The Cats of Butterwick Sands

by Gabriella Thomas

  But there was one dog that was friendly with everyone, even the cats: soppy old Bilko, the pub dog. Well he had gone home after his walk and he was lying on the pub lounge carpet, when Mr and Mrs Trotter walked in. Ivor was serving behind the bar and Ella was in the kitchen. Mr Trotter said, “Ivor, the Mrs found a little kitten today and I have been asking all round but no-one seems to own it, the wife’s quite taken with it.”

  “Oh yes,” added Mrs Trotter, “he is so cute, such unusual markings, I would love to keep him, but we should let people know in case it belongs to anyone.” Mr Trotter had some leaflets in his hands Printed on them was:

  lost kitten found

  half persian, half tortoiseshell, a few months old.

  please call mobile no 077768911

  mildred and bill trotter

  “What do you think, landlord?” said Bill.

  “Yep,” said Ivor, “that should do the trick and, if no-one rings you, then you’d be safe to keep it.”

  Ella came in from the kitchen with some rather nice looking meat pies. “Hello Bill. Hello Mildred. How are you both?” Mildred explained to Ella about the kitten. “Oh yes no problem I will put some leaflets around the pub.”

  Bill had been eyeing the lovely steaming meat pies. “Those smell good, Ella.”

  “Just made,” said Ella, “do have one.” Bill didn’t need asking twice; he took a meat pie for himself and one for his wife and ordered a nice ice cold beer. Well, he thought, biting into the lovely pie, looking for owners of kittens was thirsty work. He was hot and sweaty from all that walking and so he deserved a little treat! And who knows they might be going home next week with a new kitten for Mildred.

  Bilko had been lying on the carpet half listening to the conversation at the bar. Percy was on the bench outside grooming himself, something that Bilko couldn’t understand, why did cats do that all the time? He had once asked Percy that question and the cat had looked at him with a rather pitying air. “There is no point explaining anything to a dog.” he’d said, which Bilko had thought was rather unfair. Anyway, as he was lying there, he caught the words ‘kitten’ and ‘lost’ and then he smelt meat pie. He went bounding over to the bar where Bill proceeded to make a fuss of him. “Bilko! Old boy, come to say hello?”

  “More like, he smelt meat pie!” said Ella, laughing. “Come on, here you are! She put a pie down on the floor behind the bar; Bilko gobbled it up in two seconds flat. Bilko then heard about the kitten and saw Ella putting up a piece of paper on one of the pillars in the pub. Bilko couldn’t read of course but something started to stir at the back of his doggy brain. Today, he’d seen a kitten, in Mildred’s arms, at the house on wheels,

  “I know, I know,” he barked frantically, but of course the humans couldn’t understand him.

  “Quiet Bilko,” shouted Ella, just as Percy decided to stroll in from the pub garden.

  “Why are you barking?” he said. “I wish you would tone it down, there’s a good fellow.”

  “A kitten has gone missing and I saw him today,” said Bilko.

  Now whilst Percy had been sitting in the garden, he had seen a group of cats running around up and down the seafront and one of them, a rather strange fellow wearing a blue and red kerchief had asked Percy if he had seen a kitten. Percy had said that he hadn’t; the cat had then asked Percy to keep an eye out for a half Persian, half tortoiseshell kitten. Percy remembered that as a young cat, he had got lost and how frightening it had been. He was living in London at the time with Ivor and Ella and a cat he had met whilst scavenging for food had told him that his best chance was to go to Butterwick. But just before he had started the long walk, a human had recognised him from a photo put up by Ivor in the bus shelter and he had finally been reunited with Ella and Ivor and lots of tears were shed. Although normally in control of his emotions, even Percy had felt rather emotional and had stayed on Ella’s bed, enjoying the fuss and he had put a paw on her leg to say, “I am so happy to be home.” Percy’s eyes misted over at the memory and now this stupid dog was saying he knew something!

  “Where?” said Percy. “Come with me!”

