A Feline Fantasy

Published online by: Crabtree Publishing 5 Harbour Rd, Ohope, Bay of Plenty Tel +64 7 219 0561 Email: admin@winnr,net Š Crabtree Publishing Cover Design: Lawrence Bredenkamp All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication maybe reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the prior permission of the publisher of this book.

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Parental guidance is advised in some parts of this book as there are references to animal neutering, it's effects and to inoculations from a feline perspective.

This little story is dedicated to my 5 grandchildren, none of whom I will ever meet. Also to all those souls on the perimeter of acceptance, I respect and revere your right to self -determination!

Preface Regrettably, humans are versed in just one single word of feline, namely 'meow,' which they chant like parrots, so for the benefit of simplicity this tome is written in plain English.

A World Below!

Everyday around 1.00pm if you are alert to the machinations of the feline fraternity, you'll see a steady stream of cats surreptitiously making their way up Gibson Rd. Trying hard to look nonchalant as only cats know how, they wend their way through gardens and over fences en-route to yet another of Uncle George's parties.

Every day that is, save for Sundays, when Aunt Bess insists on spending the entire day preening and sleeping, sleeping and preening while George reluctantly tidies the house. On weekdays, as visiting felines reach No 66, they cautiously approach a battered tin shed from various directions, hoping no one will notice. One by one they slink into gaps under the ramshackle building and make their way along channels of scrap timber planks towards THE CUT, a bored-out hare tunnel.

The sounds of piano playing, singing and raucous laughter can be heard as local felines make their way down the long slope of the tunnel. About 20 paces in, there is the entrance to a cottage built into the left-hand side wall of the tunnel, the green painted windows and front door are a welcoming sight.

Stationed at the door is Uncle George who warmly greets each guest. “Hello, welcome, good to see you, come on in,� he beckons each visitor, some of whom bear contributions the party. Inside, the lounge is spacious with black and white tiled floor behind which is a small bandstand with drums and piano.

To the left of the room is Aunt Bess's cast iron range on which she cooks endless supplies of muffins, teacakes and sometimes even pancakes.

Needless to say, felines are rather fond of the odd pancake filled with delicious cream! Highly noticeable claw marks on exposed wood provides evidence that guests feel very much at home, completely free to do whatever pleases them at any given moment.

The dancefloor area is brightly lit by a makeshift skylight created out of a piece of corrugated Perspex that sits atop a ventilation shaft terminating at the corner under the shed. This contrasts with the rest of the house which is full of dark alcoves and nooks where felines converse.

Most afternoons the band is augmented with horn and yakkety sax provided

by Ruben & Norbert who travel up from Madill Street. These musicians provide essential support when felines trip down memory lane enjoying jazz, swing and bebop music. At weekends and on special occasions the band is augmented by the Kit Chicks, a girl group who dress 1940s style with polka dots and bobby sox. Their signature piece is The Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy from Company B, a number that inspires impressive jitterbugging from a few of the more exuberant revelers!

George lives by the motto, “Every day is party day, so celebrate the joy of living.� He has boundless energy for merry-making although he does tend to be less energetic when it comes to chores that Aunt Bess finds for him. The cat kingdom is a hedonistic place where luxury and pleasure come before materialism. Unlike humans who seem hell-bent on destroying themselves with work, alcohol, tobacco and drugs, felines have the energy to party most days of the week, the secret being to do as little work as possible and avoid alcohol.

Some afternoons, George indulges the audience with a cabaret turn where he sends-up humans.

"How dare they refer to us felines of independent means as mere strays! Most of us independents have escaped from being half starved and abused by humans, yet it is they who claim to be superior. But ours is not to mock, for as long as humans THINK they are in control we can wind them around our smallest claw. These days they are all so preoccupied with smart-phones that they don't notice much at all, it almost makes exploitation too easy for us," says Uncle George with his trademark Cheshire grin.

Welcome Billy the Kid It is Billy the Kid's first visit and at 1.15pm he slinks off from the house on-top and makes his way to the Cheshire's place. He tentatively knocks at the door and is given the warmest greeting imaginable by George who says, "Come in Billy, I'll introduce you to the clan. The guests appear busy enjoying themselves and don’t take much notice of a black-tom kitten, but one by one George introduces Billy to the gathering. As they make their way around the room, Uncle George turns to Billy and whispers, "I say old chap, sad business about poor old Mr Horse. Lovely old gentleman, never had a bad word for anyone, but I noticed the last few times how difficult it was for him to walk. He never missed an afternoon, always sat with Miss Kitty, but when he missed 3 consecutive days, I knew something was up. Did a recce and saw him through the house ranch-slider, looking somewhat comatose I knew the end was nigh.

I hailed him as loudly as I could muster, but he didn't respond."

With typical feline spontaneity George suddenly dashed to the stage and with paws in the air, called everyone to order. "Hello felines!” The audience responded with the usual riposte, 'Hello George.' He smiled in a typical Cheshire way and continued, “Today we have great pleasure in welcoming young Billy to our throng. As you will be aware, there has been much sadness in the parish recently. Dear old Mr Horse was a great age, no one knew quite how old he was when he passed, but the dear chap eventually succumbed to the big "R". Yes, renal failure, a dreadful way for felines to exit, but thankfully, Her-on-Top allowed our dear friend to pass with minimal suffering. While on the subject, all you town dwellers will be aware that poor Bede passed in early middle age. Of course, being blind didn't help, but he did have Muschka the Grey Burmese as a

companion. The deaf white cat next door is apparently well, but a couple of dogs have settled into his house which means he now spends much of his time with Muschka over the fence. We'll have to drop in on them on our next night-time recce for kitchen supplies. Aunt Bess has a long list of things like flour, currants, sultanas, plum jam for the doughnuts, eggs and so on, that a night of delightful thievery is not far off! Yes gentlemen, volunteers will be needed!”

“But getting on to more immediate things, I want you all to give Billy the Kid a warm welcome! I'm sure Billy will become an active member of our community and hope to see him each afternoon.”

Billy, being a bit shy, was a tad embarrassed by the applause that ensued, but nonetheless managed to smile in the right places. Not exactly a broad faced Cheshire grin, more a demure, somewhat embarrassed smile from the taciturn new arrival on the scene.

George looking every bit like a ringmaster with bow tie and tailcoat, announced with outstretched paw, “So with no further ado its music maestro please!" A loud roar from the gathering responded to the first few bars of 'In the mood' a good old jazz standard from the swing era. The tea kept flowing and Aunt Bess was at her station busy buttering toasted teacakes as festivities continued. George circulated among guests sharing pleasantries and making sure he connected with everyone.

George Goes Visiting It is Sunday night at the Cheshire’s, Aunt Bess is already tucked up in bed and George lying beside her, looks aloft and muses at the ceiling. "I hate Sundays", he whispers under his breath.

"What was that"? Aunt Bess' unmistakable voice barked from beneath the blankets.

'Nothing dear, just talking to myself again.'

"First sign of madness George Cheshire, make no mistake. Now get your 'ead under the covers and let's get some sleep, there's another busy day tomorrow."

George slinked down beside Aunt Bess with a grin from ear to ear!

As soon as Aunt Bess had purred off to sleep, George deftly slid out of bed.

