The Scruffs

by Hannah Shaw

  “Here’s where I sleep,” Itch said, pointing to a scratched-up dog bed. “They’re meant to be for sale but Mr Straw doesn’t sell much so we’re free to use whatever we need around the shop.” He paused to lick out a tube of extra-meaty toothpaste.

  “There are cages for sale too, but Mr Straw would never lock me in one,” Gerb proudly explained.

  “And these are our feeding bowls for when it’s dinner time,” said Itch.

  “Most of the day we can just do our own thang,” Elvis winked, “because Mr Straw over there is always faaast asleep in his chair.”

  “Elvis likes to sing karaoke in his spare time, and I’m writing a novel,”

  “I’m growing Slug boasted. to like it here,” Ursula purred. “It’s a bit different from what I’m used to, but you guys seem to love it so I’m sure I will too.” Ursula put the memory of her previous home – the beautiful apartment with its wall-to-wall carpets, luxurious sofa and high-definition television – to the back of her mind and smiled.

  “Small and cosy. It’s perfect…”

  “Oh, wait a minute – we haven’t shown Ursula the most important place!” Itch barked excitedly.

  Itch led the way behind Mr Straw’s chair, where a doorway led out to a tiny kitchen.

  This was where Mr Straw prepared his cups of tea and buttered his cheese-and-pickle sandwiches. Another door with a roomy pet flap led to a walled backyard area.

  “You have a garden!” Ursula exclaimed joyfully. “I’ve heard about gardens but I’ve never been in one!”

  And what a garden – it was more like a jungle. Ursula could see so many exciting places to sharpen her claws, and the air was full of interesting smells.

  Itch wagged his tail. “And this is the Den,” he said.

  It looked more like an old rabbit hutch to Ursula, but she was too polite to say so. “Go on in!” said Itch, ushering Ursula inside as the others followed. A few old blankets were draped on the floor and there was a small cupboard nailed to the wall, containing a packet of digestive biscuits stolen from Mr Straw’s stash, and an old notebook.

  “As our newest member, you can help yourself to the first biscuit,” Slug said to Ursula kindly. “Then could you please make your mark in our notebook?”

  Ursula cheerfully added her paw print. She was part of the gang now!

  “So what do you do in here?” she asked.

  “Well, mainly we eat biscuits,” Elvis explained.

  “But sometimes we do top-secret missions!” chirped Lost, who’d joined them after a refreshing power nap.

  “HAHAHAHA!” A peal of laughter echoed from above. The Scruffs stepped outside. In a high branch of a tree sat Tom, the cat from the cafe.

  “What a bunch of UGLY misfits,” he jeered. “Cat, what possessed you to hang out with those L.O.S.E.R.S – a hairy dog tramp, a rodent dumbo, a crusty old lizard, my lost snack and … is that a SLUG who thinks he’s a pet?”

  Ursula hissed angrily. Tom shifted a little uncomfortably even though he was up in the relative safety of the tree.

  “You think you can take my pre-dinner appetiser off me and get away with it?” he hissed back. “Well, just you wait. I’m watching you all in your stupid secret den, probably making stupid plans… I’ll get my revenge.”

  “Buzz off!” growled Itch. He hated that cat.

  “Ah, let’s ignore him.” Ursula smiled and flicked her tail, strolling casually back through the pet flap and flopping down in her new dusty basket. She was blissfully weary … this might just have been the most exciting day of her life.

  Ting-a-ling!

  Ursula woke up. The morning sun was bright outside the pet-shop window.

  But wait… What was this? Customers? The animals all gasped in astonishment – it had been months since an actual real-life customer had been seen inside the shop. Mr Straw was surprised too. He leapt to his feet and straightened his back-to-front jumper, accidentally knocking his breakfast tea all over his newspaper and narrowly missing Slug, who was reading the small ads.

  “Um… Welcome to the P-P-P-Perfect Pet Shop. I’m Mr Straw. Are you after anything in particular?”

  “He’s putting on the proper shop-owner act,” giggled Gerb.

