Badger the Mystical Mutt and the Crumpled Capers

by Lyn McNicol

  Timmy looked on in awe as the black and white keys started to lift at one end of the piano, and weave into the air. Soon, the rest of the keys had followed and a staircase formed, reaching up to the stars.

  Timmy watched in wonder.

  “See you when you get back,” shouted Captain Bravebark, as Badger beckoned for Timmy to join him on the bottom step.

  “C’mon, Timmy, we’ve got quite a climb ahead.”

  They leapt up the stairs two at a time. After seventy-three-and-a-half flights, they were both huffing and puffing.

  “Just a few more steps and we’re there. I can see the top,” said Badger encouragingly.

  As they climbed the remaining stairs, they heard strange mutterings and annoyed tuttings from above.

  “That sounds like Nippy,” sighed Badger.

  “He doesn’t seem very pleased to see us,” said Timmy.

  They popped their heads through the mist at the top of the ivory staircase to see cotton-wool fluffiness and a very grouchy cloud.

  “Is there no escaping you, Badger the Mystical Mutt? And who is this you have with you this time?” bellowed Nippy Nimbus.

  “Hi, Nippy. This is Timmy. Can you let us through, please?”

  “Where’s that pesky contraption you usually come in?”

  “The Wim-Wim is getting its MOT. Captain Bravebark loaned me the Tangerine Piano and, I must say, it’s always a delight to see you, Nippy,” said Badger pleasantly.

  “Okay, what’s the password then?”

  Badger scratched his chin and whispered to Timmy, “I hate this bit. He always tries to catch me out.

  “Okay,” said Badger. “Who let the dogs out?”

  “Nope!” smirked Nippy. “Try again.”

  Badger puffed and thought again. He looked at Timmy and tried, “Cool for cats?”

  “Close … but no. One last try.”

  Badger looked again at Timmy and grinned. “Right, last try. How about … What’s new pussycat?”

  Nippy groaned. Badger had outwitted him again. “Be on your way then.”

  Reluctantly, Nippy let them through.

  In front of them shone a dazzling light. Timmy shielded his eyes.

  “Oh!” said Badger “We’ve been fast-tracked straight to the Crystal Cave.”

  And there, in front of them, stood Baby Unicorn.

  “I heard the ivories tinkle and saw the rainbow shimmer, so I’ve been expecting you,” winked the unicorn. “Step inside!”

  Timmy followed Badger, who followed the clip-clop sound of Baby Unicorn’s hooves as he led them both deep into the cave.

  Timmy’s eyes widened in wonder at the blaze of light inside. They walked under a dazzling crystal archway, past a stunning display of crystal rocks, and into a dimly lit chamber.

  Timmy rubbed his eyes as they adjusted from the brightness. Everything was hushed.

  “What happens now?” he whispered.

  “Just watch,” said Badger.

  Baby Unicorn pointed his head towards the smooth rock on the cave wall. A beam of light whooshed out from the horn in the middle of his forehead. The cave wall flickered into motion like a movie screen.

  There, Timmy saw an image of Snif as a much younger dog, chasing a burly tomcat across a field.

  “That’s Snif!” yelled Timmy excitedly.

  “That’s right. Watch and see what happens next,” said Badger.

  Back on the screen, Snif was catching up and, just as he was about to pounce, the cat shot upwards and bounded over a spiked railing.

  Snif tried to leap the railing too, but he wasn’t as nimble as the cat and couldn’t clear it. He landed slap bang in the middle of the spike.

  Timmy looked on in horror, as he watched Snif yelp and howl with the spike spearing his side. He was bleeding badly.

  “Owww!” cried Timmy.

  “It’s okay, Timmy. Just watch. He’ll be fine,” reassured Badger.

  The tomcat sat on the other side of the railing and smirked.

  The picture flickered. Badger looked at Timmy and said softly: “I think we now understand why Snif hates cats. Let’s see what happened next.”

  They peered back at the screen on the cave wall and saw the cat taunt Snif, before slinking off.

  Just then, a Big Folk farmer drove up in his tractor, saw Snif and ran out to help.

  The picture flickered again and showed Snif lying on his back with a huge red scar on his side.

