by Rachel Wells
‘What?’ George’s ears pricked up, he loved gossip.
‘Dustbin has got a girlfriend,’ I said.
‘No way! Oh my goodness, Dustbin who said love was soppy and he didn’t have time for all that, as he had too many mice to catch?’
‘Exactly. But I think he’s met a kindred spirit. Ally, from a nearby street actually, and she sees off the rodents with him.’
‘She sounds like the perfect match for him.’
I nodded, and purred, my boy was pretty perceptive. Now, if only he could teach Pickles that quality, we’d all be alright.
‘I like that Dustbin is happy. Can we visit him soon, and maybe I’ll get to meet Ally from the alley too.’
‘Of course, I’ll take you one day soon, when we don’t have to puppy-sit. I wonder if his relationship with Ally the same as yours and Hana’s.’ I was trying to dig, of course, I was.
‘I am getting to like Pickles a little bit. Especially watching him try to climb trees, it was so funny, he kept trying to grip his front claws, but they slid down, and he ended up on his bottom. The best thing was that he kept trying, which I suppose either shows great character or extreme stupidity, I’m not sure which.’ So he wasn’t giving me anything, as usual.
‘Let’s go for great character, it’s nicer,’ I replied, although I wasn’t sure that was the right answer either.
‘And then when Claire found us in the garden, she was a bit cross, so she took him inside, and he fell asleep straight away, you should have heard how loudly he snores. He sounds like a train.’
‘But you like him?’ I asked.
‘Yes, I like him. A bit anyway.’
This was progress. We snuggled up together, and both fell asleep.
Chapter Eight
‘Oh for goodness’ sake, George, can you stop trying to trip me up,’ Claire snapped, as George followed her around, hanging around her legs too closely and hoping to get some scraps of food she was carrying. But Claire, preparing for the family get-together was stressed enough, without George adding to it.
‘George,’ I hissed. Trying to get him to come over. He bounded over to me.
‘What?’ he asked, looking at me innocently.
‘You know better than to annoy Claire when she’s stressed.’
‘But the food smells so good.’
‘And if we keep out of her way, we’ll get something nice, but for now, we need to let her get on with it.’
‘Claire, how much food do we really need?’ Jonathan asked, coming into the kitchen.
‘I don’t want anyone to go hungry,’ Claire replied.
‘You know it’s a good job I got a promotion; otherwise there’s no way we could afford all this,’ Jonathan moaned.
‘Oh shut up and go and get the drinks ready. Oh, and can you give the cats some food, to keep them out of my way.’
‘Meow!’I objected, I wasn’t in her way, it was all George. But I grinned at George, we were getting food, his annoying ways had worked in both our favour.
Family days were utterly precious, and my heart was full as the doorbell kept going, heralding the arrival of the people we loved.
Polly, Matt, the children and guest of honour Pickles arrived first. The children all crowded round Pickles, which I could tell annoyed George, although he had played with Summer and Toby that morning. Before I had much time to be fussed over by Matt, the door went again and in came, Tomasz, Franceska, Aleksy and Tommy. They made a huge fuss of George and me, which placated George. Tomasz picked Georgia up and cuddled him, Aleksy did the same to me. Franceska gave us both a stroke and Tommy took George out of Tomasz’s arms and ticked his head the way he loved. Before they even got past the hallway, the door went again. Sylvie and Connie came in, Connie make a beeline for Aleksy and Sylvie raising her eyebrows, but not objecting as they went off to the living room hand in hand.
‘Marcus has just gone to get Harold, so they’ll be here any minute. But I have to warn you, Harold said he didn’t sleep so well, so he’s a little moody today.’
‘Don’t worry, I’m sure George will cheer him up.’ George preened at that. He was the only one who could cheer Harold up after all, and I was so glad for anything that made him feel good about himself.
‘Watch what we taught Pickles,’ Henry said, to all of us. We watched. ‘Right, sit,’ Henry commanded. Pickles wagged his tail but didn’t sit. ‘SIT,’ Henry shouted. Pickles didn’t move,
‘You’re not doing it right, do it like this,’ Martha said. ‘Pickles, sit down,’ she commanded in her sweet voice, with a smile. Pickles barked.