Tiredness was some way off, (due to the fact it had been Sunday and he therefore hadn't done much) so he crept out of the house, carefully closing the front door and proceeded up the burrow, along the piles of stacked wood under the shed until he reached the far end. A quick glance this way and that, checking the coast was clear, he made haste to Mr Horse's cat-door, more latterly occupied by Billy the Kid. He then crept inside the garage which housed a jet ski plus a large maroon motor car and called out in feline, "Are you there Billy", to which came an affirmative reply from the young larrikin. 'Yes I'm here Uncle George, do you fancy a bite to eat? There's a new lodger, an Indian chap by the name of Mr Singh. He's a big jolly fellow with a turban. Bit of a soft touch really, just a couple of whimpers and out comes the milk and biscuits.' Just then George spotted something out of the corner of his eye. Lo

and behold, a rather rotund Mr Singh dressed in calico coloured robes and matching turban stood in the doorway leading to the house. With arms folded and a gentle smile, the Eastern gentleman dispelled any fear George might have mistaken for imminent danger. Billy looked around and said, "Good job we're talking in feline, cos he wouldn't like to be thought of as a soft touch."

With that, Mr Singh retired to his room having made no attempt to eject George as an interloper. Billy turned to George and said, "I can get you something to eat if you're hungry. George replied, 'No, It's OK Billy, just needed to get some air and to talk to someone after such a long and dreary Sunday. Don't mind Sundays so much in summer when the sun is out and a nice warm spot can be found on-top, but in the winter, well, I'm just fair game for every little job that Aunt Bess can think up. In a few weeks-time, spring will arrive, so I guess you young fella will be looking forward to doing a bit of courting!'

Billy stared at Uncle George with a rather sad look and said, 'You must remember that I was,' Billy stammered, ' W-w-well, how do you say, doctored by the SPCA, which means of course that while I'm fond of ladies, that's as far as it goes.' George looked at Billy with a sad look and said, "humans have much to answer for with their sterilisation programmes."

Comedy Day The next day, Aunt Bess awoke feeling full of cheer. In time honoured fashion, Mondays was always Comedy Day, so Aunt Bess was going to take respite from the kitchen and do her turn. Being a west-country woman she rolled her “Rs” just like they do down on the farm. ‘Hey Joe-erje.’ she cried, How’s about us doing one of they duet things eh?’ George shook his head while trying to think up an excuse. Aunt Bess then remarked, ‘I needs to put a tray of muffins in the oven, us 'ave got a lot of mouths to feed this afternoon.

Around 1pm pianist and bandleader Marmaduke, sat himself down at the piano while Norbert wearing his trademark dark sunglasses played a few scales on his sax and Ruben did likewise on his horn. Aunt Bess already had the urn boiling and trays of cups laid-out ready for the party. Guests started rolling in and George was reassured to see Willard the drummer arrive.

Muttering to himself he said, “Can’t have music without a good solid beat.”

Proceedings started around 1.15 and by 2.00 pm the place was full. Uncle George introduced Aunt Bess' comedy turn which commenced with the traditional song, Widecombe Fair She’d done this number so many times that most of the audience could remember the words: All along, down along, out along lea.

For I want for to go to Widecombe Fair,

With Bill Brewer, Jan Stewer, Peter Gurney, Peter Davy, Dan'l Whiddon, Harry Hawke, Old Uncle Tom Cobley and all, Old Uncle Tom Cobley and all.

The feline audience wailed enthusiastically at the end of the performance.

Following rapturous applause, Aunt Bess wearing a floral pinafore, matching booties and turban entertained the audience with some humour.

‘How to get revenge on hoomins? I’ll tell ee, wait till it gets dark and go pee on their lettuces!’ ‘Her On-Top, she pointed upwards, is a right madam if ever there was one. Not so bad in summer when it’s hot, but in winter, hers got an 'abit of darn old lawn mowin in the afternoons just when weem 'aving our parties! If she keeps it up, well George and me might just go pay her a night visit when and make a contribution to her petrol tank.' The audience roared.

'You know, George is so clever, a lawn mower filler cap is no challenge for ‘im.

Us can get into her garage through Billy’s cat door. George shook his head as he never condoned human confrontation, so Bess quickly changed the subject. Here’s an alliteration teaser for you. The cat crept into the crypt, crapped and crept out again!’ The audience giggled and cheered.

'Now,' she said, 'I got to toast and butter some teacakes so I’ll finish off with this little number,' then went straight into a Stanley Holloway song: With a little bit of luck With a little bit of luck With a little bit of luck With a little bit of luck should see us through … slapping her thighs as she sang.

Next up was Marmaduke. The dentally challenged piano player, a scruffy looking ginger tom with matted coat grinned from behind his keyboard and introduced his act, “I am now going to perform a piece of music in the style of old Misery Guts, the guy I lodge with. He believes he's an accomplished piano

player, but to everyone else he seems, well, just a little tone deaf. Of course, that's in addition to being extreeeemely miserable. So let's see what you think!” The act brought lots of laughs and a quip from one feline who said he couldn't tell the difference between the two styles!

To round off the comedy set, it seemed befitting that Uncle George would sing a toff’ number. George said the song was about a posh chap who had fallen on hard times, but hadn't allowed it to change his way of life. A voice from the direction of the band sounding remarkably like Willard the drummer shouted, “Just like someone we know!”

Cat calls, whistles and cheers greeted the aside, but George with true feline aloofness said, “Music maestro please,” and launched into the song while strutting to and fro across the dance floor with head held high! After enthusiastic applause the party continued with the usual mixture of music and refreshments.

Doom & Darkness The following afternoon, the venue was busy as usual with everyone having a great time. Then, without warning, the voice of Her On-Top boomed from above with the noise of heavy planks of wood being shifted. Just as if a switch had been clicked, everything went dark in the Cheshire home. Bess grabbed George in desperation who in turn summoned silence. Everyone froze as if they had been preserved in aspic! George in hushed tones said he suspected that 'madam' had moved a large plank of wood and placed it atop of the seethrough acrylic corrugated which formed their skylight. Although just randomly shoved under the shed by humans, the see-through panel had provided light to the entire lounge and kitchen area of the Cheshire residence. Despite the confusion, George tiptoed across the room and looked aloft. He stretched up on his hind legs, while Bess whimpered, “Oh, do be careful George�. With a giant leap George launched himself into the light shaft and nosed his way to the top. Peering all around from under the obscuring plank of wood, he could see human feet wandering around. There was a chap getting a petrol mower out while Her On-Top, an amazon with large hands and feet started banging nails into a wooden fence.

Meanwhile, down below in the murky darkness, young Alice wailed a sad lament:

Why do they do this to us Why don’t they leave us alone What they do is unjust One day, they too might need a free home Meanwhile George continued to observe. He could see Her On-Top had dragged palings from beneath the iron shed, but by disturbing the stored timber had completely blocked out the skylight. George pulled his head back down the light shaft and leapt back on to the dance floor narrowly missing a table full of cups and food by a whisker.

‘Getting a bit old for this sort of thing,’ George muttered to himself, before giving a reassuring proclamation to the gathering in Churchillian style.

‘Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, let us not get too dismayed by what has happened. Much as I dislike Her On-Top as do you all, she isn’t aware of our presence and doesn’t need to. If, and I repeat if, the obstruction isn’t moved by nightfall, we’ll put together a commando force to deal with the issue.

Can’t have things like this ruining our afternoons can we!'

