Saturday 2 April 2022

The Sherlock Saga- Episode 3


Sherlock meets Molly

My potential forever home was awash with festive cheer. Log fire burning in the grate, pine cones scattered around, scents of cinnamon studded oranges, plum pudding, ham on the boil and most especially turkey basting in the oven. A good impression was required so I flicked my injured eye socket in Mum’s direction which sure enough elicited the usual gush of,”Oh My! Oh My! How did that happen?” Beside Mum stood a very tall fellow in his late teens or early twenties who looked like a very soft touch.

“We have to keep it, Mum!”

“What about Molly? What’s she going to make of this?”


At which moment a gigantic four footed critter emerged from the vicinity of the garden, licking its lips and drooling saliva. A monstrous black dog that was non too pleased at my intrusion. She showed her yellowing teeth and snipped and snarled and made as if to pounce. But I am nothing if not dexterous and so I side stepped her advance and gave her tail a swipe with my paw in passing. She immediately set up a din and fled under the table.

“I don’t think she likes the kitten,” said the Longfellow.

“We need to find a vet. That eye needs attention.”

“At Christmas?”

“Somewhere will be open.”


Somewhere was, and somewhere, after a precursory glance at me, suggested the DSPCA.

“He probably has a virus in that eye. It’ll cost you a fortune.” My gender at least was established at last. Not my forever home though.

I was promptly swept up in the Longfellow’s arms and headed pronto somewhere up the mountains to find the animal shelter. Mum had no idea where she was going so we weaved along treacherously narrow roads and negotiated hairpin bends at speed until we arrived at the compound.


I’d heard stuff about that shelter. What with the costs I might incur with my infamous eye, the over crowding, the lack of investment etc I wondered if I was likely even to survive in it. A leap out of the Longfellow’s arms the minute he opened the car door and flight into the nearby forest that was already thickening around us seemed to me a preferable option.


The compound with its high wire fence looked like a high security prison but with no security guard on duty to admit or release prisoners and a big notice saying that all animals had been fostered out for Christmas I was given a reprieve.


The Longfellow whooped with delight and talked about destiny. Mum looked just a little miffed and somewhat doubtful about that but I reckoned that if I could dodge the black monster and refrain from boxing or swiping at it they might hold on to me for a bit, at least until the turkey was dished out.


To be continued... 

Copyright 2022 Cathy Leonard All rights reserved


1 comment:

  1. Such a lucky little fellow! (I'm catching up on the last few days - enjoying every word!)