The Adventures of Catvinkle

by Elliot Perlman

  ‘I can’t tell you. She made me promise.’

  ‘My dear Ula, I’m a dog and your cousin. You can tell me. Perhaps if I know her secrets I can help you solve this problem that your new kitten friend has so generously given you while she stays home by the fire.’

  Ula didn’t know what to do. She was bred to chase fire trucks, which didn’t require as much thinking in a month as she was having to do this week. She was tired, mainly around her head.

  ‘Okay, I’ll tell you the first one of the three secrets but then I’ll have to stop.’

  ‘All right, tell me the first one,’ said Lobbus.

  Ula took a deep breath and said, ‘She only has two secrets.’

  ‘I thought you said she has three?’ said Lobbus.

  ‘Yes, I did. That’s her first secret.’

  ‘What is?’ asked Lobbus.

  ‘That she only has two secrets,’ answered Ula.

  ‘That’s her first secret?’ asked Lobbus in disbelief.

  ‘Yes,’ answered Ula.

  ‘Gee, I would never have guessed that,’ said Lobbus.

  ‘No, of course not, it’s a secret. You mustn’t tell,’ said Ula.

  ‘I promise I won’t tell, not even a kind-hearted llama would I tell,’ said Lobbus. ‘Okay, I’ve got an idea. If Catvinkle will meet with me and discuss the whole Grayston-rubber-ball matter with me then I will help you. But if she won’t meet with me, I say it’s too dangerous for both of us.’

  Ula went back to Mr Sabatini’s house without getting lost, which was one good thing, and without any scary animals chasing her, which was another good thing. She told Catvinkle that her cousin, Lobbus the brave dog Lobbus, would help them to help the children get their ball back, but only if Catvinkle would meet with him.

  But Catvinkle said she would be unable to go and meet Lobbus.

  ‘Why?’ asked Ula.

  ‘Well, first, he’s a dog and, no offence, I can’t be seen talking to dogs because it might get back to the other cats at Kittens Anonymous, and then they would tease me and not talk to me. Second, I need to spend all my spare time practising my baby-shoe dancing.’

  ‘But,’ said Ula, ‘if Lobbus was seen by other dogs talking to you, they might tease him and not talk to him or play with him.’

  ‘Really?’ said Catvinkle. ‘I had no idea dogs could be so catty!’

  ‘So you see, Lobbus would be taking a risk too,’ pleaded Ula.

  ‘Yes,’ said Catvinkle, ‘but he’s brave. The word “brave” is even part of his name, Lobbus the brave dg Lobbus.’

  Just then Catvinkle and Ula heard a voice joining their conversation. The voice had a Russian accent and it said, ‘Yes, but it’s a family name passed down from Lobbus to Lobbus. It’s a mistake to take too much from a name. If, for example, my name were “Rose” I would still smell like a Russian wolfhound, which, of course, is good, especially for a Russian wolfhound.’

  It was Lobbus himself, who had come all the way to Mr Sabatini’s house and sneaked in through the back door to join the conversation.

  ‘Allow me to introduce myself,’ he said. ‘I am Lobbus the brave dog Lobbus. You must be Catvinkle.’ And with old-world charm he gave a very little sniff in the direction of Catvinkle’s tail before briefly offering Catvinkle his tail to sniff.

  ‘I am Catvinkle,’ she said.

  Catvinkle loved her new friend Ula and her musk, but now there were two dogs in her room, which was two more than there had been the day before. What if other cats saw her hanging around with these two dogs? What if there were to be more dogs coming? She was currently outnumbered by dogs in her own room. This had never happened before and Catvinkle had been brought up to be frightened by something like this. Was this part of some doggy trick to trap an innocent cat?

  ‘Ulee, why is he here with us?’ Catvinkle asked, trying not to sound nervous.

  ‘Lobbus, what made you come here? I thought I was going to ask Catvinkle to come and meet you,’ asked Ula of her cousin, Lobbus.

  ‘Why am I here?’ asked Lobbus the brave dog Lobbus, without expecting either of the other two to answer. ‘I’ll tell you why I’m here. I knew from the top of my tail to the claws in my paws that Catvinkle wouldn’t be brave enough to come out and just talk with me about the plan to get the magic ball for the children. And it’s all because I am a dog. You say I am brave. Well, yes, I’m brave. That’s why I came here.’ He turned to Catvinkle. ‘But what of your friend, my cousin, Ula? She is not famous for being brave.’