There were muted cheers from the audience.

'We’ll just have to use a bit of initiative and move the impediment, no matter how big it maybe. Remember, many paws make light work.' George spoke like a true leader.

At that moment a lawn mower started up, so George declared the noise restriction lifted. With muted grin he said, 'Felines, we can see in the dark, so we'll keep our spirits high and have a singsong. What do you suggest Marmaduke? The piano player leaned against the piano and mused. He then played a rousing intro and launched into song with his usual scratchy voice: We'll sing in the sunshine We'll laugh at the rain,

We'll sing in the sunshine To help us on our way Despite the gloom, spirits were lifted and everyone joined in the song. When finished, George crept on to the dance-floor, but just as he was about to speak, the booming voice of Her On-Top was heard to say "shove" followed by, "that's got it" as she managed to push an old step ladder back under the shed.

"What was that", asked Her-On-Top to her handyman. “I could 'ave sworn I heard a loud cheer just then. Must be those feral cats next door," she mused.

Down below, the sight of daylight having been restored was a joy to behold, George and Bess started a jig and everyone joined in, linking paws and celebrating the return of daylight. Celebrations continued until Uncle George's hip gave-out due to over-exertion which forced him to sit down and watch from the sidelines.

A Bad Penny!

A couple of days later, Aunt Bess was busying herself getting things ready for the afternoon while members of the band filed in one by one and commenced their ritual tune-up. Without warning Aunt Bess exploded, "What the 'ell is he doin' 'ere.'

She pointed a finger at Dudley who had been escorted in by Norbert who immediately sprang to Dudley's defence with, "Come on Aunt Bess, give Dudley a break. He's on the straight and narrow now and has promised he's through with licking beer bottles down the Cossie Club.”

Dudley, a scrawny specimen of the feline breed if there ever was one, did his best to look as innocent as only he knew how. Standing there in a warn, but fancy waistcoat and yellow neck scarf, he produced a harp from his top pocket and started playing a riff. Marmaduke sat at the piano said, 'the hobo returns', reinforcing the statement with a few loud piano chords whereupon an impromptu jam session ensued.

"Look, 'ee's done it again,” screamed Aunt Bess.

“That scoundrel has crept his way back in again, despite a lifetime ban.”

“I'm sure you'll all remember last time when he got too familiar with the ladies.”

Bess leered at Dudley.

“You make sure you mind your behaviour Dudley, cos I'm a watchin' your every little move and if I see the tiniest misdemeanour, I'll chase ee out with a carving knife!'

As if to spite Aunt Bess, Dudley swapped harps and swung into a solo rendition of 'Water Melon Man' to the joy of everyone save for Aunt Bess!

At five minutes to one, George was ready at his station as greeter. Bess was busy in the kitchen and Marmaduke was tuning the piano. He would strike a key then delve into the works via with a large spanner and make an adjustment. He'd play the note two or three times, shake his head and adjust

again. This ritual continued across all octaves until he was satisfied the piano was in tune. He then played a few scales just to satisfy himself that everything was as it should be.

At the stroke of one, just as Spider and Julia from Elizabeth Street arrived, George with his disarming Cheshire grin hailed, "Music Maestro Please."

Marmaduke casting a figure of a worn-out teddy bear with coat heading in all directions, immediately sprang into action. The most effective songs to get things moving were numbers such as Benny and the Jets, Crocodile Rock and Oobla Di. Hitting those first few notes by lifting his paws as high as his head made each chord more emphatic which implored the attention of one and all.

Marmaduke wasn't the best singer around, a bit pitchy on occasions, but his keyboard prowess and general enthusiasm made his performances irresistible. How he lost most of his front teeth remained a mystery, although someone suggested it might have been the work of a VEE EE TEE! Accompanied by Willard on the drums, the party got into full swing in no time at all. After the first number, George welcomed everyone and reiterated that the Cat Kingdom didn't need excuses or religious festivals to have a good time. "The feline hedonist has fun anytime, anywhere, so help yourselves to tea and grab some hot scones that Aunt Bess is buttering."

Later that day, long after everyone had gone home, Aunt Bess curled herself up on her chaise longue, but had difficulty settling. She wandered around the house a couple of times feeling something wasn't right. 'There's a presence in this house, make no mistake George Cheshire. We are not alone.' George replied, "Oh don't be silly Bess, I had a good look around and locked up as I always do, so there's nothing to worry about." Aunt Bess retorted, 'NOTHING my foot.' Suddenly, she shot across the floor in the direction of the piano whereupon a hideous scream ensued as a hapless Dudley was dragged from behind the piano by the tail. Spitting with fury, Bess dragged the hapless hobo all the way across the dance floor, down the stairs and out the front door.

She swung Dudley with every ounce of strength she could muster, making sure the squealing miscreant went flying through the air. "Stay away from my house you useless bum," she said, slamming the door.

Needless to say, resilience is a special quality the feline fraternity has an abundance of. Dudley shook himself from head to toe, checked his mouth organs were still in his pocket then headed up the tunnel!

Posh Sisters On Saturday afternoon, amidst the usual glee, the Cheshire household was blessed with a visit from two Burmese sisters, Hermione and Alice. They had travelled all the way from their posh house in Dominion Rd and on arriving, were in need of refreshment. "Make way for honoured guests," exclaimed a jubilant George, delighted to see his affluent friends. Hermione and Alice luxuriated in the status of being family pets, but nonetheless kept close contact with the independent community.

When things quietened down, Marmaduke pounded the keyboard with "Saturday" by Elton John while Norbert switched to guitar. Shaking his head and pounding the beat with his foot, Marmaduke was in his element, however the faces of the refined Burmese sisters was not altogether approving.

When it was time for the musicians to take a break, George invited Hermione to give a little talk as she often did about "worldly" matters. She hopped on to the stage and waved enthusiastically to one and all!

"Hello felines," roared Hermione.

"Must give you an update on the human world. At our house, the humans have gone and purchased the most enormous television screen. Must be two stretched cats at least!

I said to Alice, “The shop must have seen them coming selling a TV with a bent screen! Anyway felines, Alice and I are permitted to curl up in front of this huge monster, but I have to tell you, much of the stuff they show is violent and bloodthirsty, I sometimes have to shield poor Alice's eyes from the horrors. It amazes me how humans can sit for hours, watching their own kind being shot and tortured. You know felines, they don't bat an eyelid at anything, they just sit there watching dreadful stuff over and over. I sometimes change channels when they go for a pee, but inevitably they change back after returning."

"Anyone who feels hard-done-by getting the occasional kick up the arse from a human, needs to remember just how cruel and spiteful these humans really can be. What they do to each other is unbelievable, we see it night after night on CNN, don't we Alice?” Alice nodded in agreement.

“Most of it happens in foreign lands where opposing breeds drop bombs and fire huge guns at each other. So, felines we must never get lulled into a sense of false security when it comes to humans. Burmese folklore says that in olden times our ancestors were butchered to make Davy Crocket hats."

The audience gasped with disgust.

Hermione continued, “I say, thank goodness it is only humans and baboons who wage war on each other.”

“Which reminds me; What do humans have at one end and baboons have at the other? “ “Yes, that's right Billy, red cheeks! Mind you, human cheeks are uglier."

The audience roared and clapped paws in appreciation as Hermione exited stage right and returned to Alice.