  “No wonder Snif doesn’t like cats. That tomcat just left him there bleeding. It was horrible,” said Timmy sadly.

  “There’s still more for us to watch, Timmy. Look,” pointed Badger.

  Back on the cave wall, another image appeared. This time, it was Timmy looking at his reflection in the duck pond. He was touching his crumpled ear and trying to flatten it out.

  “That’s me,” murmured Timmy.

  Badger said nothing. Then the image showed Timmy sneezing and wiping his nose with his paw as he tried to catch up with a clowder of cats, that was shouting at him to leave them alone.

  “We don’t want you with us, with that crumpled ear, scruffy coat and snotty snout. Crumpled Lug, Crumpled Lug, makes you look an ugly mug!”

  “But I was born like this,” Timmy whispered sadly. He walked back to the duck pond, his shoulders slumped and his head hung low.

  The screen went blank. Baby Unicorn and Badger looked at Timmy, who suddenly seemed very, very lonely.

  “So this is why you want to join the gang? Because the cats don’t want you?” asked Badger kindly.

  “I just want to have pals and fit in somewhere,” said Timmy woefully.

  “Look Timmy, Baby Unicorn could uncrumple your ear right now, and give you something to help your sneezes … but I don’t think that’s the answer.”

  Timmy looked up hopefully. “Could he really?”

  “Yes, but then you wouldn’t be Timmy. That ear makes you who you are. It’s part of you. The sneezes we can work on back home, with a herbal potion of nettles, ginger and saffron, and a lotion of parsley, chamomile and basil.”

  “Yuk!” said Timmy “I think I’d rather sneeze.”

  “Be proud of who you are and celebrate your crumpledness!”

  Timmy wasn’t entirely convinced, but nodded his agreement.

  “Pet dander!” said Baby Unicorn.

  “Dander what?” asked Timmy and Badger together.

  “It’s a bit like Big Folks’ hay fever. That’s what’s causing your sneezing, Timmy. You’re allergic to dogs.”

  “I can’t be allergic to dogs, surely? I want to join their gang,” said Timmy, flabbergasted.

  “Goodness! So that’s a real reason why cats and dogs can’t be together?” asked Badger.

  “It’s very rare for cats to be allergic to dogs and, as you well know, Badger, there’s no such thing as problems … only solutions. And in this case, it’s a simple course of papaya and pineapple.”

  “Aha! But they could be tricky to get in winter,” said Badger.

  “I’m sure you’ll find a way, Badger,” Baby Unicorn smiled.

  “Okay,” said Badger bowing. “Thank you, Baby Unicorn. So, now we know why Snif is horrible to you, perhaps we can help sort this out before a cat-astrophe occurs between you both.”

  Baby Unicorn bowed, and Badger led the way out of the cave where they all heard the distant tinkle of the ivory staircase.

  Back in the lane, Snif was holding a meeting with Pogo Paws, Pickle and Lennie, to decide Timmy’s last and ultimate challenge.

  “It’s got to be something that he won’t ever manage,” said Pickle.

  “Yes, something mammoth, that even his six and a half senses can’t overcome,” added Pogo Paws.

  “What’s the point of that?” said Lennie.

  “Zip it, Lennie!” said Snif. He touched the jagged skin of the scar on his side and growled.

  “This is payback time. It’s time we showed those cats who’s boss. This is for the whole of dogkind, ever
ywhere.”

  At the Ring of Brodgar, Captain Bravebark was waiting by the Tangerine Piano. Badger and Timmy jumped off the last step of the ivory staircase and ran to greet him.

  “Thanks, Captain,” said Badger. “That was really helpful.”

  “Did you get what you needed?” he asked.

  “That … and more. Timmy had a trip he’ll never forget,” said Badger.

  Timmy grinned widely.

  “Righty-ho! Then you’d better get home. I’ll send you a p-mail when the Wim-Wim’s fixed, Badger,” yelled Captain Bravebark.

  But Badger was already high in the air with Timmy on his back.

  Badger and Timmy landed in the garden with a thud.

  “Goodness!” said Timmy. “Did that really just happen?”

  “You’d better believe it,” said Badger with a knowing wink. “So, maybe you understand Snif a bit better now?”

  “Indeed I do. And now I know exactly what I need to do to get into the gang,” said Timmy confidently, walking towards the crack in the fence.