  ‘No, I’m famous for always having the smell of a wet dog, even when I’m completely dry,’ said Ula.

  ‘My cousin Ula here has a musky smell that you love. All right, you can love it. But what can you do to help her and make her happy in the way that a good friend does? You send her off in the direction of Grayston, a big and scary dog in anyone’s language.’

  ‘But I didn’t know dogs were scared of other dogs when I came up with my plan,’ explained Catvinkle.

  ‘All right, so you didn’t know. But now you know,’ said Lobbus, ‘and nothing changes. Still your plan has Ula going to get the ball from Grayston all by herself. I’m sorry, Ula,’ said Lobbus to Ula, ‘this is unfortunately the way of the cat. I was pretty sure this is what your new friend, Catvinkle, would say and that’s why I came here without waiting for you to report back.’

  ‘But Ulee,’ said Catvinkle, ‘you know I have to practise my you-know-what for the you-know-what competition and I did my part already by thinking hard and coming up with the plan to make the children happy.’

  ‘Forgive me, Catvinkle, but your plan is a terrible plan for Ula. She does most of the work and takes all of the risk,’ said Lobbus.

  ‘But Ulee, you must admit, you like helping people even more than I do,’ implored Catvinkle.

  This last remark made Lobbus a bit angry and he raised his voice because he thought his cousin was being tricked.

  ‘You think you can use her niceness against her? Listen, Catvinkle, I once rode on a flatbed truck for eleven days with an ant-eating echidna all the way to the freezing wastelands of Yakutsk. When we got there the ground was frozen so hard that the echidna had no way of digging into the ground and reaching the ants he needed, and he cried all the way back. For eleven days I sat and listened to that echidna! I had to put my front paw on its back to try to comfort it while it cried for lack of ants. Do you know how prickly is the back of an echidna? Do you know how it feels to have your front paw bouncing up and down on the spiky back of an echidna as the truck goes over bump after bump on the road for eleven days?!’

  Catvinkle turned to Ula and lifted her front paws up in the air in a shrug. ‘I have no idea what your cousin Lobbus is talking about,’ said Catvinkle.

  ‘I think he means that he’s seen a lot in his life as a well-travelled Russian wolfhound and that he isn’t easily tricked. Not that I’m saying you’re trying to trick me. But … are you trying to trick me, Catvinkle?’

  Before she could answer, Lobbus the brave dog Lobbus jumped back into the conversation.

  ‘Catvinkle, don’t try to pull the fur over my eyes,’ said Lobbus, enjoying the freedom from good manners that comes with interrupting.

  ‘I’m not trying to pull the fur over your eyes, Lobbus. I think it just falls that way naturally, especially when you get cross. And I’m not trying to trick you, Ulee. But Lobbus is right, I am a cat and so I do what cats naturally do. I can’t help it. Even the best of us might not be quite as helpful as a wonderful dog like you. You see, the help I could give you if I were to come to scary Grayston’s house is very small. But if I stay here and practise my you-know-what for the you-know-what competition I’ll be giving myself a lot of help – a lot, a lot!’ said Catvinkle.

  Ula was looking sad. Lobbus decided to take her outside for a long walk to try to comfort her.

  They went from the canal on Herring Street, with its beautiful cobblestones and lovely old gable houses all crammed together as though cuddling each o
ther, down to the smaller Lilly Canal.

  ‘I thought she was my friend,’ said Ula.

  Seeing Ula was not yet feeling better, Lobbus took her even further. They walked to the corner of Prince’s Canal and Brewer’s Canal, to the famous Cafe Puppy Land, where dogs had been resting, drinking and snacking since 1642. They let people in there as well but humans got the name wrong, as they so often did, calling it Cafe Papeneiland.

  Inside Cafe Puppy Land were interesting paintings of old Amsterdam on the wooden walls, showing visitors how Amsterdam used to look. But Lobbus suggested they sit outside on the street to better enjoy looking at the view of boats on the canal and at the beautiful green leaves fluttering on the branches of the elm trees.

  An Old English sheepdog came out from the cafe to take their order, but Ula was too mopey to have anything but water.