Trouble At Mill A few days after the incident with Dudley, Norbert turned up as usual at around five minutes to one with Dudley tugging his coat-tail, in a manner of speaking.

Norbert being a "tom" of few words, expressed himself through music with saxophone or guitar. The pair walked in, bade good day to Uncle George who wasn't quite sure of how to greet them, for fear that a flurry of feline fury was about to explode. Suddenly a voice boomed, "What the 'ell is that scoundrel doing 'ere," spat Aunt Bess with her paws grabbing her hips.”

Norbert responded, 'We're here to make music as we always do,' Alas, Bess wasn't listening. Her Cheshire face, wide and expressive was full of indignation.

"This 'ouse is for 'onorable cats, not common 'obos," she exclaimed with anger.

"Well if that’s the way you are going to behave, we’ll be off" said a rather indignant Norbert, resplendent in his trademark sunglasses.

The long, lean, clever musician, friend of everyone, foe of none didn't respond to Bess' anger, choosing to walk rather than fight. Dudley followed him out making strange rhythmical noises, by puffing and hissing, beatbox style. The indignant males made their way up the slope and paused at the top. Norbert got out his sax, Dudley joined in and they gigued on the driveway. The newly acquired beatbox skill together with sax delighted revelers as they made their way down to the Cheshires'. Seeing an opportunity, Dudley placed his cap on the floor.

Inside the Cheshire home, confusion reigned. Willard the drummer waited for Marmaduke to strike his first massive chords, but today Marmie was upset and delayed proceedings by messing around with piano tuning, muttering to

himself in his inimitable way that no good comes from strife. Meanwhile, George and Bess were hammer and tongue over banning Dudley.

George exclaimed, "You'll break-up our community if you continue to impose Draconian rules of law on musicians. They won't stand for it."

But Bess seemed unmoved.

Suddenly, in an unpredictable way that only felines know how, Marmaduke raised his paws in the air and commenced hitting the chords of Benny and the Jets with all his might. Da-da, da-da, da da da da da, da-da da-da, Hey kids take a little listen......... Willard joined in and the music prevailed!

Without saying a word to anyone, Aunt Bess, having heard about the buskers above, buttered a couple of teacakes and placed same on to a metal tray along with a couple of cups. She marched passed George who stood in his meet and greet position, went out the front door proceeded up the slope to present Norbert and Dudley with refreshments.

"Now Dudley, are you going to show me your beatbox skills?" The outcast didn't need much encouraging and broke into a rhythm which Norbert followed on Sax. Despite her erstwhile misgivings, Bess had to admit that such music had a place in the house and diplomatically managed to persuade the boys back inside. Dudley swaggered into the house carrying the tray as high as he could manage, looking just like the cat that had stolen the cream!

Reggie Gets Transported Next day Marmaduke arrived early, not that he was ever late, but today he was forlorn and sad. His teddy-bear coat looked more matted than usual and the gummy countenance seemed all the more pronounced. Willard was setting up drums and couldn't help but notice a wistful look of the piano player. "What's up with you Marmie? Looks like you've lost a dollar and found ten cents."

Marmie peered at the drummer full of gloom, 'Ah Willard, tis a sad day for me and make no mistake. It's almost worse than when my wife Lucy got hit by a stock truck. I was devastated then and am much the same today. You know, Reggie is my only relative in town, but humans have hauled him off to Papatoetoe.

He won't like it there I can tell you. I just don't think I'll ever see him again.'

'Ah don't be too pessimistic Marmie, ' said a kindly Willard.

'You know as well as I do that when us felines reject a move, we can leg it back from whence we came.'

With sad eyes, Marmaduke looked at Willard and said, "I would like to think you're right Willard, but I'm led to believe it's an impossible journey through an urban jungle of Manukau City, crisscrossed by motorways, not to mention the distance. No, it's out of the question Willard, Reggie has gone and I'm all sad!

Oh woe is me."

Old Marmie sobbed a little, and went back to his piano. Instead of the usual upbeat stuff he gently played Ebb Tide made famous by Erroll Garner. Those ladies who knew the words formed an impromptu choir and joined in the song as a lament to Reggie!

Reggie had never been overly keen on going to the Cheshire's. Being young, he preferred to hang-out his alley-cat mates who frequented the streets of

town, making nuisances of themselves wherever they went. Not that it made any difference to Marmaduke, he simply adored Reggie. But now Reggie was gone and as far as he could tell, Marmie had seen the last of his beloved son.

Weeks went by and nothing was heard of Reggie. Marmie gradually accepted the inevitability of the situation and despite a broken heart, put on a brave face and simply got on with life.

Marie Celeste Twas a cold Saturday lunchtime at the end of August when the elegant Delores decided to look up her pals at the Cheshire home. She hadn't been well, so had stayed out of circulation for a couple of weeks. Although the weather wasn't the best, she decided to make the trip from Elizabeth Street and enjoy some feline bonhomie. After hopping the fence of No 66, Gibson Road she couldn't help but notice the newly installed cat-wire which had turned a perfectly good toilet into a vegetable garden!

Felines have never been fond of vegetables, so no one in the cat kingdom would give a second thought about uprooting Swiss chard and lettuces! But now it was out of bounds!

"So be it," said Delores and made her way under the old tin shed and along beside the ladder to the tunnel way leading to the Cheshire residence.

She mused to herself, "Seems a bit quiet, strange nobody’s around.”

At this time of day, the place would usually be busy with guests and musicians, but today it was silent. Delores wondered for a moment if she had got the days mixed up and had called on a Sunday. Even with the loudest banging on the Cheshire front door there was no sign of life anywhere. Then a horrific thought passed through her mind.

Had Animal Control wiped out the community?

“No, that can't happen to the Cheshire’s,” she reassured herself. They're far too smart for jack-booted fascists.

"Ah what do I do with these fairy cakes, she asked herself. “Maybe leave them on the shelf by the door with a little note,” she whispered to herself, then tore a page out of her diary to write a message.

Dearest Bess and George

Was so looking forward to seeing you all today. Don't know whether you've heard, but I've been laid low with a touch of cat flu. Today I was feeling a bit better and thought that a few cups of tea and some good cheer, would brighten me up.

Leaving the cakes for you to enjoy.

Trust nothing is wrong.

Love Delores Just then a scruffy looking cat appeared playing a mouth organ.

"Oh you gave me such a fright creeping up on me like that."

Dudley shook his head and continued to play a blues riff. As soon as he stopped, Delores asked him where everyone was.

'They been to a foonral, but they'll be here in a minute or two.'

With that, he broke into his beat-box routine and somehow managed to accompany his own harmonica playing.

"What a clever chap you are," said Delores.

'What's your name,’ Delores enquired.

'I'm Dudley, that's when I'm good, but when I gets on the wrong side of Aunt Bess she calls me scoundrel!'

Suddenly, a feline appeared out of nowhere. It was Uncle George delighted at seeing Delores again. He wrapped his paws around the queen as if he hadn't seen her in years.

"Oh it's so good to see you Delores, bet you got a shock at not seeing us here when you arrived".

'Oh, that I did,' said Delores, 'But I'm so glad to see you George.'

'You know, young Dudley here has been entertaining me with his musical

tricks.'

"Did you like his beatbox," asked George.

