost at the top. Only Ellieís fat cardboard fairy was higher.

And then I suddenly thought of a brilliant way to hide myself. I looked up at Ms Tomato-Face on top of the tree.ĎThis is the end for you, Sunshine!í I muttered to her. ĎYou have had your days of glory. Now move over. I am going to be the new Christmas fairy.í

I poked a paw up through her big fat cardboard roll. Her stupid red tomato face fell off and bounced a few branches down.

Creepy!

But Iíd no time to hang about shivering. Hastily I shoved my head up through the space sheíd left, and tried to put on the same snooty simpering look sheíd worn for years.

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _43.jpg]

Personally, looking back, I think the white frills probably suited me, and I lookednice in them. I rather wish theyíd had the time to take a proper photo of their dear Tuffy as the new fairy at the top of the tree. I would have liked to show it to my friends.

But Ellieís dad was right. The tree was not just bare at the bottom; it was overloaded at the top.

Too overloaded.

What they callĎtop heavyí.

It started toppling. It was far worse than being in the welly boot because I was much higher. It was like being in the crowís nest of some ancient galleon when it keels over in a storm.

It took a long time for the tree to fall. They were all fussing and yelling.ĎStep back!í

ĎThe tree is crashing down!í

ĎWatch out!í

ĎLook at this mess!í

ĎOur lovely well! Totally squashed!í

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _44.jpg]

ĎThereís not a single decoration left! Smashed! Every last one of them!í

ĎIím bruised all over.í

ĎWhere is that damn cat?í

Well, I was on the floor, of course. Pretty well splatted flat, still trying to be the Christmas fairy. It was the ears that gave me away. Christmas-tree fairies donít have pointy little furry ears like mine.

So that explains how I ended up spending the rest of that day, and the next, locked in the garage. Ellie was only allowed to have me in her bedroom overnight, and then I was put back in here until the visitors go this afternoon and Christmas is over.

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: _45.jpg]

I donít mind. In fact, I think Iíve come out of this spat with her father quite well. After all, when you consider that Mr Letís-Take-Tuffy-Down-The-Vetís is stuck behind in the house, still picking bits of Christmas decoration out of the carpet, and doing all the washing up, I think Iíve got it easy. Popped hoppers are quite comfortable to laze around on. And now that mothís come back, I even have someone to play with. Certainly itís been a whole lot better than being in the house.

But, still, I wonít be counting the days till 25th December comes round again. Remember that question you asked me at the start? ĎDear, dear Tuffy,why was your Christmas so horrible?í

Well, you wonít have to ask again, will you?

Because now you know.

7. THE KILLER CAT RUNS AWAY

1

Silly Pink Babies

OK, OK. So twist my tail. I spat at the stupid baby. But it wasannoying me, lying there in its frilly basket, chuckling and gurgling. The thing waslaughing at me. And no one likes being laughed at. Especially not me. Iím not called Tuffy for nothing. And I didnít earn the nickname of Ďthe killer catí from sitting purring on a cushion.

And then this baby poked its finger in my eye. For heavenís sake! It could have hurt me. So it was lucky, really. I could have bitten it. Or scratched it. But I only spat. Spit doesnít hurt at all, so whyís everyone picking on me?

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: img_2]

ĎTuffy!í said Ellie. ĎGet away from the baby at once!í

She rushed to scoop it up. I donít know why. It wasnít even yelling. The baby didnít mind. It was still laughing as if the whole thing was a giant joke. And there was only a tiny bit of dribble running down its face. Nobody in this house has any sense of humour at all. They all go mad about the slightest thing.

ĎThat cat is not to be trusted,í said Ellieís father. ĎHeís the most jealous creature under the sun.í

I like that! Jealous? Me? Of something that canít even walk or feed itself? I gave the man the slit-eyed stare. But he just stared right back and said to Ellie, ĎRemember poor Tinkerbell?í

Ellie went pale. Of course she remembered. Tinkerbell was a small kitten the family had to look after for four whole days. You wouldnít believe the fuss they made of her.

ĎIsnít she pretty? So fluffy! And so sweet!í

ĎLook, Ellie! Tinkerbellís learned how to flick her tail!í

ĎSee her tiny pink tongue! Look, Mum! Look quickly, while sheís lapping up her milk!í

ĎSheís not cold, is she? If sheís cold, push Tuffy off the rug and let Tinkerbell sit near the fire instead.í

ĎI think sheís hungry. Shall we offer her a dish of cream?í

Offer her cream? She didnít even live with us! We were just kitten-sitting for a day or so. And I was their real pet, not Tinkerbell. Iíd lived with them for years, ever since Ellie got old enough to nag them into getting me. Is it surprising that I got a little testy?

And that I wouldnít let Tinkerbell sleep in any of my favourite places.

And that I accidentally pushed her off the windowsill.

And ate her special, juicy baby kitten food, all by mistake.

And all the other stupid, petty things that they complained about. No, I donít think that Tinkerbell will be in any hurry to come and stay with us again.

And thereís no room, in any case. Because they clearly prefer silly pink babies now.

If theyíre not careful I shall spit at it again.

2

Parasite

OK, OK. So cover me with jam and put me in a box of wasps. I broke their new television. It was anaccident! I didnít mean to tip the screen over like that. I was after a bumblebee, and if that stupid television hadnít been in the way, I would have got it too. No one likes being stung by bees. They should have beengrateful to me.

And whose fault was it that the new, slim, wide, high-definition screen wasnít fixed on its stand more safely in the first place?

Yes! Thatís right. It was Ellieís dadís fault, not mine. You only had to watch Mr Oh-Thatíll-Probably-Be-AllRight fixing the screen so loosely onto the base to know that it was almost bound to fall off. Even without someone like me crashing into it hard.

And whose fault was it that I didnít manage to get over the screen in my amazing leap?

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: img_3]

Thatís right. It was Ellieísmotherís fault. She is the one who feeds me. If she has got it wrong and let me get a smidgeon over my ideal jumping weight, who is to blame?

Clearly not me.

You should have heard Ellieís dad when he came in and saw the damage. Talk about wild! ĎThis screen is ruined! Ruined! Claw marks all over, and both the top corners chipped! Look what that great, fat, stupid, tiresome, idiotic, unpleasant, vicious, dangerous parasite has done now!í

Excuse me?Parasite?