  ‘I’m not saying she’s not your friend,’ said Lobbus, ‘but she’s a cat. It’s the cats, they can’t help themselves. I think they’re brought up that way – but don’t tell anyone I said that. You, though, Ula, are a wonderful big-hearted dog. Do you still really want to try to help the children?’

  ‘Yes, we have to try. We promised them we would.’

  ‘All right then,’ said Lobbus, ‘I will help you. We will be a team, you and me.’

  ‘And Catvinkle?’ asked Ula with hope in her voice.

  ‘Well, she’s probably done all the work she’s going to do on this plan. Come on, let’s talk and work out a new plan on the way to Grayston’s home. I know you’re probably thinking about your friend Catvinkle. Is she a good friend or a bad friend? Cats can be hard for us to understand. We’re dogs – we shouldn’t feel bad if we don’t understand them. The best thing to do now is to concentrate on getting the magic ball back for the children.’

  The two dogs decided to take a boat along the canal from Cafe Puppy Land all the way to Grayston’s house. While Ula still felt confused about her cat friend, Catvinkle, it did feel good to spend this time with her cousin, Lobbus.

  ‘What’s the first thing to do?’ Lobbus asked Ula.

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Ula.

  ‘The first thing to do is not panic,’ said Lobbus.

  ‘What do you mean “panic”?’ asked Ula.

  ‘Okay,’ said Lobbus, ‘you know when you’re so frightened that your thoughts go round and round in a circle as though they had tails, and each thought wants to chase the tail of the thought up ahead, but the thoughts never come up with anything except reminders of how scared you are?’

  ‘Yes, I know that feeling very well,’ said Ula.

  ‘That’s panic, Ula, and we mustn’t do it. No good can come from it. Here’s what we do to stop that horrible panicky feeling. What I’m about to tell you is a strategy that’s been handed down from one Lobbus to another over many generations. Are you ready to learn Lobbus’s famous panic-stopping strategy, dear cousin Ula?’

  ‘I think I am,’ said Ula.

  ‘Okay, listen carefully. To stop panic we have to think of all the little steps we have to take, one at a time, in order to do whatever it is we’re trying to do when we hear the galloping hooves of panic chasing after us. Think of the steps but just one at a time. Never more than one at a time. Panic hates it when you’re concentrating on something else. So if ever you’re starting to panic, always remember your cousin Lobbus saying, “one at a time”. Imagine you’re walking through a forest and looking at the leaves, not the trees.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ asked Ula.

  ‘Imagine yourself walking into a forest. Are you imagining, Ula?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Ula, closing her eyes.

  ‘Now maybe you’re scared, maybe you feel panic coming on. It’s galloping after you. Galumph! Galumph! It’s getting louder and closer. What should you do? Don’t look at all the trees ahead of you, because if you looked at all the trees ahead of you you’d think, “There are too many trees ahead of me and I’ll never get out of here.” So you don’t do that. You just look at one leaf then another leaf, then another leaf, and you keep doing this, leaf after leaf, until you’re out of the forest.’

  ‘That sounds like a good idea,’ said Ula. ‘One at a time, just think of the leaves, one at a time.’

  ‘That’s good, Ula. I think you’ve got it. But if you do feel like panicking when you see the big scary grey dog Grayston,’ said Lobbus, ‘remember, I’ll be with you, and remember, also, I’m your older cousin so I’m the leader. I start first. You can’t start panicking until I’m finished, and I might never finish panicking. And if I don’t ever finish, you can never start. Never!’

  Finally they arrived at the house of Grayston. He was widely known as a big scary grey dog because he was a big scary grey dog. It was said his bark was as loud as a lion’s roar and could be heard up to five kilometres away from his snout. But this had never really been properly tested because it would have taken someone to make him bark and someone else to stand five kilometres away at exactly the same time. While lots of animals had volunteered to stand five kilometres away, no one could be found to be the one to make him bark. Nevertheless, the power of Grayston’s scary bark was widely accepted by all the animals who knew him and by many who didn’t.

  Ula was very scared and Lobbus the brave dog Lobbus was pretty scared too.

  But Lobbus had a plan. Ula would go around the side of the old grey house and see if she could see the ball though a gap in the fence, while Lobbus would try to negotiate with Grayston for the ball to be returned.