'Absolutely,' replied Delores, as mine-host escorted her into the house closely followed by Aunt Bess dressed in her black coat. She declared, "Come on everyone, I'll get the billy on and once the range is goin, I have some nice scones for 'ee all. See I made em before us went out this mornin.�

Inside, things became hectic, with felines rushing around like an Arabian marketplace. However, within a couple of minutes the band had set up and the urn was boiling. Uncle George in usual ringmaster style, addressed the audience, emphasising how much they needed cheering up and summoned Marmaduke with, "Music maestro please."

The first chords of Tchaikovsky broke the silence. A sombre musical choice, but within a few bars the music morphed into Marmaduke's interpretation of B Bumble and the Stingers "Nut Rocker" with Willard joining in on the drums.

Marmaduke turned around and gave a toothless grin to the audience who lapped it up. They needed a bit of cheer after Alfred's funeral and this was just the ticket. A bunch of young queens stood in a circle and danced around their bags as if each had the crown jewels inside. Delores, Hermione and Alice watched in awe of the young felines. Aunt Bess came around with a tray of goodies and paused awhile to observe the dancing. At the end of the number, George addressed the audience saying that despite the passing of poor old Alfred, this particular afternoon was going to be a celebration of his life, not a miserable wake.

Next it was Willard's turn to take front stage. With Norbert doubling up on guitar, the very second that Willard, the smoky short-haired, hit the skins with Let there be drums the atmosphere became “electric.�

The audience was mesmerised by the beat and the floor soon filled with revelers. The precocious Kit-Chicks responded to the infectious rhythms with an improvised dance routine much to the amusement of older felines.

At the end of the number, Dudley took the mic, Norbert went back to tenor sax alongside Ruben on horn and a splendid rendition of Road Runner ensued. At the end of the number, the band took a break and headed over to Aunt Bess for jam doughnuts and hot tea. Uncle George overwhelmed by the performance, leapt on to the stage and urged the audience to give it up for the musicians.

The response was tumultuous. Even “Her On-Top” could have heard it!

This was a very special send-off for Alfred, celebrating the life of a venerated member of the independent feline fraternity. A long break ensued where lots of sugar and plum jam could be observed flying around from hot doughnuts. After a communal lick and preen to remove the residue, the band returned to the stage, Dudley took the mic and did a very spirited version of Billy Stewart's Summer Time. He had no problem managing the vibrato bit at each end of the song. A couple of jazz standards ensued, before Aunt Bess took the stage and read a tribute to Alfred.

“Alfred was the noblest of felines. Gracious in movement, lithe and smooth haired, always held his head high, even in old age. Yes, the town will be the poorer for the loss of the gentleman from Siam. May you rest in peace Alfred” Around the room were mutterings of 'here here' before Uncle George took the mic to pay a short impromptu tribute to Alfred. He placed himself centre-stage and sang the Reverend Al Green song, 'Let's Stay Together'.

Many of the girls were moved to tears by Uncle George's caterwauling during the rendition, but the boys remained stoic.

Wet Sunday The following Sunday morning, Aunt Bess luxuriated on her bed paying the most intricate attention to her Persian coat. George systematically tidied up the dance floor, the stage and around the tables and chairs where felines would huddle. The weather outside was pestilent, which seemed befitting for a miserable Sunday. He mentioned to Bess that it was a blessing that no poor feline would have to venture out and get a soaking.

However, at around 11.00am Marmaduke knocked the door. In keeping with Aunt Bess' decree, the door remained bolted on the Sabbath. George answered it and said, “I almost forgot about you Marmie, come on in.”

The bandleader was there to do some maintenance work on his piano. Armed with a bag of tools he set to work and in no time at all the piano was in bits.

Marmaduke checked the dampers along with all the other stuff, making adjustments here and there.

“It's a big job George,” said Marmie.

'Can see that,' George replied.

Marmie looked at George and said, “Had a bit of fun with old misery guts earlier.

It was raining a bit too hard to venture out, so I snuck into the lounge and hit the piano. It's a big instrument to stretch across more than 2 octaves, but anyway, I started playing a few boogie-woogie scales on the bass keys.

Nothing spectacular, but enough to rark-up Old Misery Guts.

“Where's that row coming from,” he said bursting into the lounge. By then of course I was sat by the window looking all innocent and waiting to be fed. He marched out and asked his wife Ethel if she'd been playing the devil's music

on a Sunday.

George laughed and said, “You're a crafty feline if ever there was one Marmie.”

Maramaduke continued, 'Anyway, I waited a couple of minutes and played boogie woogie again and old Misery Guts went ballistic.'

“Ethel, if I catch anyone playing that music, God help them.”

'He burst into the lounge again, glanced at the piano, looked at me, I smiled back and he stormed out again. No sooner was he gone than I went back and played Colonel Bogie, you know the one, Hitler has only got one ball, Goering has two but very small, Himmler has something similar, but poor old Goebbels has no balls at all.'

'Anyway, discretion being the better part of valour, I disappeared under the sofa just in time before Misery Guts reappeared. He shook his head in disbelief saying, “Where's that damned cat?” and then did something very peculiar. He locked the piano lid and walked off with the key!

“Do you think he suspects I can play?” asked Marmaduke.

“Don't know Marmie, but you are certainly giving him the run-around,” said George.

Marmaduke continued working as he spoke and lamented how he had taught his beloved Reggie to play on that piano. He had hoped that one day the pair would perform duets here at the club, 'But the Papatoetoe disaster put an end to that,' Marmaduke wailed, with his lower jaw quivering.

'Old Misery Guts didn't have a clue I was using his beloved grand for piano lessons, while he was busy at work.'

'Meant to say George, saw a nasty sight this morning. An elderly black and white short hair had been run down and was lying there in in the road. Ghastly,

I can tell you.'

'You know George, you must warn felines at our get-togethers about the dangers of roaming at night. I know those young toms are getting a bit amorous this time of year, but the need for care is paramount. Cars travel so fast and their lights are so dazzling, we don't have a chance if we're not careful,' lamented Marmaduke in a rather contemplative way.

George responded, “You know more about loss and grieving than all of us Marmie.”

The piano player, with tears in his eyes said, 'Losing Reggie really was the last straw, all I have left now is my music.'

George reassured Marmaduke, saying that the entire feline community adored him, despite his lack of teeth, winking at the old stager as he spoke.

A reassured Marmie said, 'Nice to hear you say that George, nice to hear it.'

Marmaduke continued with his work while George went back to his cleaning.

Later that afternoon, Aunt Bess emerged and dreamily asked the boys if they wanted a cup of tea and a bite to eat.

“It's a yes from me,” said George, giving a typical Cheshire grin, “And I bet it's a yes from you as well.”

'That would be very nice Bess,' came a plaintive voice from under the piano.

Soon the three of them were sat at the breakfast bar which separated the kitchen from the dance floor.

'Toast is nice,' said Marmaduke, Bess replied, “That's all I'm doing on a lick-n-preen day, apart from cups of tea.”

After they had finished eating, George remarked how quiet the place was, which caused Aunt Bess to explode. “Don't start that lark again George Cheshire, we must have at least one lick-n-preen day a week, so be careful or I'll extend it to two days a week, then you'd 'ave something to grizzle about.”

Bess declared the matter closed and returned to her lick-n-preen, Marmaduke went back to the piano while George slunk off to somewhere quiet.