Now thatís not nice. In case you donít already know, parasites are all those nasty things like nits and tapeworms and fleas and ticks that do nothing except sponge off other people to stay alive. I am not like that. I let myself be stroked. I let myself be fed. I let myself be cuddled. (Only by Ellie. And onlysometimes. But you take my point.)

Iím not a parasite. Howdare he? I wonít put up with rudeness like that. I tell you, next time he looks in his chest of drawers, heís going to find hairs over everything. On all his socks. And on his pants and vests. Donít think I canít lick quite enough hairs off me to make his underweardisgusting.

I can pay him back.

3

The Same Old Boring Cat-Chat

He was a whole lot crosser than I thought. I slipped out for a quick smell tour around the wheelie bins with Tiger and Bella and Snowball. But when I strolled back in, what should I come across but what he callsĎa family conferenceí and I call ĎThe Same Old Boring Cat-Chat that Iíve heard over a thousand timesí.

ĎWhat shall we do about Tuffy?í

There they all were, huddled together in the living room: Old Mr Grumpy. The Kitten-Loving Queen. And Ellie.

I hung around outside the door, eavesdropping as usual.

ĎSo,í says Mr Football-on-Telly-Addict-Gone-Mad, ĎI say that was the last straw, and we should find another home for Tuffy.í

Just like she always does, Ellie burst into tears.ĎNo! No! You canít! Tuffyís my pet!í

Her mother usually sticks up for me. But not this time.ĎBut heís not safe with babies. Or with kittens.í

ĎOr televisions,í Ellieís dad added bitterly, still harping on about his own sad loss.

Now Ellie stamped her foot.ĎBut heís mypet!í

Thatís when her father turned even more cunning than usual. ĎEllie, I know youíre very fond of Tuffy. But we could always find you another pet.í

ĎYes,í said her mother. ĎOne thatís a bit more gentle and doesnít cause quite so much damage.í

ĎPerhaps a kitten†.†.†.í said her dad.

ĎLike Tinkerbell†.†.†.í her mother said hopefully.

ĎBut what aboutTuffy?í Ellie said through her tears. ĎWhat will happen to him?í

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: img_4]

ĎOh, you know cats,í said Mr Get-What-You-Want-Whichever-Sneaky-Way-You-Can. ĎTheyíre not like dogs. They donítadore their owners. So long as theyíre warm and comfy, and the grubís good, cats can be happy anywhere. And there are plenty of other places Tuffy could go.í

I took a peek round the door and saw Ellieís mother shaking her head at the pulled threads on her sofa where I like to scratch to keep my claws in trim. ĎYes,í she agreed. ĎHomes that are far more suitable than ours.í

ĎThatís right,í said Ellieís father. ĎWeíll find a home where heíll be just as happy.í

This is the moment when Ellie always hurls herself face down on the sofa, sobbing and wailing, and threatens to run away if they get rid of me, her precious pet. This is the moment when sheís supposed to shout at them: ĎIf you donít love dear Tuffy enough to keep him, then you donít love me!í

But there was silence.

Just a long, long silence.

The longest silenceever.

I peered round the door again and couldnít believe my eyes! Ellie was dashing away her tears and looking hopeful.

ĎReally? Another home where Tuffy will be just as happy?í

ĎThatís right!í said Mr I-Never-Did-Like-That-Cat-Anyway.

ĎAnd I could have another pet? A pretty kitten, just like Tinkerbell?í

ĎWhy not?í

Shall I tell you what I did then? I sat behind the door and waited. And I didnít just wait. Icounted to myself. One, two, three, four†.†.†.

And would you like to know how long it took before Ellie burst into tears again and started sticking up for me?

It took eleven seconds! Can you believe it? Eleven whole seconds before that disloyal child finally remembered who is supposed to be her amazing, precious Tuffy. The Tuffy she even thinks she will be taking to the specialĎMy Wonderful Petí show in her school hall next Thursday evening. (Ho, ho! Sheíll be lucky!) The Tuffy she loves Ďso much and always have and always will, for ever and ever and everí.

Eleven great long seconds!

What a cheek!

4

One Good Reason to Stay

That night I told the gang,ĎIím going to run away.í

They all stared.ĎRun away? Butwhy?í

ĎBecause Iím not happy at home.í

ĎWhatís wrong with your home?í demanded Tiger. ĎThe place is warm, isnít it?í

ĎWell, yes,í I had to admit. ĎThe place is warm.í

ĎAnd comfy enough,í said Bella.

ĎYes, I grant you itís comfy enough,í I said reluctantly.

Snowball said,ĎAnd the grub in your house is very good indeed.í

ĎObviously the grub is good,í I said, Ďor I wouldnít still be there.í I waved an irritable paw. ĎBut give me one good reason why I ought to stay.í

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: img_5]

ĎApart from the fact that itís warm, and comfy, and the grub is good?í

ĎYes,í I said. ĎApart from that.í

They all had a good long think. But none of them could come up with a single reason why I ought to stay (apart from the fact that the house is warm and comfy, and the grub is good).

ĎWell, there you go,í I said triumphantly when they had racked their brains. ĎNot one of you can think of anything. So I have no choice but to run away.í

5

A Chapter of Sad Farewells

I went around saying fond farewells to all the things Iíve loved so long.

ĎGoodbye, dear Pot Plant,í I said. ĎI expect that youíll miss me scratching around in your soil when itís too cold and wet for me to bother to go outside to do my business.í I brushed away a tear. ĎAnd I shall miss you too.í

I went into the kitchen.

ĎAdieu, my beloved Frying Pan,í I sighed. ĎHow many times have I stood beside you on the counter, licking your leftover bacon fat when no one else was about! We have been friends for so long, Frying Pan. But this is the end.í

I went upstairs.

ĎThis is the parting of the ways,í I told Alarm Clock. ĎBut we have shared so many happy moments. How often I have crept in here by moonlight when Mr I-Must-Not-Be-Late has set you carefully for seven oíclock. How often I have braved his rattling snores to jump on the bedside table and reach out a silent paw to push your ON button to OFF. And how the two of us have enjoyed his desperate shrieks of panic when he wakes late in the morning. Oh, I shall miss you, Alarm Clock!í

I slid under Mr I-Do-Not-Snore-I-Just-Breathe-Heavilyís side of the bed.