  Ula sneaked around the side as quietly as an excitable Dalmatian could. She could see a secret garden hidden from the street. It was much larger than anyone looking from outside would have imagined and very beautiful. Surrounding the lush green grass were thickly branched olive trees, tall green spruce trees and several one-hundred-year-old wisteria bushes, some with blue-violet flowers, some with white flowers and some with purple flowers. In the centre of it all was a small pond with very smooth stones at the bottom and a sculpture of a prancing horse at one end.

  Wow, thought Ula, so this is where you get to live if you’re scary!

  Meanwhile, at the front garden, Lobbus was offering some introductory barks in Grayston’s direction.

  ‘Excuse me, you are Mr Grayston, the big scary grey dog?’ asked Lobbus the brave dog Lobbus, trying to be politely unafraid.

  ‘Some say I’m scary. Who are you?’ said Grayston, coming to the fence to talk to Lobbus.

  ‘My name is Lobbus the brave dog Lobbus. I would offer you my tail to sniff but, as you can see, the fence makes this an impossibility. Perhaps you’ve heard of me.’

  ‘No, never. Why should I have heard of you? I’ve never heard of you,’ said Grayston, unimpressed.

  ‘Really? I’m quite well known in Vladivostok and Yakutsk and in many other places too. I thought a dog of the world such as yourself – a dog with such an obvious interest in current events, like, say, the recent news of a missing rubber ball that came to someone it didn’t belong to – might have heard of me.’

  ‘Well, you’re wrong. I’ve never heard of you.’

  ‘Now that you have heard of me,’ said Lobbus, ‘I thought you might enjoy negotiating with me. Do you enjoy negotiating?’

  ‘I don’t know what that is. Anyway, what are you doing at my fence? Don’t you know my house is possibly haunted and that I’m very, very scary?’ asked Grayston.

  ‘Oh yes, I know that, which is why I thought, “Poor Grayston, he probably never gets to negotiate with anyone and he’s missing out on so much fun.”’

  ‘What’s negotiating, again?’ asked Grayston, a little embarrassed that he didn’t know what the word meant.

  Lobbus sensed that Grayston was embarrassed and so he asked, ‘Is “negotiating” one of those words that you used to understand perfectly but, because you’re tired and possibly hungry, its meaning now suddenly escapes you, like a ball that has rolled under a fence and has escaped its rightful owners?’

  ‘Yes,’
said Grayston, ‘it is one of those words.’

  ‘Oh, I see,’ said Lobbus. ‘Allow me to remind you what negotiating is. Here’s how negotiating works. You’ll love it! We choose something – like a clear rubber ball with colours that sparkle when it’s bounced – and we go back and forth in a conversation offering each other things until we both end up with something we want. I might get the rubber ball and you might get something else that you want.’

  ‘But I’ve got everything I want,’ said Grayston.

  ‘No, you don’t have everything you want. I know something you want that you don’t have, and I could get it for you.’

  ‘What is it?’ asked Grayston, starting to show interest in the negotiation.

  ‘Oh no, not so fast, my scary grey negotiating partner. Before I tell you what you want, I have to see the rubber ball to be sure that it’s safe and in good condition.’

  ‘I don’t have any rubber ball,’ said Grayston.

  ‘Mr Grayston, I do hope you won’t be offended if I remind you of something that you already know.’

  ‘What is it?’ asked Grayston.

  ‘That you’re lying,’ said Lobbus.

  ‘How do you know I’m lying?’

  ‘Because witnesses have seen you with the ball in this very garden.’

  ‘This very what garden?’ asked Grayston.

  ‘Show me that ball and I’ll describe your garden for you,’ said Lobbus.

  ‘What?’ said Grayston. ‘You’re getting me all confused and it’s giving me a headache.’ Grayston wasn’t used to this much conversation. Usually he had only to run up to the fence looking scary and other dogs would run five kilometres, preferring to try to hear a lion’s roar than to see, even for one second, Grayston’s gnashing teeth inside his scary snout.

  ‘I can stop your headache,’ said Lobbus. ‘Just show me that the rubber ball is safe and in good condition and I’ll take your headache away.’

  ‘But aren’t I still denying that I have the rubber ball?’ asked Grayston, now quite confused.

  ‘No, that was before your headache. Now you’re admitting it,’ said Lobbus.