  “Shh!” Lost squawked, peering through her new glasses. “I don’t like the look of these customers…”

  Indeed, the customers were not the usual type. The few people who – very rarely – came to the Perfect Pet Shop were usually pretty scruffy themselves. These customers were very smart. They looked clean and shiny. The lady seemed to recoil as Mr Straw bumbled towards them, and the little girl scrunched up her nose.

  “Mummy, it SMELLS awful in here…”

  “What … what are those?” the woman asked, looking aghast as she stared at each one of the Scruffs in turn.

  “Oh, they’re my lovely animals,” Mr Straw said, smiling proudly. “Now, how can I help you?” The lady backed away even further, almost sticking her heel into poor Slug, who had slid over eagerly to greet them.

  “Eeeeek!” shrieked the lady. “A slug! Disgusting! I hope it didn’t get slime on my shoe.”

  Slug turned a bright shade of pink. His feelings were terribly hurt, and he slid off to a dark corner.

  “Come on, Bunty,” snapped the woman. “This is a mistake – there are clearly no pets for you here. We’re leaving.”

  But Bunty was staring at Ursula and her little face had lit up.

  “No, Bunty! I told you, we’re leaving right now.”

  Bunty screwed up her face and began to shriek. “But, Mummy! I WANT THAT CAT!”

  The noise was ear-splitting. Poor Mr Straw covered his ears in shock, Itch covered his with his paws, Lost squawked in terror, and Gerb, whose hearing was sensitive at the best of times, stuck his head in a pile of shavings.

  The woman sighed. “Fine. I suppose we can have her fumigated.” She took out her purse from her handbag. “How much for the cat?”

  Bunty stopped shrieking and Mr Straw rubbed his head in astonishment.

  “Err, that cat isn’t for sale. She only just arrived yesterday and I…”

  The woman shoved a wad of crisp notes into Mr Straw’s hand and said, in a voice that oozed venom, “I suggest you reconsider. What my little princess wants, my little princess gets.”

  There was a moment where all the animals held their breath, and then Mr Straw looked at the floor. He was clearly no match for the customer’s steely gaze. “I – I need time to get her tidied up a bit,” he muttered. “But you can have her tomorrow.”

  Bunty’s pout turned into a huge grin. “I looooove you, MUMMYKINS!” she sang in the most sickening way. Then she shrieked again, this time with delight, and ran over to Ursula, picking her up around the middle and squeezing her far too tightly. Ursula struggled to breathe.

  “Bunty!” said her mother. “We will collect the cat tomorrow.” She gave Mr Straw a hard stare. “When she has been de-fleaed and wormed.”

  And with that the woman took hold of Bunty’s hand and dragged her out the shop, slamming the door behind her.

  Mr Straw slumped down into his chair and put his head in his hands. The animals were all speechless. Ursula couldn’t believe what had just happened – but one thing was for sure, she did not want to be a pet to THAT dreadful family.

  Chapter Six

  OPERATION: SAVE URSULA!

  Mr Straw was still shaking his head and muttering long after the woman and the little girl had left. He kept staring at the notes in his hand. The animals could tell that, while he didn’t want to part with Ursula, he had never seen so much money.

  “I don’t think we can rely on Mr Straw to help us on this one,” Itch said worriedly. “He doesn’t know what to do. Ursula’s future is in DANGER. We need to call a SCRUFFS meeting RIGHT NOW.” Itch grabbed a dog whistle from the shelf and blew hard. Pheeep! “Would all Scruffs make their way outside to the Den, please? It’s an EMERGENCY.”

  The animals crowded into the hutch, all talking at
once.

  “I can’t believe it … the cheek!” said Lost.

  “There’s no time to lose – they’ll be back tomorrow,” said Gerb.

  “She almost trod on me,” said Slug.

  “I don’t think they knew the first thing about cats … or animals, for that matter,” said Itch.

  “Oh, lordy!” said Elvis

  “What are we going to dooooo,” wailed Slug.

  “WOULD EVERYONE JUST BE QUIET?” Ursula yelled above the din. Everyone fell silent. “Look, there’s no time to talk – we need action. I don’t want to go back to being anyone’s pet; I want to stay here and be one of the gang and have lots of fun adventures. And can you imagine what life will be like with those two?”