Billy Comes Clean Early on Monday morning, George awoke around 6.00 am just before the dawn chorus. Answering a call of nature he slunk off out the front door and lo and behold, there was young Billy the Kid curled up in a ball.

"What are you doing here this time of day young Billy," asked George. Billy, in an apologetic way said, 'I hope I didn't wake you Uncle George, I was really quiet,' said a youthful Billy in his high-pitched adolescent voice.

George replied, “No that's OK Billy, I'm always happy to see you, but if you would just excuse me a second, I've got some lettuces to water,� winking his eye as he made his way up the slope and out into the daylight.

He returned full of smiles eager to know what Billy had to say.

'So what brings you here this time of the morning Billy.'

"I don't really know what causes it uncle, but I'm a real early riser and that's what got me banished from Her on-Top's bedchamber!"

George looked at Billy with a quizzical eye and said, 'Getting in trouble with Her On-Top, that's not the best.'

Billy smiled and said, "A couple of weeks ago, I got into a nasty scrape with her. You see I woke up early to find that big slapper of a dog Astrid, snoring away incessantly. You know Uncle, dogs and humans make the most dreadful noises when they sleep, why can't they purr just like us?" Billy asked.

Uncle George thought for a second and said, 'We can't all be noble felines, can we!

'Being feline is the most-noble state. Far too good for humans and snoring

dogs, eh Billy?'

'But tell me what happened in the bedchamber.'

“Oh I just got a bit bored after being awake for a while and the irresistible urge to scratch came over me. Unfortunately, I ran my claws through the hair of Her On-Top and the next thing I knew was colliding with the back of her hand before being frog-marched out of the chamber."

George smiled a bit and enquired as to the time of night this unfortunate event took place and Billy replied, "About four."

'About four,' exclaimed George.

'It's a wonder you got off so lightly.'

Billy continued, "Yes, but I've copped a lifetime ban from the bedchamber for disruptive behaviour, so there's no more snuggling up against Astrid on cold nights. No, I have to sleep in the lounge now."

'Don't know about you Billy, but I fancy a fresh bird for breakfast. Sadly Aunt Bess won't hear of it. She says we have to leave those instincts behind us and be considerate to all living creatures. In the old days we would lurk around looking small, wait for the sparrows and starlings to descend for the early worms then with stealth we would pounce!'

'A starling makes a hearty breakfast you know, sets a cat up for the day, but I guess we'll just have to go inside and see what Aunt Bess will prepare for us.'

'You are staying for breakfast aren't you?'

"Yes, please if that's OK with you. Will make a nice change from milk and biscuits," said Billy. .

With that, George opened the green front door and the two toms disappeared inside.

“Fancy some porridge with a gert big dollop of jam Billy”, asked Aunt Bess, still looking tired after awaking from a deep sleep.

'Oh yes please Auntie, that would be lovely.’ Billy continued, ‘Seeing you both

so happy makes me envious of the independent way of life, but my lot really isn't too bad. Big Astrid, despite being a canine has become a good friend and generates lots of warmth whenever it's needed. She got a bit mad at me recently when I snuggled up and gently slid my head under her flappy ear!'

'I forgot that my purring inside her ear would upset her.'

“Must have sounded like a steam train,” said Uncle George.

After they'd finished eating, Aunt Bess gave Billy the hurry-up as she had lots to do before the day's party.

“Yes, every day's a party day except Sundays for us felines. We don't need no hoomin excuses for 'avin' a good time. We're felines, blessed in the art of good living,” said Aunt Bess.

Billy took his leave after thanking his hosts and headed home.

The Show Must Go On Twas a cold, wet and windy morning, a few days after the spring equinox. A significant time of year for felines who are at their most amorous! However, this morning was like no other, with gales unlike any in living memory. Uncle George looked at Bess and mused, "Don't think many will turn up in this filthy weather."

Despite being below ground, far away from the storm, the sound of rain hitting the tin shed above was deafening while the Perspex skylight of the dance floor rattled furiously. Bess sidled up to George and commiserated.

"Looks like just me and thee this afternoon, I don't think we'll be seein' anyone else."

George sprang to his feet in typical feline indignation, placed paws on hips, looked upward and decreed, 'We felines are made of sterner stuff, the troops will be here don't worry.'

Over a quiet cuppa, Bess mentioned to George that Marmaduke's choice of music recently was "all that 'bang and crash' stuff.

Looked bemused she asked, “Why don't we get some nice jazzy numbers or an occasional ballad, you knows what I means."

George leant over, placed a paw around the shoulder of his wife and whispered in a sagely way that Marmaduke was fighting melancholy.

"Poor chap is missing Reggie, therefore anything with an element of sadness will reduce the poor boy into a wailing wreck! Now we can't have that from the bandleader, so we must tough-it-out alongside him and understand that rockn-roll is his way to counteract the blues.'

Bess shook her head and muttered, "I suppose so."

The two of them continued to go through the motions of preparing for a party that probably wouldn't happen, but as the minutes rolled by, the wind dropped

a bit and the rain eased. Just then the front opened and in came a halfdrowned Marmaduke looking even more bedraggled than ever.

"Morning George, morning Bess, filthy weather eh! Might as well get things ready just in case the others turn up.�

He sat down at the piano and started writing a song list when George shouted, "Make sure you start with a rousing number to get us all the right mood Marmie."

Marmaduke didn't look up as he wrote things down, then crossed them out, wrote more things down and so on. "That's already taken care of, provided Dudley shows up as we'll need a thumping bass and some synthesized voicing from his beatbox. Bess look at the ceiling, shook her head in a less than approving manner, "Yes, Dudley," As the morning wore on the weather eased, and one by one the toms and queens came out to play. Among the first to arrive were Hermione and Alice from Dominion Road and not far behind was Delores. Hermione twirled a fancy pink umbrella she had borrowed from the children's room at her house.

"Rather swank, don't you think George, winking an eye!�

'Absolutely,' said George with a big Cheshire grin.

In no time at all, despite the earlier rain and gales, the Cheshire home was bursting at the seams once more. Ruben and Norbert were warming up with a few scales while Willard did a few quiet drum rolls and Dudley being Dudley, made beatbox noises that reverberated all around the house, confusing everyone. The air was full of anticipation so George got up on stage, looked across to Bess who was busy brewing tea and baking crumpets. She gave an affirmative nod that everything was under control, so George welcomed the crowd.

"Felines, I am most proud that so many of you braved the weather.�

The audience concurred and George continued,

"Well ladies and gentlemen, our musical director has assured us that he has the right number to get us all into a hedonistic mood. Aunt Bess will have lots of hot tea and baked crumpets for you, so there's nothing more to say than, “Music maestro please!�

With that, Dudley started making noises of rain, Willard got a beat going and then Marmaduke with his big ginger grin pounded the ivory and burst into song with Mr Bluesky Delores joined Hermione and Alice and together they did some impromptu vocal accompaniment, standing in for the Kit-Chicks who were at school. Halfway through the song, Norbert swapped tenor sax for guitar and did some nifty licks to the delight of one and all.