‘I can do it,’ Toby said. ‘Pickles sit,’ he shouted. Pickles walked to the other side of the hall.
‘PICKLES, SIT RIGHT NOW!’ Summer shrieked. Pickles sat down, but then so did we all.
‘Well Summer wins the training prize I guess,’ Polly said.
‘No, she’s just the scariest,’ Claire said. ‘Summer, the secret to good puppy training is not to shout at him, he’s a baby, and you could scare him.’ She’d certainly scared me after all. Just as all hell threatened to break loose as Summer didn’t take criticism well, we were once again saved by the doorbell, and Marcus and Harold appeared. George, taking no chances, leapt into Harold’s arms, taking him by surprise.
‘Come in, and let’s get this party started,’ Claire said excitedly as everyone filed to different rooms in the house in a way which showed how used to being here everyone was. Like a proper family.
‘I’m happy to be here but to be honest, it’s getting colder than I like,’ Harold blustered. He loved to have something to complain about. It was September, and it wasn’t as hot as summer but it was hardly cold yet.
‘I can put the heating on for you,’ Claire offered, giving Harold a hug.
‘No, I can’t be doing with that central heating, it kills people,’ Harold said.
Really? Did it?
‘I don’t think it does, Dad,’ Marcus said, steering him to a chair. George was still attached to him. Those two, I thought, fondly.
‘Mark my words, in a few years’ time everyone will be talking about it. It’ll come out that it’s causing that global warming and the ozone layer and the lack of polar bears.’ George licked Harold’s face, he thought he was the cleverest man in the world.
I did sometimes wonder where Harold got his complaints from, and by the looks on the faces of my humans, they did too. Thankfully they all loved him very much.
I was in heaven as I moved from room to room to check on my loved ones. The women were in the kitchen, drinking wine, eating and chatting. The men were all in the living room, with drinks, plates of food and George who hadn’t left Harold’s side sitting together on the chair he was settled in. I had a suspicion they were sharing food, but I was too happy to tell him off. As long as he was having a good time, I would have to accept it. The children, along with Pickles, were upstairs joined by Tommy, who protested he was too old to hang out with the younger ones but actually secretly enjoyed making up games for them to play. What he’d done was to set up an obstacle course for Pickles on the upstairs landing. There was a toy horse jump, a tunnel that Summer used to love when she was little, a hoop which one of them had to hold for him to jump through and a stool for him to climb on and off. Pickles seemed very confused by this and kept getting it wrong.
‘No, Pickles, you don’t sit down in the tunnel,’ Summer who was the bossiest of all the children chided. Even her words didn’t work this time. The problem was that Polly had taught them that if they wanted Pickles to do something, they had to offer a treat as a reward, but they were giving him treats before he did anything. All the treats had gone, and Pickles was none the wiser in how to do an assault course.
‘I know,’ Tommy said. ‘I’ll go and get George, he can show Pickles how it’s done.’
I raised my whiskers, George, hopefully, would be pleased to be given such a role. I waited until Tommy came back upstairs, George wriggling in his arms. He didn’t seem that happy,
actually.
‘Right, George, please can you show Pickles how to do an obstacle course,’ Tommy begged. George came to where I was and sat with his back to the children. Oh dear.
‘What’s wrong?’ I whispered.
‘They ignore me, and now they want me to show the dumb puppy how to do something so basic,’ he hissed back.
‘George, they love you, they pretty much ignored me too, but Pickles is new to them. Perhaps show them how fantastic you are and it might help Pickles too,’ I coaxed, gently.
‘I am fantastic, aren’t I?’
‘You are, son.’
‘Meow,’ George said loudly and he went to join the children. As they cheered him, I saw him preen, and I was happy how easy it was for us all to be friends, or almost friends in any case.
Connie and Aleksy sat on the stairs holding hands and whispering to each other, but the important thing is that they didn’t sneak off into one of the bedrooms, so I didn’t have to worry too much. I jumped onto Aleksy’s lap.