ĎSo long, Bedroom Slippers,í I said. ĎIf I had a single tear for every dead mouse Iíve slipped into your toes to frighten Mr Oh-My-Lord-Whatís-This?, then I could weep a river to say goodbye to you. Please donít feel lonely and neglected without my little gifts. Goodbye! Goodbye!í

I went downstairs to the piano.

ĎAdios, my musical friend! After today I shall walk up and down your keys no more, making you plink and plunk and driving everyone mad. Our happy hours are over. Iím off into the world, and we shall sadly never finish our masterwork:The Tuffy Piano Concerto for Four Paws.í

I thought it would be nice to leave with that sweet tune still ringing in my ears. So I walked up and down the keys a bit. (I like to stick to the black ones. They sound more plinky-plunky. And every time one of my paws slides off onto a white key, I tend to get a little cross, and stamp.)

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: img_6]

ĎWhat is thatdreadful noise?í

Whoops! Mr Not-At-All-Musical poked his head round the door.ĎYou! Well, you can get off that piano at once!í

He pushed me off. Ihate that, so I spun round in the air on my way down and scratched him hard.

ĎYeee-ouch!í

He glared at me, and I glared back at him.

That is one person in this house to whom I wonít be saying any fond farewell.

6

So Spank My Bum

So spank my furry little bum, I didnít say goodbye to Ellie. I meant to. Thatís why I went back up the stairs and into her bedroom. Thatís why I jumped up at her side and started to purr in her ear.

Then I saw what she was looking at on her computer screen.

Kittens!

Cute baby fluff-balls. Sweet little winsome things with huge eyes staring out. You wouldnít believe their names. Sugar-Pie. Binty-Minty. Pansy-Wansy. Prissy-Missy. (Excuse me while I stick a paw down my throat.)

Ellie stopped at the photo of a kitten called Titania. (I ask you! Titania! For acat!)

ĎLook, Tuffy. Isnít shecute?í

Sometimes I think itís a good thing that I canít speak. Because if I could, I would have told young Ellie just what I think of idiotic, brainless balls of fluff that canít clean their own fur or creep up on anything taking a quick nap in a nest. Why, some of them canít even find the way to the litter tray on their tenth day.

So itís a good job I donít talk. I wouldnít have liked the last few words that I exchanged with Ellie to be unpleasant.

So I never said goodbye.

7

Dead Mice and Birds? Eee-yuk

!

Out on the wall, the gang were waiting.

ĎSo,í Bella said. ĎYouíre really off?í

ĎYes,í I said proudly. ĎIím not going to stay where Iím not wanted.í

They were still anxious.ĎBut, Tuffy, if no one in Ellieís family is there to put your food in front of you, what are you going toeat?í

I had a think. In the end I said,ĎI am a cat, so if I donít find anything else, thereís always the old traditional stand-by.í

They all looked blank.

ĎDead mice and birds,í I said.

I donít think I have ever seen three faces look more disgusted.

ĎDead mice and birds? Eee-yuk!í

ĎYouíre joking!í

ĎWhat, pick off all that hair and fur and feathers and stuff, and actuallyeat the things?í

ĎRevolting!í

ĎHorror-show idea!í

ĎFull gross-out!í

ĎWhat a sick plan! You must be off your head.í

ĎListen,í I said. ĎDead mice and birds is what catsused to eat.í

They werenít convinced. ĎYes. Back in theStone Age!í

ĎBefore cat food was invented.í

ĎAbout a million years ago.í

ĎDonít be such wimps,í I told them. ĎWhy, I can remember my mother telling me proudly that my own great-grandfather was known as a splendid mouser.í

ĎI bet he didníteat the things he caught.í

ĎI bet he did,í I argued.

Tiger was determined.ĎNo way. Heíd have been sick.í

ĎIíd have been sick justwatching him,í added Snowball.

I wasnít going to hang around and argue. It was getting dark. So I got Bella and Snowball to hold my collar tight while I slipped out of it.

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: img_7]

Then,ĎFarewell, gang!í I said. ĎIím off to seek my fortune. Wish me luck!í

They all came further along the wall to watch me go. Tiger waved a forlorn paw.ĎDonít you forget us, Tuffy!í

ĎNo, donít forget us. We wonít ever forget you.í

ĎNo, never.í

8

Tuffy the Busker

I thought it best to go where no one knew me. After all, I didnít want nosy people peering down at me. ĎArenít you that cat from Acacia Avenue that dug up all my petunias? Iím going to take you home.í

So I went further into town than I do usually. It was quite busy. There were a lot of people standing at bus stops and hurrying across the streets. I wandered up and down till, from round the corner, I heard someone playing a tune I like on a mouth organ.

I stopped to listen. Whoever was playing began to sing the words:

ĎScooby-scooby, swish-swish

Fishy in a dish-dish

Make a little wish-wish

That it tastes delish-lish.í

Just the thought made me feel peckish. I turned the corner, and there in a doorway stood a young man. Heíd put a paper plate on the pavement, and passers-by were putting down their shopping bags and fishing in their pockets to toss in coins.

A busker!

He had been given quite a lot of money. I watched for a while, and every few minutes heíd scoop up a few coins and put them in his pocket. Then heíd start singing again.

I could do that! I could sing too, and maybe some of the shoppers would open their bags and drop me a tiny chunk of chicken from their ready-cooked suppers, or peel a slice of smoked salmon off the top of their pack.

Yum, yum. Delish-lish!

So I went round the next corner to find a doorway for myself, and to collect the little gifts that I expected to get I dragged a fairly clean takeaway dinner tray out of the gutter.

And then I sang.

I sang my little heart out. First I tried charming them with that forlorn old song about the kitten whose paws get frozen in the snow.

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: img_8]

Then I sang that song that makes soft people weep about the tabby cat who starves to death up a tree. (Per-lease! How old areyou? And how many catsí skeletons have you seen dangling from high branches so far in life? None. Thatís right.None.)

And then I gave my all to my own favourite,The Wild Catsí Chorus.

None of them worked. Not one. People just clutched their heads and hurried by. Some of them even glowered. Nobody bothered to stop to say,ĎWhat charming melodies! And what a lovely voice!í

In fact, they were quite rude. I kept hearing snatches of what they said as they rushed past.

Ď.†.†.†horrible yowling noise†.†.†.í

Ď.†.†.†shouldnít be allowed†.†.†.í

Ď.†.†.†perfectlyghastly†.†.†.í

Ď.†.†.†clearly inmisery. Ought to be put down†.†.†.í

Then one man had the cheek to pick up my collection tray and drop it in the litter bin along the street.