  Badger watched as Timmy left, wondering exactly what the cat was planning.

  As Timmy stepped into the lane, he came face to face with Pogo Paws, Pickle, Lennie and Snif, who surrounded him.

  Snif leaned in to Timmy’s crumpled ear and, in a menacing whisper, said: “So, do you still want to join our gang, Snotty Nose?”

  “Yes, but I understand why you don’t like cats now,” he answered bravely.

  “It’s not all cats. Just you,” shouted Pogo Paws.

  “Yes, it’s only crumpled snivelling cats that we dislike,” added Pickle.

  “I think you’re okay for a cat,” said Lennie affectionately.

  “Zip it, Lennie! It’s not just him … it’s all cats. They’re rotten to the core,” spat Snif.

  The gang looked at their leader, surprised at just how completely anti-cat he was.

  “I saw what happened to you before, with the cat, Snif,” offered Timmy.

  “What do you mean? Saw what?” sneered Snif.

  “I saw you chasing that tomcat and getting caught on the railings.”

  Snif looked uneasy, turned to his gang and joked: “I have no idea what he’s talking about. Maybe we should add ‘daftness’ to Timmy’s list of freaky features.”

  “But I saw it. It was awful how the cat just left you on that spike. Can I see your scar?”

  Instinctively, Snif held his paws to his side, as he felt the familiar itch of his scar, bringing back painful memories from years before. He shuddered.

  “You told me you wrestled an escaped tiger to the ground, and that’s how you got your scar,” said Pickle, a bit puzzled.

  Snif winced and shifted uncomfortably on his paws.

  “And you told me that you were wounded when you tamed a bull, like a matador,” said Pogo Paws, a little peeved.

  “I thought you said you grappled a crocodile in the pond to save the ducks,” added a disappointed Lennie.

  “It was none of those,” said Timmy. “It was just a cat.”

  Snif looked away in shame.

  “Badger showed me,” continued Timmy. “And thank goodness he did, because I want you to know, Snif, that all cats aren’t like the one who left you bleeding there that day.”

  Snif turned round sharply and snorted in rage: “Badger? Why is he filling your head with this nonsense?”

  “But it’s not nonsense,” pleaded Timmy.

  “We’ll soon see about that,” barked Snif, as he raced off to find Badger.

  “Oh no, what have I done?” worried Timmy.

  In Badger’s garden, all was not well. His secret stash of toast was looking very soggy. Badger’s easy un-freezy spell was not working out as planned. He peered into the puddle in front of him, at the leftovers of his wonky spell. Suddenly, in the reflection, he spotted a shadow behind him. His neckerchief twitched in warning.

  Badger spun around, to see Snif skulking at the bottom of his garden, looking like he was about to pounce.

  Very quietly, Badger spoke to his red-spotted neckerchief: “Show Koo Ray, Show Koo Ray, Show Koo Ray ’Chief, shield me quickly from this angry stray.”

  Without hesitation, ’Chief flew off Badger’s neck and headed straight for a nearby tree. Slicing the icicles off its branches in one swift motion, ’Chief fired them one by one into the frosty ground around Snif, encircling him in a cage of ice.

  “Let me out, let me out, you meddling mutt,” begged Snif.

  The neckerchief flew back and wrapped itself snugly around Badger’s neck.

  “Thank you,” said Badger, tapping ’Chief softly in appreciation. “Now,” said Badger, walking around the circle of icicles which held Snif captive. “What has got you so angry, my friend?”

  “Friend? Friend? You’re no friend of mine,” said Snif enraged. “Why did you tell Timmy about my scar, and how do you know about that anyway?”

  “It doesn’t matter how I know. What matters is that you believe that Timmy isn’t like the cat that left you that day.”

  Snif started to get agitated again as he remembered the pain of the spike.

  “Cats are all the same: cunning, sneaky and vicious,” he spat.

  “But it’s the same for dogs, some would say. Most are really nice, but the odd one isn’t,” said Badger softly.

  “At least when we wag our tails, it means we’re happy and friendly. When a cat wags its tail, it’s not that simple,” said Snif.

  “True. And that’s maybe where this confusion comes from. Just a misunderstanding about tail-wagging.”