‘Hey, Alfie,’ Aleksy gave me a nice head scratch.
‘I tried to bring Hana, but she didn’t want to come, I think she just wanted some peace and quiet,’ Connie said. I didn’t blame her for staying away, this was not for the faint-hearted, although she normally came with us, she didn’t always. Suddenly Pickles knocked into George, and sent him flying, with caused George to yowl and land on his tail. Then George, showing his balance, fell off the stool and landed on Pickles, who cried out, but seemed unhurt, and the children all shrieked with laughter. George really did seem to be taking Pickles under his wing and he tried to show him calmly exactly how an obstacle course was done.
‘Wow, Pickles actually does follow George,’ Toby said. ‘He’s almost doing it right now!’
George basked in all the praise.
‘Right, children, can you come and eat please.’ Claire’s voice floated up the stairs. Everyone carried on doing what they were doing. ‘NOW,’ she shouted, and we all traipsed downstairs, the children a little reluctantly, I was far keener.
George and I had a bowl of fat pilchards awaiting us, and Pickles tried to muscle in.
‘Not for you,’ Matt said, scooping him up, thankfully. I was a very tolerant cat, but no one came between me and my pilchards. Pickles let out a cry. ‘No, Pickles, you need to eat only puppy food, mate, I’m afraid. You don’t want to get fat do you?’
Pickles looked as if he would very much like to get fat.
After eating, the children went out into the garden, Pickles was fast asleep in his bed, and George and I were satisfyingly full after our lovely meal. Harold was asleep in the living room, snoring contentedly. I felt my heart swell with love for all my friends and I wished it could always be like this.
Chapter Nine
I went through my mental checklist alone in the garden before Pickles would inevitably break through the cat flap again. It was October already, time was passing, and winter was creeping ever closer. I did prefer the warm weather, not least because I had an old leg injury, which flared up more in the winter. Anyway, I wasn’t going to dwell on that. I was going to make the best of things, which is what this cat always did.
My chaperoning skills were going to be essential today because George hadn’t been able to visit Hana for a couple of days. Knowing how happy they made each other, I knew he needed to do that. After Claire dropped the children at school, she’d be home most of today, so it wasn’t as if I would be in sole charge of Pickles, thankfully.
Marcus took Harold to somewhere called a ‘Senior Centre’, a place where he could socialise with other old people, most of whom he claimed not to like, so I really had no idea why he went. But with a day to herself, Claire would clean the house, do the laundry, tidy all the children’s rooms, and change all the bedding – it was quite exhausting to watch. When she’d finished that she would then sit down with a well-deserved cup of coffee and her book – and hopefully me, before going to pick the children up from school. It wasn’t easy being a housewife, which I believe is her official job title. It was hard to see how anyone could have an outside job, and look after a house and children once you’d seen Claire in action.
Claire used to love working, she’d had a good job in marketing, but after she had Summer, she lost a bit of her ambition. Then when Toby came to live with us, she felt the children were her priority. It turned out she loved being a mum more than anything, and she was lucky, with Jonathan’s job and the fact she was very sensible with money, she was able to devote herself to doing what she loved. Also, I was unsure how we would cope if Claire and Jonathan both worked as we all needed a lot of taking care of. Not to mention what would happen to Pickles after all. I like to think it was seeing me taking care of those I cared about that made Claire realise it was what she wanted to do. And we were both quite good at it.
Back to my checklist. All my humans were doing well at the moment, I thought, as I ran through them one by one. The children were happy and not arguing with each other, and of course, having Pickles had perked them up the way George had when he first came to live with us. Aleksy and Connie were happy and perhaps the most sensible teenagers the world had ever seen. And the adults were not causing me problems for once. We were all happy and harmonious on Edgar Road, including my extended families in the neighbourhood of course. Even Pickles.