Melancholy - The loneliness of Miss Kitty Aunt Bess awoke late one Sunday morning and indulged herself in a ritual lick and preen. Heavily into licking one paw, nibbling at hairs between the first two claws, then on to the next, then another and suddenly, completely out of the blue she turned and said, “George somethin's bin worryin me. You know, we 'aven't seen Miss Kitty in ages. To be honest, I don't think us 'ev seen her since Mr Horse passed away last summer. You know, I feels terrible about it. As far as I knows, none of us 'as bothered to go and see if she's alright. She is such a dear lady, us must do somethin.�

George puffed out his chest and responded, 'Bess you're right, I'll bring the matter up at the next U-OFF lodge meeting. We simply can't let older felines be ignored. As Grand Lodge Master I need to ensure that members adhere to the policy of public service. Ladies like Miss Kitty, victims of sterilisation programmes have no family at all, so we need to rally around.' Bess frowned and said, "George weem goin across they fields this afternoon. Now move along and I'll put on some teacakes and maybe us'll pick her a few flowers on the way."

George looked dismayed at the thought of tramping over fields and picking wild flowers which seemed totally at-odds with his urbane way of life, but nonetheless the lady of the house had spoken!

The pair set off around midday with Bess carrying a wicker basket full of baking. Only two garden fences had to be hopped before they were in paddocks. Today, instead of heading north in the direction where the Terrible Trio resided, they headed east towards the railway line and Miss Kitty's little cottage. They rapidly made their way across paddocks quietly acknowledging a few cows before reaching the railway embankment. George held Bess' basket while she picked a posy of wild flowers including campion, buttercup

and daisies. The pair then scrambled up the embankment and looked both ways before crossing the main trunk-line to Wellington. They rapidly descended down the other side and headed towards an abandoned long-drop hut that permanent-way engineers had constructed back in the day.

On the far side of the hut they could see Miss Kitty using a wicker carpet beater on a rug. They called out to her and Miss Kitty waved back enthusiastically. Soon there were hugs all round and Bess handed over the baking and flowers, “I've brought these little things for 'ee as you 'avent been to any parties lately Miss Kitty.”

Miss Kitty, a well-marked black and white, looked prim and proper with pince nez spectacles perched on the end of her nose. She grabbed the rug and hurriedly placed it back into her little home before inviting her guests in. She then put the kettle on and it wasn't long the three felines were sat around an old-fashioned white-scrubbed table while Bess buttered the buns.

“Oh you'll like these 'ere teacakes Miss Kitty, they'm still warm.” Missy Kitty nodded in approval.

While enjoying afternoon tea, George mentioned how they had missed Miss Kitty at the parties. She replied in a melancholy way saying that after Mr Horse passed, she felt lonely going on her own.

“I continued to sit on the same little seat in the alcove I shared with Mr Horse, but no one seemed to notice me save for the occasional wave and smile. I attended a couple of times on my own then decided my days of partying were over. When you get old, younger felines just don't seem to see you. It is though you are invisible, it's quiet distressing in some ways. Although I guess you just have to get used to your own company when your friends pass away one by one. I do a few home-crafts and keep myself busy around here,” she said pointing to her white pinnie, some embroidered cushions and a table runner. She then looked down at the rug and said,

“I beat that rug at least 3 times a week, a bit silly really when I'm the only one living here, but I suppose it helps pass the time.”

Aunt Bess looked at Miss Kitty and enquired whether she had many visitors.

Miss Kitty smiled and said, “Well I get visits from one young man who spends some time here with me.

Bess looked at her and asked, “And whom might that be?”

Miss Kitty, almost too shy to say, said, “Well young Dudley pops in some afternoons when he doesn't attend the parties.”

Aunt Bess fumed at the thought and looked as if she was going to explode, “That scoundrel Dudley coming in here making a nuisance of himself, scrounging off a dear lady like you. George us 'ave got fix 'im once and for all.”

She made a throat slitting gesture with her paw and left no one in doubt of her sentiments.

Miss Kitty smiled wistfully and said, “Oh Bess I do wish you would try to be nicer to Dudley. He's almost the only feline who bothers with me. He even brings in the occasional starling for my evening meal. I can't catch them these days with my eyesight and creaky bones. You wouldn't believe it, but we have some delightful afternoons over a cup of tea. Dudley doesn't say much, just sits there playing lots of old tunes on his mouth organ. It brings back happy memories for me. Oh, he makes me laugh when he does that beatboxing thing, he huffs and puffs just like the steam trains used to. No, he's a nice lad really, but I must admit his cheekiness does get him on the wrong side of people sometimes.”

Bess looked at Miss Kitty and said, 'Are you sure you want that scoundrel coming round 'ere, you don't think he's taking advantage do you?'

“No Bess, he's not taking advantage, the lad has a kind heart and brightens my day. If he didn't bother with me, I'd wait a long time for someone else to

visit.”

At that moment, Bess turned her head and frowned at George who nodded back with a look of guilt!

Miss Kitty continued, “Occasionally I wander down the line into town to gather a few bits and pieces and meet up with the urban felines, but Dudley is my only real visitor apart from yourselves.”

Bess stared hard at George and said, “We need to visit more often.”

She then turned to Miss Kitty and said, “You know we'd love to see you again at one or two parties. Maybe next time you come up to the house you could lend a paw in the kitchen, cos I gets real busy with everyone wantin' buns and tea.”

Miss Kitty smiled and said, “That would be nice.” They continued to reminisce about the old days, but all too soon the visitors had to leave Miss Kitty's cottage before it got too dark.

They bade fond farewells before the Cheshires' headed up the embankment.

Miss Kitty cast a lonely silhouette standing in her doorway watching George and Bess disappear over the horizon.

The Night Raid!

Food stocks had been running low so Uncle George appealed for volunteers to go on a sortie. Billy the Kid was first to put up his paw followed closely by Marmaduke who said he needed to keep his mind occupied after the loss of Reggie. Eventually George managed a full muster of six cats who all rested up at the Cheshire house until midnight whereupon the mob silently slithered through gardens, over fences, across roofs to avoid detection. They mustered at the park on George Street close to the Town Hall and eyed up Styles Dairy on the corner of Madill Street. Norbert went on reconnaissance and confirmed a skylight was open above the kitchen at the back of the place. The humans were all in bed and it was simply a case of getting in there, raiding the pantry and shop, then haul the booty home.

One by one the boys lowered themselves down into the kitchen via the skylight. Billy and Marmaduke made their way towards the shop while George and Norbert raided the pantry. Willard acted as lookout and everything went to plan. Swag bags were being filled at a rapid rate until an unfortunate mishap in the kitchen sent a saucepan flying and awoke the entire Styles family. George gave a signal to abort, (not that he need to as everyone was already beating a hasty retreat) and one by one the heavily ladened cats exited through the skylight and disappeared into the night. Everyone that was, except young Billy who lost his grip on the rim of the skylight and would have fallen into the arms of Mr Styles, were it not for a couple of half-pike turns that spun him out of harm's way. Alas the respite was brief and he had to use all his cunning and agility to evade capture in the face of an angry Styles family. He escaped out of the kitchen and up the hallway taking advantage of an open door to the garage. Fortunately, the roof space was unlined so Billy gave an almighty leap, right up into the rafters and temporary safety.

The rest of the gang hauled away bags of flour, sugar, powdered milk and tea, plus a few small cans of salmon that Marmaduke had swiped from the shop.

George made it back home before anyone else, he was running on pure adrenalin.

"Are you there Bess," he called as he opened the door. Seeing George in an agitated state, Bess rushed over to her man, looked into his eyes and said, "Somethin's gone wrong George, I can see it written all over your face."