  Bilko couldn’t believe it, the cat wanted help from him! Bilko suddenly felt very important. He followed Percy out through the pub garden where families were sitting enjoying their drinks in the sunshine. They went past the little pub playground with a sandpit for the children and past the large patch of grass at the bottom where two donkeys, Blossom and Burt were grazing peacefully; the two donkeys who used to work the donkey rides and who were adopted by Ella and Ivor. They ran in the direction of the pier where a large group of cats were all sitting together. Bilko began to feel a little nervous, one cat was bad enough to contend with; he couldn’t count but he saw that there must be twenty or more! Percy and Bilko ran up to the group and immediately some of the cats started hissing and arching their backs.

  “It’s OK,” mewled Percy, “this dog knows where the kitten is, he has seen him today.”

  A cat came out of the group towards them; he was a multi-coloured cat with short fur and Bilko could see he was very troubled.

  “Please sir, if you know where my Woody is, I will be so grateful.”

  Bilko had never been called ‘Sir’ before and his kind old heart went out to the pussy cat. “Down at the other end of the beach,” barked Bilko, “I will show you where it is.” With that he shot off with all the other cats in hot pursuit. The people walking up and down the seafront in the late afternoon and the people on the pier watched in amazement at the strange sight of a big shaggy dog running like the clappers, followed by lots and lots of cats and it was only the locals who didn’t bat an eyelid, as this was Butterwick after all.

  They reached Bill and Mildred’s caravan, with Bilko barking, “He’s in here, he’s in here.”

  “Why would he be in there?” meowed Reggie. “I’m the officer of the law around here and you better not be messing us about!”

  “No officer,” replied Bilko, “I can assure you this is where I saw him!”

  Milo started to walk around the caravan, he looked up and saw a window open at the back, but it was only open a little bit, “Woody,” he called, “Woody, are you in there?”

  Jonty, who had also come around the back of the caravan, also started calling, “Woody are you there?” The other cats had followed them and they all started mewling,

  “Woody… Woody,” they mewled. To any human passing by at that time, all they would have heard would have been a dreadfully loud caterwauling.

  Meanwhile, inside the caravan, Woody had woken up half an hour ago. He had fallen off the bed in fright, when he had seen the stuffed cat and then saw the bowl and had drunk some milk. But now he was worried, where had the nice lady gone? What was this strange place that looked like his pink tongue? He wanted his mama. Suddenly, he heard all the cats miaowing his name and in amongst the noise, he recognised his daddy’s miaow. He bounded off in the direction of the sound. He went into a strange little room with a round white thing under a window, and in the other corner something with a curtain across. “Dada, Dada, I’m here,” he mewled.

  Outside Milo held up his paw. “Quiet, everyone, listen.” A plaintive mewl could be heard. “Woody! Daddy’s here!”

  “Woody, can you get up to the window?” shouted Reggie and all the cats repeated in chorus what Reggie had said, “Get up to the window!” Woody looked up, could he jump that high? With all of his might, he tried to jump up but he fell off as the base of the basin was very slippery.

  “I’m trying, Daddy,” he miawoed.

  “Come on, you can do it,” shouted Hamish in his Scottish drawl, “there’s a nice bit of fish waiting for ye!

  “Come on, son!” encouraged Milo.

  “OK Daddy,” replied Woody. Now whilst Woody could be reckless, he was not stupid. He looked at the shower curtain and thought, If I jump on the curtain I can climb up and
then drop into that bowl thingy. Clever Woody! And with that he jumped onto the curtain, digging his claws in and scratched his way up the curtain. He had experience of this after having shimmied up the old torn black curtains scattered around the ghost train. He reached the point at which he was level with the bowl; he let go and dropped in. “I’m in the bowl, Daddy,” he miawoed.

  “He means the sink, I think,” said Percy examining his claws.

  “What?” said Horatio.

  “What’s going on now?” said Fergus. “Woody, can you reach the window and get out?”

  Woody saw that he was level with the window; the problem was that the gap was very small as the window was only held open on the first hole in the latch. Woody heaved himself up and tried to squeeze himself through the gap but couldn’t do it. “I can’t get through, Daddy, what shall I do?”