I gave up singing then, and just walked on. Time for another plan.

9

The Wild Catsí Chorus

This time I was smart. I walked up a nice-looking road and found a nice-looking house with a nice-looking lady unloading nice-looking groceries from her nice-looking car.

She looked a tiny bit familiar. But then, I get about. Iíve met a lot of people. So anyhow, I thought, This place will do.

First thing: get introduced. I wrapped myself round her legs, all the time purring madly.

The woman reached down to stroke me. Suddenly she looked a little nervous.ĎHang on,í she said. ĎHavenít I seen you before? Wasnít it you who got in a flying fur fight with another cat in our school playground once, and upset all my tiny Year Ones?í

Uh-oh! Now I remembered who she was! Ellieís head teacher!

But I was hungry, and they were nice-looking groceries. So I turned the purring up to Regulo 8. It worked a treat.ĎOh, no,í she said. ĎI must be wrong. Youíre such a sweet and friendly cat, and that one was downrighthorrible. Why, our school crossing guard still has a scar where that vile animal scratched her.í

I tried to look sympathetic as I followed her inside the house. I kept up the heavy purring while she put away her shopping. Then she bent down to feel around my neck.

ĎNo collar.í

Of course, no collar. I am a good deal smarter than that!

She sighed.ĎOh, dear. I suppose Iíd better feed you.í She shook a finger. ĎBut itís just this once!í

Just this once? Ho, ho, ho. Everyone knows if you feed a cat once, it has you on a string for life. So I was in. She fed me tuna from a can, and picked me up to carry me around. I didnít struggle at all. It was an act of will, but I kept purring.

Even when she showed me her parrot.

ĎLook,í she said, pointing to his cage. ĎMeet Gregory.í

Gregory the Parrot gave me the blink, and I blinked back.

ĎI hope youíll both be friends,í she said.

I purred my hardest.

ĎGregoryís very clever,í she told me. ĎIím going to shut you in the kitchen. But if you hear lots of odd noises and voices while Iím out, you mustnít be afraid. Thatíll be Gregory imitating things heís heard.í

I purred and nodded.

ĎGood,í she said. ĎNow Iím afraid I have to nip back to school to sort out a few things for the special ďMy Wonderful PetĒ show weíre holding on Thursday evening. Iíll find your owner tomorrow. But just for tonight, you can stay here.í

She picked up her briefcase and left.

So I sat in the kitchen.

Just a kitchen.

Boring. Dead boring.

Then Gregory started up. First he didĎcreaking doorí and Ďthe wheelie-bin rumbleí. After that he did ĎFireworks Nightí. Then he did his owner saying, ĎOh, Gregory! You know I get headaches from horrid noises. Canít you do something quiet andnice?í

OK, OK. So boil me in bunny juice! I taught himThe Wild Catsí Chorus. I yowled it from the kitchen, and Gregory the Parrot picked it up in no time. Soon we were yowling away together so it was twice as loud, and he learned how to do that too. And by the time Iíd had enough of singing along with him, Gregory could sound like four cats singing, not just one, all by himself.

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: img_9]

Stellar!

The problem was that he was so excited with his new trick he kept it up for two whole hours after Ellieís head teacher came back.

So naturally I got thrown out.

10

The Perfect Home

I spent the night in the tool shed. Then, in the morning, I set off to find a better home. I had a tiny thought that I might go back to Ellie. I was quite sure she would have realized her mistake by now, and be lying face down on her bed, sobbing her poor broken heart out and wailing my name to the heavens.

But as I strolled along the street, what should I see but a notice stuck on a lamppost.

And then another.

And another.

And more and more. All the same.

I stretched up to take a look. It was aĎlost catí notice, with a photo of the roughest, toughest, sourest, grumpiest-looking moggie youíve ever seen in your life.

I couldnít help but think: Whoíd want to havethat thug back?

Then I peered a little closer.

It wasme.

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: img_10]

I took a long look down the street. Sure enough, far in the distance I could see Ellieís mum, stopping at every lamppost to stick up yet another of her insulting posters.

Thecheek of it! For one thing, I am not aĎlost catí. I am a cat who has moved on to better things! And for another, theyíd picked the worst photo ever.Not my best side. I mean, I do not look like that! Not all the time, anyhow! Not every day. SometimesĖ perhaps Ė if I am in a really fed-up mood. But hardly ever! Almost never!

No one would recognize me from that photo. No one. Not in a million years!

So I strolled on quite happilyĖ though it was odd how many people I saw glance at the posters then bend down to try to pick me up. (I simply spat them off.)

And then I found what I was looking for.

The perfect home.

It had wide windowsills to lounge on. The garden was a jungle. (Good hunting there!) Some of the windows were unlatched. The wheelie-bin lid was off. And, best of all, there was a fish pond with sweet little goldfish darting about in it.

Oh, bliss! Oh, sheer and perfect bliss! If thereís one thing I love to do, itís stretch out along the side of a fish pond in the sun and idly dip in a paw to try toó

No. No time to think about that now! I went to meet the owner. He was washing up. We had a conversation. It went like this:

Him:Hello, puss. Where did you spring from?

Me:Purr, purr. (Iím slinking round his legs to let him know Iím feeling peckish.)

Him:Hungry? Fancy some leftover fish?

Me:Purrrrrrrrrrrr!

Him (putting down a dish):There you go. Finish that lot and youíll feel a whole lot better.

Me:Chomp, chomp, chomp.

I thought I was in heaven. I ate the fish. (A little too much dill, I thought. But, hey! not everyoneís a master chef.) I had a nap on one of his windowsills. When it got chilly I slipped back into the house through one of the unlatched windows, and when I felt like a snack at lunch time, I set off for the little pond.

Shame! He was out there, hanging out the washing.

Well, never mind. Fish fresh as that will keep. I took a turn round the side of the house and had a poke through the recycling bins.

Half a fish finger. Delish-lish. Just like the song. Yes, Iíd found The Perfect Home.

Or so I thought. But then, at half-past three, my world caved in. There was a stampede up the garden path. A pack of carrot-topped hooligans, all shrieking and yelling.

