The Killer Cat Runs Away

15

A Blur of Fur

Ever seen a tornado?

Even if the answer’s yes, you’ve not seen anything as fast as me getting out of that house. I was a rocket. 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 man’s voice. ‘Aha! Trying to make a getaway, are you, Pusskins? Well, tough luck! Gotcha!’

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. ‘Stop struggling, Pusskins! No point in my driving all the way here for a special home pick-up if my patient has fled.’

Patient? Victim, more like! I’ve had my shots already! I don’t 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, he’d carried me round to Ms Whippy’s 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. They’ll 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. ‘Your cat’s a smart one. He was trying to get away.’

Ms Whippy clasped her hands under her chin. ‘Oh, no!’ she said. ‘Thank heavens you stopped him. If he doesn’t have his shots we can’t go, and the flight is tomorrow.’

‘No problem,’ smarmed our most unwelcome visitor. ‘I’ll have him back to you tonight with all the paperwork you need.’

I tried to tell them I had had 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. ‘Yee-uk!’