  Milo could now see Woody’s little face at the window. “Hang on son, we’ll think of something,” but what? All the cats were looking at each other, Bilko was swishing his tail, very perplexed and a silence had descended as the cats wondered what to do, Then a loud screeching noise was heard, a mocking cry and bird poo falling from the skies.

  “Oh no, that’s all we need,” said Reggie, “that blooming seagull Gunther and his pals.”

  The cats and Bilko looked up as Gunther came to rest on the caravan roof. “Vell, vell, vhat have vee ere den? Cats und dogs together, vell I never,” and Gunther started to laugh and laugh.

  “Go away,” said Reggie, “or I will have you arrested!”

  At this, Gunther and the other seagulls started laughing and laughed so much that the caravan was almost shaking. All the cats started hissing and howling and Milo, his eyes full of tears looked up at the bird who was fixing him with an evil stare.

  “My Woody is stuck in there and when the humans get back they will take him away. He is stuck on the window ledge because the gap is too small to get out.”

  Gunther looked at Milo and then he looked at the cats staring up at him. “OK, OK,” he squawked and looked over the edge of the caravan roof. He saw Woody’s anxious face peering out of the little gap. He started squawking to his seagull pals and they all started screeching and squawking again. Reggie was about to say something insulting again when Gunther suddenly jumped down onto the window ledge holding on with his powerful claws. He manages to poke his powerful beak into the small gap and lift the arm of the window latch up, making the gap big enough for Woody to squeeze through. He holds the window open with his body and, as quick as a flash Woody jumps out and down onto the ground. Woody bounced up to Milo, who licked him all over and over again.

  “I’m sorry, Daddy; I won’t run off any more, I’m sorry.”

  “Oh Woody, thank heavens, we’ve been so worried. Let’s get you back to your Mom, come here,” and Milo wrapped his paws around his son and hugged and hugged him. He looked up to see Gunther launch himself off the ledge and back onto the roof of the van. “Thank you, sir, so much,” he mewled.

  “Vell, if you vant a good job done, call a seagull, pussy cats!! Seagulls ve score 1, pussy cats 0,” squawked Gunther, as he took off from the roof with his sea gull mates, dropping more bird poo, laughing and swooping as he left. All the cats were stunned not quite believing what they had seen.

  “A seagull!” muttered Fergus, “A seagull!” The fairground and caravan cats made their way back up the cliff with Milo and little Woody leading the way. Slowly the other cats started to disperse and go back to their homes. Of course, there was much rejoicing when little Woody got back home, the fishcake was shared out by Milo and his little family and everyone was pleased that Woody was safe, even Clarence – after all he was his little brother. When the kittens were all safely sleeping, Milo and Lala sat looking quietly at their brood, touching their paws together. “You know,” said Milo, “I am going to hold a big party for everyone that helped me today. I will start gathering lots of food tomorrow and we can have it here in the fairground. It will be a thank you to them all, cats, dogs…”

  “And seagulls,” said Lala.

  “Yes of course, my love, especially seagulls,” he replied.

  Down on the seafront at the far end of the town, sitting on the pub bench outside The Old Sea Dog was Percy the cat who was grooming himself in the evening air, which was warm and clear. Behind him Blossom and Burt were braying softly and grazing, they had heard about the lost kitten too.

  “Hee haw, no-one asked us to join the search,” said Blossom, “we never get invited to anything.”

  “Hee haw,” replied Burt, “that’s because we are donkeys it’s our lot in life, dear.”

  “You always say that, Burt, oh I wish I wasn’t a donkey at times!”

  “Don’t be silly, dear; we have a good home here.”

  “Only because that Jenny left us, abandoned us,” said Blossom.

  As we can see tell, Blossom is a rather morose animal who whinges and moans a lot; she still wears the straw hat with her ears poking through that she wore on the donkey rides and written on the ribbon on the hat is Smile. Blossom actually didn’t really like children much but she had dutifully walked up and down the beach all day in return for food and a home in a field at the back of the chip shop. But the girl Jenny who was supposed to look after them was always forgetting to feed them and brush them down so they began to look a bit neglected. “Those poor donkeys,” the locals would remark, “she can’t be bothered to look after them, always mooning after that McAllister chap in the chip shop and him a married man with five children and all.” Well, when Jenny had ran off with the McAllister chap, Ivor and Ella, the owners of the pub had felt sorry for them and taken them in.