  Everyone thought for a moment.

  There would be lots of CUDDLES…

  There would almost certainly be HAIRDRESSING…

  And lots of WALKS…

  Not to mention DRESSING UP…

  “…and then they’ll go away on holiday and forget to feed me,” Ursula mewed sadly. She’d never had a day in her life when she hadn’t eaten well. The horror of it all. She put her head in her paws.

  “Ursula’s right,” said Elvis. “We need to stop jib-jabbering and help this kitty!” Slug got out the notebook and sharpened the pencil. “Right. Everyone suggest an idea to stop Ursula being taken away and we’ll go with the best one.”

  Then Elvis, who’d been staring into the distance all the while, said in a long slow drawl… “What she needs is … a make-under!”

  “A make-under? Why … why … that’s it! Elvis, you’re a genius!” Itch laughed.

  Elvis changed colour to a light pink tone. “Thankyouverymuch, hound dog!”

  All the other Scruffs looked puzzled. “We don’t get it,” said Lost.

  “Think about it,” Itch said. “Why did Ursula get picked today instead of one of us? In fact, can any of you remember anyone EVER wanting to buy one of us?”

  The animals all shook their heads and Itch carried on.

  “Why? Well, Ursula is a primped and preened pedigree cat with perfect silky fur and we’re … well … scruffy, dirty and smelly. We need to make Ursula more Scruff! What do you think, Ursula?”

  Ursula thought for a minute and then grinned. “That’s the smartest … erm … scruffiest idea I’ve ever heard. Do your worst, guys!”

  “Yee-ha! It’s time to get scruffy!”

  Chapter Seven

  LET'S GET SCRUFFY!

  “Stay still, Ursula, I haven’t finished yet,” Slug protested.

  “But it tickles,” Ursula giggled. “And this is taking ages.”

  The yard was a hive of activity as all the Scruffs set to work giving Ursula the make-under of a lifetime.

  “It takes time to slime,” Slug tutted, frowning in concentration. He had been busy covering Ursula from head to tail in slug slime goo-trails. Elvis was holding up a mirror to show Ursula her make-under progress.

  Meanwhile Lost was perched on Ursula’s head, combing her fur backwards in little clumps with her claws.

  “Good back-combing, Lost!” Elvis was impressed. Slug’s slime acted like super-strength hair gel and her fur now stuck out in all directions.

  “We’re getting there!” Ursula chirped.

  Gerb had collected shavings from an old bag of bedding and put them in a pile.

  “If you’re finished,” he said, “roll in this!”

  Ursula had never rolled in anything before! Tentatively she lay down and wiggled a bit.

  “No! No! Like this!” Itch explained, flopping down on the ground and wiggling frenziedly on his back.

  Ursula tried again, “Ooh! This is fun!” Soon sawdust had stuck to all the slime in her matted fur.

  “How do I look?” she said breathlessly, looking round at all the Scruffs.

  They stared at her for a moment and then everyone burst out laughing!

  “What?” she said, hurt. “Hasn’t it worked?”

  “Oh, it’s worked,” gasped Itch, when he could speak. “You look absolutely terrible! It’s brilliant – no one will want to take you home like that!”

  “Really? Thanks, gang!” Ursula was really pleased. “But this sawdust is itchy. I don’t think I’ll be keeping this hairstyle for long…”

  Just then, Mr Straw’s voice called out across the yard. “Come and get your dinner!”

  The animals grinned at each other. They had done a fantastic job of turning Ursula into a real Scruff. NO ONE would want to buy her now!

  Back in the shop. Mr Straw, still looking worried, was dishing out the animal’s dinners. There were crickets for Elvis, some dried peas for Gerb, a sesame stick for Lost, a large plate of roast chicken and dog biscuits for Itch. There was nothing for Slug, but he was quite happy finishing off everyone’s leftovers. For pudding he munched through the sports section of the local paper.

  As Mr Straw bent down to give Ursula a plate of succulent pilchards he stumbled backwards in surprise. He took his glasses off, cleaned them and then put them back on again.