Then there were the cats. Luckily my lovely friends were all fine; having lost Tiger I did fret about the other cats a bit, but they all seemed in good health. Dustbin’s new girlfriend was definitely an interesting turn up for the books. George was coping; even though he still missed Tiger, but we were dealing with that. It would take a lot of time to heal. It became more important to me to understand what was actually going on with Hana and him. It wasn’t just out of noisiness, but concern. Or that’s my story, and I am sticking to it.
Life was calm, and I just crossed my paws that the turmoil of last year was long behind us. Not that having Pickles was particularly calm, but you know what I mean.
The cat flap bashed, and George sprang through it, followed at a more leisurely pace by Pickles.
‘Hello, Alfie,’ he said, as he stood on the grass then he bent down to lick it. He was actually very cute, even his wrinkly face seemed adorable to me now.
‘Pickles, how are you?’ I asked.
‘I am very well. I was a bit sick this morning, but Polly said it was because I wasn’t supposed to eat the children’s breakfast – Henry fed me some off his plate, so he’s in a bit of trouble but how am I to know?’
‘It’s hard, I agree. Pickles, the general rule of thumb is that if it’s in your food bowl, then it’s yours. If it’s not, then it isn’t,’ I explained.
‘No, that seems far too hard to remember.’ His wrinkled face wrinkled even more. ‘I think I’ll just have to take my chances.’
‘See what I mean?’ George hissed. ‘Pickles, show my dad how you climb trees.’
‘Yes, yes, I will.’ We watched as Pickles approached a tree in the garden, and started trying to climb its trunk. It was fruitless, his front legs slid off the bark as soon as he moved them. Then he decided he’d try to jump, but he couldn’t jump very high yet, and landed with a bump. Yet again I had to intervene.
‘Maybe tree climbing isn’t going to be your thing. After all, I’m not keen either,’ I said. George was studying his paws intently.
‘But if I can’t climb a tree then I’ll never be a cat.’
‘Pickles, you’re a puppy who will grow up to be a dog, not a cat,’ I said gently.
‘But cats are best, George said so, so if I do everything he teaches me, I can grow up to be a cat.’ Pickles turned to look at me, his eyes full of hope. What on earth could I say? I turned to look at George.
‘I really need to go and see Hana,’ he said as he ran off.
‘How about we go inside, and I’ll teach you how to have a lovely rest,’ I suggested.
‘Do cats do that?’ he asked.
‘Of course, it�
�s one of the things we do best.’ With no idea what we were getting into with Pickles, I ushered him back through the cat flap and into the house. Thankfully, our sofa was low enough for Pickles to jump on, so I led him there, jumped up and gestured for him to do the same. He wriggled around a bit on the sofa cushion, his little paws padding up and down. Then he chose a spot and licked a cushion before sitting on it. I didn’t really understand dog behaviour, but then I had no experience. Give me a human or a cat any day.
‘So, lie down, and then we can both close our eyes and have a rest. That’s very good cat behaviour.’ I felt guilty for using George’s naughty plan, but then I was quite tired, I’d already done quite a lot of thinking today.
‘OK.’ He lay down, resting his head on his paws and before long he was snoring quite loudly. When I was sure he was asleep, I thought I could steal a few minutes away.
I left through the cat flap, went as fast as I could next door and round to the back of Sylvie’s house. At the back were patio doors. I couldn’t go in, because there was no way George could know I was there, he would kill me. But it wasn’t actually spying, I was only doing what a good parent would do.
I positioned myself in a bush near the doors, and I craned my neck and glanced through. Hana was lying on the floor in a sunny spot, and George was sitting next to her. I could see they were chatting, but of course, I couldn’t hear or see what they were talking about.
This brought back memories. When my first girlfriend Snowball moved in here I used to spend hours by the back door trying to get her attention. She accused me of stalking her once. But in the end, I did get her attention. OK, so it might have involved a near death experience, the fire brigade and a ruined flowerbed but that’s another story.
I tried to move a little closer, trying to balance on the bush to lift me a bit. However, my paw slipped, and I ended up falling through the middle, onto some soft soil. I got up, brushed my fur off, and feeling a little silly I snuck another look. Although George and Hana definitely seemed close, it was still inconclusive. I went home, none the wiser.