  “Lord knows what would have happened to us,” said Burt.

  Ivor and Ella did not expect them to work anymore, they just were there for the children that came into the beer garden to look at and pet and feed them treats like apples and carrots that Ella would keep under the bar. The children loved the old donkeys and Burt would always let himself be stroked, Blossom would let them too, if she got a treat! At night and in winter they would bed down in a special shed that Ivor had built for them at the bottom of the garden, which had nice and warm with fresh straw and water. Yes, Burt was very grateful for this home, but Blossom on the other hand just didn’t like being a donkey. “I should have been a horse you know,” she would say to Burt, “much more civilised.”

  Burt would just listen and nod. Anything for a quiet life,” he would tell Bilko. “Bilko, old chap, if you ever get married just always say ‘yes dear’.” Bilko however, had no intention of ever getting married as he was quite happy as he was. He liked living in the pub and being clever. As Blossom and Burt slowly made their way back toward their shed, we can see Bilko lying on the grass underneath a bench. “Well what a day that was,” he said, his tail still thumping with excitement of being a part in the rescue of the kitten; the daddy cat of the rescued kitten had thanked him and had even invited him to a party and now here he was conversing with Percy.

  Percy had just started a very complicated grooming process that cats do, starting with his tail. “Yes it was rather interesting,” he replied, “of course, a cat’s paw is not as versatile as a claw and so therefore by the law of averages, it was obvious that the seagull would have had the advantage.”

  Bilko never really understood anything that Percy said but, not wanting to seem rude answered, “Yes, Perce, you’re right of course!”

  Percy replied, “Yes it really was all a forgone conclusion and by the way, don’t call me Perce.” As usual Percy had the last word.

  About a week later making its way back ‘up north’, is the Trotter’s caravan. Inside the car and sitting on the front seat next to Mr Trotter is Mrs Trotter, with a little bundle on her knee; it is a rather cute little tabby kitten. Mrs Trotter is tickling her under the chin, “There, there, my little fuzzy wuzzy baby. Oh look Bill I think that
little Rosie is actually smiling!” Mr Trotter looked over to his wife and their new kitten Rosie and smiled to himself. He thought about how distressed Mildred had been when they got back to the caravan and found the kitten had gone. “How is it possible?” Mildred had cried. “How could he have opened the window and got out!” No one could answer that question, except of course the cats, the seagulls, Bilko and indeed, all the other animals in Butterwick. Ella at the pub could see how distressed Mildred was when they came in the pub later on that day.

  “Oh Mildred I am sorry about the kitten, it has been a strange old day, the regulars have said that the village was full of cats everywhere. Bilko has been acting very strangely and so have Blossom and Burt; I don’t know what’s going on to be honest.”

  “Oh well,” said Mildred, heaving herself on a bar stool, “we’ll be going home soon, so better make the most of the rest of the holiday I suppose.” She sat there morosely drinking her sweet sherry.

  “There, there my dear, don’t upset yourself,” said Mr Trotter.

  The next day Ella went into Fairmile where there was a good pet shop called Fur and Feather run by a nice young couple called Jill and Colin. The animals were always well looked after. The shop sold rabbits, gerbils, rats and mice, fish, birds, puppies and… kittens! They all had nice clean and warm bedding and plenty of food and fresh water, so Ella knew that it was a good place to get a new pet for Mildred. There were five little kittens in the back of the shop in a pen. Ella chose the friendliest and prettiest one of the bunch, a cute little silver tabby. The kitten was put in a carrier basket. “Thank you, Jill,” said Ella as she left the shop. On the way back she stopped at the wool shop and brought some pink ribbon to put round the kittens neck as she knew Mildred loved pink. When she got back to the pub she showed Ivor the kitten. “You are an old softie,” he said, “Mildred will be so pleased,” as he tickled the kitten under the chin… and she was!