The Return Of The Killer Cat

8: Sweet little pussy

GO ON, THEN. Snigger. So I looked a bit of a pussy cat, wearing that lacy bonnet. And the doll’s 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 you’ll see why I stayed.

The only problem was the endless yelling from next door.

Tuffee! Tufff-eeee! Where ARE you?’

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

‘The vicar’s still looking,’ she told me sadly. ‘Poor Tuffy! He’s still missing. I hope, wherever he is, he’s warm and dry and comfy and well fed.’

I purred.

She turned back. ‘Oh, Janet! I’m so glad to have you.’

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. ‘You’ve found him!’

I stayed well down in the basket.

Melanie’s kind, but she’s not bright. ‘Who?’

‘Tuffy!’

‘No. That was my own cat yowling. That was Janet.’

‘Janet?’

‘She was a gift.’

I’m glad that Melanie didn’t say ‘A gift from heaven’. That would have made him even more suspicious. As it was, he narrowed his eyes at me.

Disguise! I thought, and simpered in my basket.

The bonnet and nightie obviously confused him a little, but he did have a go. ‘His face looks very like Tuffy’s.’

I purred in a friendly fashion.

‘But Tuffy never made a noise like that.’

(No. Not in your presence, Buster!)

The vicar’s eyes gleamed. ‘Melanie,’ he said. ‘Do you mind if I do one tiny little test to assure myself it’s not Tuffy?’

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.

Nobody’s ever had a test like this.

He scooped me out of the basket.

He held me up.

He looked me in the eyes. (I didn’t blink.)

He said, ‘Nice pussy! Pretty, pretty, pussy!’

He said, ‘Sweet, sweet pussy!’

He said, ‘Who’s a clever little girl pussy, then?’

And all I did was purr.

He put me back in the basket.

‘You’re right,’ he said to Melanie. ‘It isn’t Tuffy And I can’t think why I ever thought it was in the first place.’

Phew!

More cream. More tuna. Here we come!