ĎLook! On the windowsill! A cat!í

ĎDaddyís got us a real pet! Not just those stupid goldfish, but a real live cat!í

ĎBagsy I cuddle it first.í

ĎNo! Iím the one who saw it, so I get first cuddle.í

ĎThen me.í

ĎThen me.í

ĎThen me!í

ĎWell, if Iím last, I want to be the one to take it in to school for the ďMy Wonderful PetĒ show!í

Nice to be wanted, of course. But really, the noise was horrendous! While they were crowding round, I counted them. Five carrot-tops! Five horrid noisy children all reaching out to grab me. I tell you, it took a good bit of hissing and spitting to get off that windowsill.

Didnít they change their tune then!

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: img_11]

ĎThe horrid thing!í

ĎItís scratched me! Look! Iím actuallybleeding!í

ĎIt must bewild.í

ĎWhoíd want to takethat into school? Iíd rather show everyone our lovely goldfish.í

ĎWe didnít really want a new pet anyway.í

ĎWell, we certainly didnít wantthis one.í

A good thing too, because I wasnít staying. The Perfect Home, indeed! I donít think so.

11

ĎCome Home So I Can Strangle You.í

I took a nap in next doorís garage. (OK, OK! So twist my tail! I left a dent in the fancy new hat some man was hiding in there till his wifeís birthday. But anybody napping in there would have used it as a little bed. That hat wascomfy. It wasnítmy fault that the ribbon round the brim got tangled and torn. All I was trying to do was brush off the cat hairs that I shed on it while I was having my snooze.)

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: img_12]

I woke upstarving. Back at my old house, when I was hungry I simply parked myself on my big furry bottom somewhere really inconvenient andstared at Ellieís mum till she remembered to feed me.

Sadly, that does not work with strangers who are hurrying by. I had to keep stepping in their path and wrapping myself round their ankles (the way I used to do with Ellie when I was getting bored).

But strangers are soclumsy. I got tripped over and stumbled into several times. And snarled at quite a lot. Some people were quiterude. In the end I gave up and went to check what had been thrown out by the nearest pizza place. (Donít youadore pepperoni?)

Just as I came round the corner, who should I see stamping past in a tantrum but Mr Iíve-Been-Sent-Out-To-Look-For-Our-Cat.

I didnít fancy being carried back by him, so I slunk out of sight.

ĎPuss, puss!í I heard him calling to the wind. ĎTuff! Tuff-eee! Whereare you? Come home so I can strangle you! Come home so I can boil you in oil! Tuff-eee! Do you know whatís on telly at this very moment? Yes! The Best-Ever Penalty Shoot-out Show! And am I sitting watching it? No, I am not! Partly because the television isruined. And partly because Iíve been sent out to find you! So come home, Tuffy! Puss, puss, puss! Come home so I can spoil your life the same way that you spoil mine!í

I ask a simple question. If you heard that, wouldyou be stupid enough to pad out from the shadows and show yourself?

No, you would not.

I wouldnít, either. All thoughts of going home had vanished once again, so I turned round and slunk off fast the other way.

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: img_13]

12

I Did Not Kill It!

(Here is a warning. Those of you who areĎof a nervous dispositioní Ė and that means wet Ė had better skip this chapter. It isnít nice.)

I tramped the streets. The hours went by. And I got hungrier.

And hungrier.

And hungrier.

Everyoneís wheelie bin lids were fixed on tight. I went through one garden after another on the prowl, hoping that someone had at least put out a dish of milk for a hedgehog to keep me going.

But there was nothing.

I made my way right to the end of a row of gardens.

Nothing.

Sighing, I made my way back again. Thatís when I saw it lying on the grass under my feet.

A baby bird.

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: img_14]

I did not kill it! Understand? It must have fallen out of its nest after I went by the first time. (Possibly from fright.)

But it was dead. (And fresh.)

And I was hungry.

I gave the thing a little poke.ĎCome on!í I told myself. ĎDonít be somimsy! Itís meat. Itís fresh. Itís nice and traditional. And you are very hungry.í

Alas! Nowherenear hungry enough, my friend. Nowherenear hungry enough.

Bella and Tiger and Snowball were right.

Eeee-yuk!!!

13

ĎA Photo of My Beautiful Tuffy!í

So there I was, still trying to persuade myself that baby bird would taste as good as pepperoni, when a shadow fell over me.

A woman had come out of the house.

I stared at her. She stared at me. I stared at her because sheíd done her hair so that it looked like one of those whippy ice-cream cones.

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: img_15]

She stared at me as though she thought I were a gift from heaven.

ĎA cat!í She looked at the sad little mess between my paws. ĎAnd clearly a hunter! Are you a mouser too? Because thereís a rustling somewhere near my kitchen door. I think I might havevermin!í

You could tell she was fussy just from the way she saidĎvermin!í. But I was tired and hungry, so I thought Ė why not? Some cats do earn their keep. I could give it a go.

And I was right to try. Because life there could have been perfect bliss! Ms Whippy thought that she was keeping me hungry enough to eat mice, but what she didnít know is that Iím good with kitchen bins. Every time she went out, Iíd step on the pedal, and when the lid flew up Iíd reach inside to hook out some half-eaten chop, or the last of the chicken. After Iíd had enough, Iíd carry the leftovers out into the garden and kick them out of sight behind her precious lupins.

She didnít get suspicious because the rustling stopped. (It only came from some dried leaf trapped under the kitchen door. I poked that out and Ė hey, presto! Ė all the vermin gone.)

For three nights in a row, she sang my praises.ĎYouíre brilliant, Pusskins. I could do with a mouser like you in my villa in Spain.í

Her villa in Spain? Was she amillionaire?

Youíd think so. First she bought me a fancy jewelled collar and a swansdown cat bed. (Purrrrr!) Then she bought me a classy water bowl. On the next day she even took me into town to have my photo taken. Yes! None of that cheap, ĎHold still while I fetch my mobile!í stuff that Iíd been used to back in Ellieís house. Ms Whippy took me into town to get a proper studio portrait! The photographer sat me on a cushion and asked me most politely to face the camera. ĎPusskins! Please look this way! Yes! Thatís much better.í

A dozen different shots were taken, and I must say they came out very nicely indeed. (Much better than those horridĎlost catí posters.) I was so pleased I thought Iíd take one round to show my old ungrateful family what they were missing. I picked one up by the corner and (trying not to drool) carried it carefully across town to my old home.

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: img_16]

Ellie was sitting on the doorstep, weeping bitterly.

I shot behind a bush.

