Extract from my cat story.
Adventures of a Ginger. Will keep you posted on this development.
Meanwhile a friend's website to browse for doggy treats
http://www.silvercollar.ie/
CURTAINS
AND THE NEWCOMER
As Curtains Doyle rounded the corner of the sitting room on route to his
favourite sunspot he encountered an unusual obstacle. His ginger snout came
nose to nose with something white, soft and furry with pixie ears and blue eyes
and a face not unlike his own, but much smaller.
The ginger cat drew back in
distaste. A kitten! What was this white kitten, with a splash of black and
brown streaks and patches on its face and tail, doing in his hallway?
Behind it,
on all fours, was his owner Eimear, cooing and sighing into the kitten’s ears. Curtains
made a dash at the ball of white fluff and emitted a cry that sent the kitten
catapulting through the air. Then the triumphant Ginger retreated into the
kitchen to consider this latest addition to the Doyle household.
According to Eimear, Curtains
emitted a series of sharp hisses before he leapt onto the kitchen stool and
positioned himself in such a way that he had a bird’s eye view of all comings
and goings into the kitchen.
After a few minutes Eimear
minus kitty appeared around the door frame. She approached the Ginger tomcat
cautiously but was stopped in her tracks by an unmistakable hiss, bared teeth
and a show of sharp claws. Undaunted by this display of discontent the nine
year old crept nearer.
“Curtains. It’s you I love!”
This
flattery, however, made no impression on the outraged Ginger Tom. He repeated
his earlier performance and Eimear was forced to withdraw. So was her brother
Eoin but, in his case, the antics of his regular play mate reduced him to
tears.
“I’m afraid of Curtains!” he
bawled. “He doesn’t like me anymore. It’s that kitten’s fault. Why did we have
to get a kitten anyway?”
“Mum’s idea of company for Curtains.
That kitten will have to go!” declared his big sister.
“Give him time. He might come
around to the idea,” said Mum after listening to their account of the meeting
between the two cats.
Meanwhile Curtains was giving
out his usual recognisable signals that he wanted out, scratching at the
window, meowing loudly.
“Why doesn’t that cat use the
cat –flap? He just loves to have us all running after him,” said Mum.
Curtains
flicked his tail high, ignored these outrageous allegations and refused to descend
from his perch on the windowsill. When Mum finally opened the window the Ginger
Tom leapt with relief onto the driveway and headed for the road.
“What if he doesn’t come back?”
wailed Eoin, watching the cat walk purposefully towards the open gate.
“It’s chicken in a puddle for dinner,” shouted Eimear after the
disappearing tomcat. “He’ll be back! You know how he loves chicken.”
Curtains already knew what was
for dinner. He’d been sniffing the delicious aroma of chicken soaked in garlic
and cream for hours now. This timely reminder took the strut out of his swagger and caused him to waiver in his determination to take a long stroll that might hopefully
be interpreted as a sulk. He sat stock still in the driveway to reconsider his
position.
Perhaps the kitten hadn’t come
to stay. Perhaps it was gone already. He looked wistfully towards the dining
room where Eimear was setting the table for dinner. He wouldn’t leave home just
yet. Not until after dinner anyway.
Curtains was so intent on his
thoughts that he didn’t see Togs Toner, the neighbour’s King Charles spaniel,
sneaking up on him. Togs was about to pounce on the unsuspecting Ginger when the dog found himself mounted by a fully clawed white ball of rage; the kitten scratching furiously at his back and biting into his neck. Before Togs could
dislodge his attacker from behind he felt himself confronted by a huge ginger
paw which gave him a clout in the face. The spaniel let out a high pitched wail
and scampered quickly under the fence and back to his kennel followed by a
flash of ginger.
“Good work, Junior!” declared
Curtains on returning to his side of the fence. But the white ball of fluff lay
inert on the driveway. Curtains nudged the kitten with his snout.
“This won’t do, Junior. No pretending now!”
But the kitten wasn’t
pretending. He was lying face down in the gravel path. Curtains sank his teeth
carefully into the loose flesh around the kitten’s neck and lifted it gently.
Then he headed straight for the cat flap which Junior had so recently
discovered and that he himself only used in emergencies.
“Curtains has killed the
kitten!” wailed Eoin on seeing the cats emerge through the flap. “Bad cat! I
hate Curtains!”
“How did that kitten get outside?” demanded
Mum who was staring down at the lifeless creature that Curtains dropped at her
feet, just as he would do with a dead bird or mouse.
“He ran away!” shouted Eimear from the hallway. “I saw the whole thing from the window. The kitten saved Curtains
from Togs Toner, but it got injured in the fight. Curtains didn’t touch it.”
“The kitten saved Curtains?”
Eoin was wide eyed as he considered this revelation.
“Look! The kitten’s beginning
to move! It’s not dead,” said Mum.
And sure enough the small
creature was beginning to stir. A few moments later, when kitty opened its eyes
it saw itself enveloped in a warm ginger furry paw. A rough tongue was licking
its head and ears. It made a shaky attempt to stand up, and when the kitten collapsed a ginger snout gently raised it up again.
“I think Curtains has got used
to the new kitten already, “declared Eimear.
“Can we keep it now?” asked Eoin.
“What will we call him?”
“Ronaldinho?” suggested Eoin.
“That’s not fair! No footballers’
names!” wailed his sister.
“What about Junior?” said Mum.
Both cats perked up their ears
when they heard this suggestion.
“I think the kitten likes that
name,” said Eoin.
“I think they both do,” said
Eimear.
“And with a name like that our
Curtains can’t complain, now can he?” said Mum.
Certainly not, thought the
Ginger Tom, wallowing in his new position as Topcat.
Copyright with Cathy Leonard 2016