  “What?! Wait a minute? What’s happened to you, puss? Oh dearie me, you weren’t like that this morning! You need a BATH.”

  A BATH? Ursula bristled. Like all cats she simply HATED BATHS. She started to run for the yard, but Mr Straw scooped her up and headed for the kitchen sink.

  Oh no! All the effort the Scruffs had put into her amazing make-under would be washed away!

  Mr Straw got out a bottle of pink pet-wash from a cupboard and soon bubbles were frothing in the bowl. Ursula meowed and hissed and spat but it was no use. Gently but firmly, Mr Straw lowered her into the sink.

  “Nooooo!” Itch rushed over, howling in protest and Mr Straw looked at him in surprise.

  “Feeling left out? Do you want a bath too, lad? Actually, you could do with a wash…”

  And to Itch’s horror, the next minute he had joined Ursula in the sink.

  Soon the reluctant pets were scrubbed clean. The kitchen was now awash with puddles and bubbles and in the middle of it all Itch and Ursula dripped miserably as Mr Straw cheerily towel dried them.

  It wasn’t long before Ursula was looking beautiful again. Her fur gleamed as Mr Straw combed it back to how it had been. (Itch didn’t look much different apart from his eyepatch, which was wonky, and his fur, which was super fluffy like a baby lamb.)

  “There you go – looking lovely!” said Mr Straw, giving them both a pat. “Well, night-night, gang. And Ursula, I’m sorry that you’re being collected tomorrow – but, er, they seem like lovely people…” His voice trailed off and he sighed, then turned the lights off and went upstairs to bed.

  Ursula was too miserable to speak. She knew she’d stand no chance of escaping now.

  The Scruffs sat in silence in their beds and a gloom hung over the room.

  Itch, however, was deep in thought. “Don’t fret, Ursula,” he reassured her. “Gather round, everybody. I have Another Plan.”

  The Perfect Pet Shop was supposed to open at nine, but Mr Straw was famous for over-sleeping, so he set his alarm clock every night. But the next morning when he opened his eyes he saw to his horror that it was past eleven o’clock!

  That MIGHT have had something to do with the Scruffs…

  ANOTHER PLAN:

  Chapter Eight

  THE PARK

  “Attention, gang!” Itch said as the Scruffs blinked in the daylight. “I know the street is full of exciting smells but we need to stay focused. The most important thing is to make Ursula grubby again… Now let’s think – where can we go to get her really dirty?”

  “Look!” cried Elvis as he spotted a whole group of children walking with their parents on the opposite side of the road. They were all wearing wellington boots and heading in the same direction.

  “Follow them!” barked Itch “Where there are children, dirt is never far behind!”

  Off they went. Itch led the way with Elvis hanging off his collar and Lost flapped above him like a budgie b
alloon, a piece of string connecting them (to prevent her flying off again) with Gerb riding on her back for a better view. Ursula trotted silently behind with Slug riding on the end of her tail. The animals were all silent – their mission was too important for chatter. They needed to make Ursula as disgusting as possible, and there was no time to lose.

  At the Cakes-U-Like Cafe, Tom Cat was bored. He was half-dozing on top of a pile of brioche buns in the shop window, peering out at the world going by…

  Just another boring sort-of morning… Children off to the park again…

  Wait a second? What’s this? “Where are those silly pets off to?” He leapt up. “And what are they up to?” He pressed his face to the glass as they disappeared around the corner…

  The group of children were so busy chattering amongst themselves that it wasn’t until they got to the big gates – where a sign read WELCOME TO THE PARK – ALL PETS MUST BE KEPT ON LEADS – that they noticed they were being followed. Their jaws dropped as Itch, Elvis, Lost, Gerb, Ursula and Slug strolled casually past them. The children started whispering.

  Is that a gerbil with ENORMOUS ears?

  Is that budgie wearing glasses?

  Does that dog have an eyepatch?

  And is that a chameleon riding on the dog?!

  A sausage dog and a miniature poodle barked in astonishment. “What a rag-tag bunch of oddballs,” said one to the other. “Ha ha ha!! Just look at them!” They laughed so hard they tied themselves in knots.