ĎOh, Tuffy!í she was whimpering. ĎOh, Tuffy! Youíve been away so long! And how I miss you! Oh, Tuffy, I wish youíd come home!í

Home? Ha! Excuse me, but I have a new home now. A much, much better home where I dine on the finest foods, and people truly know how beautiful I am.

I spat the photograph out of my mouth and watched it slither in the breeze up the path towards Ellie.

Curious, she picked it up, dashing away her tears so she could peer at it more closely. Then she began to wail.ĎOh, no! A photo of my beautiful Tuffy! And itís not one Iíve ever seen before!í

Too true, it wasnít. It was far smarter and glossier than any photo theyíd ever had of me.

Ellie rushed into the house. I jumped up out of sight behind the laurel bush and peered in through the window. Ellie was waving the photo in her parentsí faces. ĎMum! Dad! Look! Tuffy must have been catnapped! See? The catnappers have sent a photograph to prove it.í

I will admit that Ellieís mum looked most concerned. But Mr Donít-Expect-Me-To-Put-My-Hand-In-My-Pocket just muttered something most unpleasant along the lines of,ĎIf that pesky catís worth even a handful of loose change, Iím a banana.í If Iíd not been in hiding, Iíd have spat at him. Right in the face.

Ellie burst into tears again, and I jumped down. Donít you feel sorry for Ellie! Donít you dare! Itís her own fault! She should have thought about how much she would miss her precious Tuffy before she started mooning over soppy kittens on the computer screen.

So donít you get your knickers in a twist worrying about Ellie.

You worry aboutme.

Thatís whatI did. I suddenly thought, If I donít get back quickly, fussy Ms Whippy will have emptied the pedal bin before Iíve had time to rescue my supper.

So I hurried off.

14

Nightmare Stuff!

Ms Whippy talked a lot on the phone to her friends about her villa in Spain. It soundedhorrible. Iíd find the weather far too hot, I am not overly fond of garlic, and I hate walking on tiles because they make my claws click.

Also, why would I care about her lovely private pool? Iím not a swimming cat. No, every time I heard her talk about that villa of hers, I shuddered quietly and thought how glad I was that I live here.

Thatís why finding the papers was such a shock.

I wasnítsnooping. Itís just a well-known fact that, if there is a bit of paper lying on a table, thatís what a cat will sit on.

Even if itís as small as a bus ticket, thatís where weíll sit.

And this paper was full-size. I sat on it for quite a while. (OK, OK! So dip my paws in soap suds! I had been trying to spread the leftovers of my supper out a little bit behind her lupins and my paws were still chickeny. I made a mess.)

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: img_17]

Thatís why I glanced down at the paper I was sitting on Ė to see if there were any more tiny scraps of chicken that had dried enough to be flicked onto the floor.

Thatís when I saw the word PASSPORT.

I looked a little closer and saw PET.

I lifted my bum and stepped back so that I could read the whole thing. TWENTY-FOUR-HOUR PET PASSPORT APPLICATION.

Aha! The truth was out! Ms Whippy hadnít taken me to get a photo simply because of my good looks. She wanted it for a passport so she could take me to her villa in Spain to be a mouser there!

I read the small print. It was nightmare stuff! First, there was a rule about carrying a letter from the vet that proved your pet was up-to-date with injections. (Injections! In case you live on Mars, Iíll have you know that that means needles. Not my favourite things. And vets! Not my favourite people.)

Then came a rule about the size of the wire cage.ĎCageí, you notice. Not Ďcomfy basketí or Ďcosy boxí. Wire cage!

There was a bit about how long your pet would spend in the baggage hold. The baggage hold! Like some old suitcase!

There was a rule about the photo of your pet having to be full-face.

A full-face photograph? Well, didnít all that sweet-talking, ĎPusskins, please look this way. Yes, thatís much better,í sound a bit different now!

And then I read the last line, just above Ms Whippyís flowery signature.

The date of travel.

5th May, sheíd written.

5th May? I looked up at the calendar.

It was the 4th!

15

A Blur of Fur

Ever seen a tornado?

Even if the answerís yes, youíve not seen anything as fast as me getting out of that house. I was arocket. I was a blur of fur that shot through that open window and up the garden path in less than half a blink. I moved so fast that I looked back to see myself pretty well still leaping out.

That was my big mistake. I should have kept my eyes ahead because, before I could even catch my breath, I felt myself being snatched up and heard a manís voice. ĎAha! Trying to make a getaway, are you, Pusskins? Well, tough luck! Gotcha!í

I swivelled my head round to look. Yee-ow! The man was dressed in one of those short white coats our vet wears at her surgery.

I wriggled frantically, but all he did was hold me even more tightly.ĎStop struggling, Pusskins! No point in my driving all the way here for a special home pick-up if my patient has fled.í

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: img_18]

Patient? Victim, more like! Iíve had my shots already! I donít need any more. So I kept struggling madly. I scratched. I hissed. I yowled. I put up a tremendous fight. But this guy was clearly a master at hanging onto squirming animals. Before I even realized what was happening, heíd carried me round to Ms Whippyís suntrap patio, and used his teeth to pull a towel down from her rotary washing line to wrap me up in it.

Me! Held fast in a roll of fluffy pink! I looked like a struggling sausage.

Small wonder I hate vets. Theyíll get you every time. I bet they even take classes in rolling harmless little pussy cats up in old towels so they can shove pills down their throats and stick needles into them.

He carried me back to the front of the house and rang the bell. Ms Whippy must have torn herself away from packing all her fancy clothes because she came to the door.

My captor held me up.ĎYour catís a smart one. He was trying to get away.í

Ms Whippy clasped her hands under her chin.ĎOh, no!í she said. ĎThank heavens you stopped him. If he doesnít have his shots we canít go, and the flight is tomorrow.í

ĎNo problem,í smarmed our most unwelcome visitor. ĎIíll have him back to you tonight with all the paperwork you need.í

I tried to tell them I hadhad my shots. All of them. Way back in March. But it came out as one enormous yowl.

And then a ghastly thing happened.

Ms Whippy leaned forward suddenly and kissed me on the nose.

Me! Tuffy! On the nose! A sloppy kiss!

Only one word for that.ĎYee-uk!í

16

No Hope of Rescue. None.

Whistling cheerfully, the vet carried me back down to his van and unfurled me out of the fluffy pink towel into a cage. He dumped the cage down on the passenger seat.

So boil me in bunny juice. I hissed and spat.