  Snif thought for a moment, then listened as Badger continued. “There isn’t a line drawn with dogs on one side and cats on the other. Yes, we are different, but we’re all on the same side. We breathe the same air and we live under the same sky.”

  “But Timmy’s even more different than most cats,” said Snif.

  “And that’s another reason you should be less harsh towards him. He’s struggling to fit in, especially with you lot calling him names and excluding him,” said Badger.

  “But that stuff that comes out of his nose is disgusting, and even some of the Big Folk don’t want to pick him up with his crumpled ear.”

  “How would you feel if that happened to you?” asked Badger.

  “Well, I don’t do much rolling over for tummy rubs because of my scar,” said Snif.

  “Exactly!” said Badger. “So, think how Timmy feels when everyone can see his unusual ear? He can’t hide it.”

  “I didn’t think about it like that,” said Snif thoughtfully.

  “Anyway,” added Badger, “you should be proud of your scar. You survived. It’s part of you, and it’s part of your history.”

  As the icicles around him began to melt, Snif touched the wound on his side with new affection.

  “He did manage the tasks you set him, against all the odds,” said Badger.

  “He certainly did, although I suffered as a result,” smiled Snif, revealing his missing teeth.

  “Imagine if you could turn Timmy’s skills to your advantage and use them for the good of the gang.”

  “I suppose, but I can’t see how the gang would ever accept a cat.”

  “You’re the leader. Persuade them,” said Badger. “Oh, look at that. You’re free to go. Your cage has melted.”

  Snif stepped across the puddles of water surrounding him and left Badger’s garden with his heart a little lighter.

  Further up the lane, an almighty sneeze was rumbling along in the breeze. A very determined Timmy was on his way to see Snif.

  “Snif, Snif!” shouted Timmy as he caught sight of the gang’s leader further up the lane, “Wait, I’ve had an idea”

  Snif stopped in his tracks as the little cat ran to catch him up.

  “I’ve been thinking,” said Timmy, “and I’ve come up with the task to end all tasks; a challenge that is bigger than anything you’ve set me yet.”

  “I’ve been thinking too, Timmy,” said Snif ge
ntly.

  Just then, the rest of the gang appeared and interrupted them.

  “Well, did you sort out that Mystical Mutt then?” asked Pogo Paws

  “Yes, did you show him who’s boss?” said Pickle.

  “Did he give you any of his secret toast stash?” asked Lennie hopefully.

  Pogo Paws and Pickle looked at Lennie in despair.

  “Yes, I did see Badger,” said Snif gruffly. “He won’t be bothering me again.”

  The gang looked at Timmy, who was hopping from one paw to the other, desperate to share his idea.

  “Timmy’s got an idea for the final task,” said Snif. “Come on then … spill!”

  “Okay, it’s a tree task. Now don’t worry, it doesn’t involve rolling tree trunks down hills,” said Timmy.

  Snif winced.

  “So, as it’s winter, the old oak tree at the other end of the lane usually has mistletoe up on its highest branches about now.”

  Snif and the gang looked puzzled.

  “Mistletoe is used to calm the jitters; something I think we could all do with,” offered Timmy.

  Lennie perked up and nodded enthusiastically

  “Plus, cats don’t generally like climbing too high, because when we do, we tend to get … erm … a bit stuck. So my challenge would be to overcome all that by scaling the tree and picking the mistletoe to bring back to the gang. What do you think?” smiled Timmy triumphantly.

  The gang muttered amongst themselves, then Pogo Paws announced, “Okay, go on then. Let’s see what you’re made of. Maybe it’ll be third time lucky.”

  “As long as we get to choose which branches we want the mistletoe from,” added Pickle sniggering.

  “Fine by me,” agreed Timmy.

  Pickle and Pogo Paws took Lennie aside for a hushed conflab and, seconds later, he dashed off in the direction of the tree.

  As Snif and Timmy discussed the details of the task, Lennie was undertaking a challenge of his own. As instructed by Pickle and Pogo Paws, he’d unhooked the hosepipe from the garden tap and had dragged it to the old oak tree. He looked upwards and shielded his eyes from the winter sun. He couldn’t figure out how he was supposed to throw the hosepipe over one of the really high branches.