ĎTemper, temper,í he said reprovingly.

We drove a mile or two and then his mobile rang. The vet pulled off the road and rang the number back. I only heard his side of the conversation.ĎHi, Arif. Whatís the problem?í

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: img_19]

Arif must have explained because the next words were,ĎYou need a cat?í

Excuse me? Was he talking to a madman? Who on earthneeds a cat? I mean, we donít do anything useful. We cost a lot to feed. We ruin the furniture. We do exactly what we want.

I ask the question again. Whoneeds a cat?

But clearly this Arif did, because when I tuned in again it was to hear the vet ringing Ms Whippy to check she didnít mind if he lent me to some other vet he knew. ĎItís only for half an hour, and I must say your Pusskins would be perfect for the job.í

Hear that?ĎPerfectí.

Obviously Ms Whippy agreed. So I admit that, by the time we met Arif somewhere around the park five minutes later, my head was already swelling.

ĎWatch him!í the vet warned as he handed my cage to Arif. ĎHeís in the foulest mood. But heís the only cat booked into the surgery this evening. I have to give him all his shots tonight, so he can fly to Spain tomorrow.í

ĎIf the plane gets off the ground!í

I didnít get the joke, but they still shared a laugh and then the vet climbed back in his van. ĎBe careful,í he warned Arif, just before driving off. ĎThat cat ishorribly fierce so, whatever you do, donít let anyone open his cage!í

Oh, thanks a bunch! What happened to my beingĎperfectí, I wondered as we set off down the street. I canít say that Arif was the most considerate cat-cage carrier. He swung it till I was slipping from side to side like someone on board a ship in a gale. I paid him out by spitting through the bars and reaching out a paw to pull so many woollen threads out of his fancy jumper that I was practically hidden behind the tangles.

But my heart wasnít in it. I wasmiserable. You know me. I am not one to wallow in despair and live my life in fear of what might lie round the next corner. But I admit that I was feeling reallyglum. I had set off with such high hopes: a better life, a nicer home and more appreciative company. People who recognized my true worth. People who saw me for the handsome, valiant, resourceful cat I am.

Now look at me. Stuck in a cage. Halfway to getting a heap of horrid injections I didnít need, then lent out for all the world as if I were some rusty loft ladder, or a set of car jump leads.

Not to mention the insults. Ellie had never in all her life called meĎhorribly fierceí or Ďin the foulest moodí. (She called me Ďspiritedí instead.) Sheíd never lent me out, or swung me in a cage, or wrapped me up like a sausage in a fluffy pink towel. Or threatened to take me off to Spain for ever, far away from my old friends.

My friends! Dear Tiger! Fun-loving Bella! Sweet Snowball! Where would they be right now?

Mucking about, no doubt, as happily as usual on Acacia Avenue.

Having a good laugh.

Without me.

Oh, how I wished Iíd never got all huffy and run away! Why had I let that grumpy Mr Glad-To-See-The-Back-Of-That-Cat drive me away? How silly of me to have allowed myself to become jealous of that tiny fluff-ball Tinkerbell, and even that tiny human baby.

A baby! Why, the sweet little poppet had probably not been laughing at me at all. She had probably been laughingwith me.

That is so different.

I had been so wrong! And I had nobody to blame but myself and my own foolishness. And now there was no hope of rescue. None.

17

ĎHavenít You Heard?í

Suddenly, through the tangles of unthreaded wool covering half the cage, I thought I saw somewhere I recognized.

Yes! Mrs Patelís grocery shop. (Shehates me napping on her vegetables.) Arif kept walking and I thought I recognized the pizza parlour. (No need to ask. My orderís pepperoni.) And then I reckoned that we must be getting near to Ellieís school because I saw the crossing guard. (Since that fur fight in the playground, sheís tried to shoo me off each time weíve met.)

Behind me, I heard voices. Children were gathering to cross the road, all chatting merrily.

ĎWhatís in that box youíre carrying?í

ĎThatís Harry, my stick insect. Whatís in your jar?í

ĎBertha, my beetle.í

ĎI saw George bringing his rabbit.í

ĎSurina is bringing her mice.í

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: img_20]

My heart leaped. Thursday!ĎMy Wonderful Pet Showí evening. So maybe Ellie would be walking along the street. I could yowl really loud, and maybe she would recognize my voice. I might be rescued after all!

Almost at once my hopes were dashed. The very next thing I heard was,ĎIsnít it a shame about poor Ellie?í

ĎPoor Ellie? Why? Isnít she coming tonight?í

ĎNo. Havenít you heard? Her petís been catnapped.í

ĎWho,Tuffy? That wonderful cat she used to talk about all day?í

ĎYes, thatís the one.í

ĎSobeautiful, she told us.í

ĎAndstrong.í

ĎAndclever.í

ĎShe misses him so much! Sheís spending all her pocket money on ďlost catĒ flyers, and hands them out everywhere she goes.í

ĎPerhaps sheíll come tonight so she can give a flyer to everyone in the audience.í

ĎMaybe she will. But I donít think so. How could she bear to watch us all walking out of the hall so happily with our own pets? Surely she canít do that? Not even for her most beloved Tuffy!í

ĎPoor Ellie. Oh, poor Ellie!í

My heart sank in my boots. If Ellie couldnít bear to come, then it would be Ďpoor Tuffyí too!

18

All the Usual Rubbish

The children all rushed off into the school. Then, through the tangles of woolly bits, I saw Ellieís head teacher. She was hurrying out to greet Arif.

ĎThere you are! I was just getting worried. Everyoneís here, with their pets. Iíve even brought my parrot Gregory to be part of the display. And all the children are keen to listen to your little talk about how important it is to care for animals properly.í

Yes, I thought bitterly. Care for themproperly. Not swing them about in a cage.

Arif only grinned.ĎSorry,í he said. ĎIt took a bit of time to lug this great big lump all the way from the park.í

Did you hear that?ĎGreat big lumpí. Nice!

The head teacher was in too much of a hurry to bother to peer through the strands of tangled wool and take a look at me. So we went into the school hall together. Arif the Insensitive, Ellieís parrot-loving head teacher. And me.

Arif dumped my cage on the table, beside a few other pets. I took a look along the line. Pathetic! A couple of scaredy-baby mice who cowered in their cage. (I onlylooked at them. I didnot pretend to grab.) A bowl of brainless fish scooped out of the garden pond by that rough carrot-top gang. (The boy whoíd tried to catch me was still sucking his scratches, I was glad to see.) A rabbit so old it was nearly dead. Gregory the Parrot. (At least, I guessed it was him. His cage was covered with a cloth.) A guinea pig or two. A snake. A family of hamsters. Some stupid dog that wasnít even half my size. Two whimpering gerbils.

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: img_21]

All the usual rubbish.

Well, I consoled myself, at least Iím bound to be Star of the Show. After all, Arif was giving the talk and heíd broughtme. He must have thought that cats were something special.

And then Arif started, lifting up each cage and bowl and box in turn along the line. He praised the fish:ĎNobodyís overfed these so theyíre in quite splendid condition.í He cooed over the gerbils: ĎLovely cuddly things, but you must handle them gently.í Dogs: ĎIt is so important to train them properly.í

Bleh, bleh, bleh. On and on and on about how to care for your pets. (Try this, Arif! Donít swing them in a cage!) His talk was so, soboring. All that stuff youíve heard a million times before about keeping the cage clean, and making sure all these pathetic pets who canít look after themselves have nice, fresh water. (Tip from myself. Save all the trouble. Get a cat!)

I could haveyowled. But I was determined not to make a single kittenish mew in case he got annoyed and shoved me under the table, out of sight. You see, I hoped that, even though Ellie wasnít there, when Arif finally got to my cage and pulled off the tangles of wool, someone else from Acacia Avenue would recognize me and shout, ĎCatnapper! That is Ellieís cat! You have to give him back!í

Then Iíd be rescued.

Atlast it was my turn. Arif tugged all the bits of wool away from the wires of the cage so everyone could see me better. And then he held me up.

ĎSee?í he said, shaking his head in sorrow. ĎSee what can happen if you arenít careful?í

I blinked. Sorry?

He kept on.ĎTake this cat here. Heís obviously been brought up in a good family. His fur is thick and glossy. His eyes are bright. His paws are in excellent condition.í

Well, thank you, Arif. Thank you for pointing out the obvious. I am a fine, fine specimen of a cat.

ĎBut,í said Arif.

Excuse me?But?

I turned my head to stare. Would you believe it? He had the nerve to carry on.

ĎBut this pet is theperfect example of what we all want to avoid in our pets. This cat has been allowed to let himself go. Recently he has been horribly,horribly overfed, and doesnít it show?í

He swung the cage around so that everyone could gawp at me! Cheek! I know Ms Whippyís pedal bin is a fine cornucopia of splendid grub; but surely no cat can put on that much weight in a few days†.†.†.

Surely†.†.†.

You wouldnít think so to listen to Arif. He was still swinging me about. ĎLook at thesize of him! Just look! No doubt this feline fellow has always teetered on the edge of getting tubby. But take a proper look. The cat inside this cage is a dire warning of what can happen if you donít keep tabs on your petís diet. I hate to say it, but this cat is downrightfat.í

19

Reprise

OK, OK! So put on your crossest face and shake a finger at me. I scratched him. Very hard and deep. While he was busy going on and on about how fat Iíd let myself become, and how Iíd get an earlyheart attack if I did not slim down to what Iíd been before, I sneaked my paw through the cage bars and raked my claws right round his wrist.

That was a laugh. He yelled his head off.ĎYee-oww, yee-oww, yee-oww, yee-oww, yee-oww!í

He dropped the cage. Thathurt. I bumped my head on the bars. So naturally I did exactly what you would have done.

Scratched him again. On the ankle.

This time he yelled even louder.

ĎYee-oww! Yee-oww! Yee-oww! Yee-oww! Yee-oww!í

And guess what happened next. He woke up Gregory the Parrot! Donít blameme. How was it my fault Gregory got confused under his cover and just assumed he was at home again and we had started on a quick reprise of our wonderfulWild Catsí Chorus?

So Gregory started up, singing all four parts, all at once.

Loudly.Very loudly. So loudly that some of the more unmusical people in the hall actually put down their juice and biscuits and clapped their hands over their ears. Beside me, the hamsters started burying their heads in their bedding, trying to block out the noise. The dog was whining and drooling all at the same time. Even the snake looked rather as if it was wincing.

I thought I might as well join in and sing along. After all, it is my favourite song.

And thatís when one or two of the audience appeared to crack, grabbing their coats to rush out. (I call that veryrude.) Gregory kept up the singing. In fact, he was now showing off, singing eight parts at once. And thatís when even the people who had pets in the show began to block their ears with their fingers and rush towards the stage to snatch up their cages or boxes or fish bowl. There was a small commotion at the door because two people in the hallway were blocking everyoneís path, trying to slow up thepeople who were hurrying out long enough to hand them a flyer.

And one of them was Ellie! Yes! Ellie! I heard her calling as the crowd forced their way past.ĎPlease!í she kept saying. ĎPlease take away with you one of these photos of my precious, lovely lost pet so you can call me if you find him.í

I didnít even crane my neck to check it was my picture that was being handed out, and not a photo of some brand-new fluff-ball kitten sheíd been given called Sugar-Pie or Pansy-Wansy. I simply trusted her and saw my chance, threw back my head and yowled even louder.

ĎYEE-OWW, YEE-OWW, YEE-OWW, YEE-OWW, YEE-OWW. Yowwwwwl, yoWWWWL.í

Ellie knows that song! Sheís heard it often enough on moonlit nights. In any case, she recognized my voice. Everyone else was running the other way, but suddenly Ellie was pushing against them, scattering flyers all over as she ran.

[ ŗūÚŤŪÍŗ: img_22]

Straight towards me.

ĎTuffy! Oh, Tuffy! Iíve found you at last! Thank heavens!í

I purred at her like mad.

She reached for the latch to my cage, but before she could open it, Arif stopped sucking his hand and brought it down on hers.ĎStop! Donít let this cat out. Heísvicious.í

Ellie stared.ĎHe is not vicious! I should know. Heísmine.í

Arif shook his head.ĎNo, no. Youíre wrong. Lots of cats look alike, and this one canít be yours. He is called Pusskins and heís on the way to have his shots before he goes to Spain.í

Ellie laid her hand on the cage.ĎNo, he is not,í she said. ĎHe is called Tuffy and heís had his shots already. And he belongs to me and heís so clever he was singing his favourite song just so Iíd recognize him.í

ĎHeís not yours!í

ĎYes, he is. And I canprove it.í