George shook his head in dismay and explained that they were a cat down, young Billy had been captured during a heist that went badly wrong.

"What 'appened George?" asked Bess.

George hesitated for a moment then described the dairy on the corner of Madill St. Everything was going to plan, we made it into the larder and were loading up with provisions, when some heavy-footed feline who I will not name sent a saucepan flying and woke the whole house up. Of course, we all scarpered through an open sky light, but poor Billy was one of the last and slipped. To avoid immediate capture, he headed for the garage and jumped up into the rafters, but limpy old Styles saw him and simply shut the door, proclaiming that Animal Control could pick him up in the morning. I stood outside the garage door and reassured Billy that help was on its way and to sit tight.

'Now look Bess, we'll need to act fast and enlist the heavies for this one, so would you mind going over to the barn and tell the boys they are needed on urgent business!' exclaimed George.

Bess looked at him and said, "Will Eli and Spike do? I've a feeling that Titus might be out of action with a septic paw.�

Without waiting for a reply, Bess continued, 'That's the trouble with those boys, they might be big and beefy on a diet of fresh rats, but eating 'em comes with a risk. You know that rats spend a lot of

time in hoomin drains. Eating food that hoomins give us is bad enough, but to eat their ...., Oh no I can't even think about it George,' she said, shaking her head.

George spoke emphatically, "Bess, this isn't the right time to discuss the behaviour of lesser creatures. All I know is that to spring Billy we'll need some muscle and those three boys, despite their malodours are the best in the business. So, if you wouldn't mind just nipping over, I'll sort out a recovery plan.”

The rest of the gang arrived one by one and piled their haul in the kitchen.

"We maybe a cat down, but you boys did well tonight," said Aunt Bess.”

“Now I must be headin over those fields and get hold of the Terrible Trio. Just as well they don't come to many parties, you can imagine the smell," she mumbled before disappearing out the door en-route to the barn.

Council of War The remaining members of the heist sat around the table and planned a recovery strategy for Billy. George said, “It's one thing to have heavies, but we won't get anywhere without a plan.”

At this point, Norbert suggested doing a recce while awaiting the reinforcements then slid out the door. Willard suggested maybe lift a couple of tiles from the garage roof to which Marmie, sighed, “You'll be lucky, that roof is made of iron! No point looking for an open window or skylight, the place will be locked up like Fort Knox by now.”

A number of ideas ensued but nothing really sensible emerged. However, after just a few minutes, the door opened and Spike, the first of the Terrible Trio came bounding in, looked at George with his good eye and retorted, “Been told you need our services sir!”

Close behind were Eli with a bent ear and Titus with his partially healed paw. It was just as well the brothers had different disfigurements as otherwise, they would look remarkably alike. Enormously framed, almost twice the size of most felines, sporting slate grey coats, dashed with spots of tabby and wide menacing eyes, or 'eye' as in the case of Spike!

Not far behind came Aunt Bess, puffing and panting while exclaiming desperate need for a cup of tea!

“I'm not getting any younger and it's a fair old 'ike over there”, she said.

George went and put the urn on before returning to the council of war. Bess sat down, huffed and puffed a few times before regaining her breath then headed over to the range to brew tea for the entire gathering.

“Guess you boys could do with something to eat,” she whispered so as not to

interrupt the meeting. Just then Norbert returned from his recce and joined the throng.

After much deliberation and to-ing and fro-ing, Norbert came up with an idea.

“If we can't get into the property by unconventional means, then we'll have to use the regular route, so this is what well do ..........

At about 6.30 am, even though it had been a long night for the boys, they were ready to put their plan into action. They split into two groups. The first comprised Uncle George, a revved-up Marmaduke, Willard, Ruben and Titus to add a bit of beef. They approached the property from the rear, using a service lane that ran behind the doctors and waited for the call to action.

The second group was the commando unit of just 3 daring cats led by Norbert, supported by Eli & Spike. They arrived at the park opposite the target and waited a couple of minutes to ensure the others were in place. Norbert looked at his companions in the half-light and whispered, “Ready.”

Heads nodded and the group stealthily moved forward until they reached the door of the dairy which was already open with Mr Styles behind the counter.

Norbert nodded to Spike who then let out a heinous scream “ATTACK” and immediately an affirmative reply in feline was heard from the boys attacking from the rear.

Eli and Spike entered the shop and started mayhem, growling, spitting and pulling stock from the shelves and counter. An outraged Mr Styles reached for a broom and started making wild swings at the aggressive felines.

Meanwhile, out back, the posse had scaled the back fence and had taken up positions in the garden. George went up the beanpoles, Ruben commenced digging up the flower beds, while Willard and Titus were sending up duststorms in the potato patch. Marmaduke leapt on to the window ledge and tapped the window with his head to get the attention of Mrs Styles and her son

Jonathan who were sat eating breakfast. Jonathan, a plump chap who moved awkwardly, looked up in alarm as old Marmie turned his back on them and sprayed the window! Jonathan and mother immediately sprang into action and rushed out with saucepans to throw at the interlopers.

Out front, the fracas had spilled out on to the street with old Styles using his broom like a sword, intent on doing serious damage. As soon as Styles got passed the door, he failed to notice Norbert creep inside behind him, jump the counter and head straight for the garage. The internal door was no big deal, requiring just a couple of quick flicks on the handle with outstretched paws then open sesame!

“Hurry up Billy,” said Norbert in hushed tones and within a flick of the whisker, the captive was following his rescuer. They returned to the shop, jumped up on the counter, whereupon a deadly obstacle appeared between them and freedom.

Old Styles had chased the heavies a few paces down the street then retreated after realising his shop had been left unattended. He spotted Norbert and Billy heading towards the door and blocked their escape proclaiming, “Now it's my turn.”

Poor old Styles spoke too soon. Before he could deal to the intruders, he was overcome by fierce pain inflicted by a sharp set of feline incisors on his Achilles tendon! As with anyone being attacked, he turned to face the aggressor and in doing so, provided the two captives an opportunity to leap between him and the door-post and flee across the road to freedom! Once Norbert and Billy were clear, Eli released his grip on the ankle of Mr Styles who then disappeared back into his shop.

Spike then wailed an ALL-CLEAR message to the boys at the back, who were having great fun dodging missiles being thrown at them by Mrs Styles and Jonathan. The cat warriors leapt the fence and scarpered. Last to leave was old Marmie, who paused atop the fence for a moment and couldn't help

noticing that immediately below him was a bed of juicy big strawberries.

Unable to resist, he moved sideways and deposited a huge spray over the fruit! Jonathan advanced rapidly and desperately hurled a shovel at Marmie which missed him by a whisker and landed noisily in the street.

At this point, Marmaduke decided that discretion was better part of valour and sloped off home as fast as his 4 legs would carry him. Safely back, he slipped in through the cat flap and made his way to the music room without encountering anyone, then curled up under the piano stool and nodded off.

A couple of hours later, his slumber was disturbed by loud door-banging followed by a heated exchange between Old Misery Guts and an unknown man. Marmaduke peered round the music room door and there before him was a terrifying sight of an animal control inspector armed with a cage and a net on the end of a long pole.

"Oh bother," muttered Marmie in his usual way and listened carefully to the conversation.

The Animal Control Inspector proclaimed, 'I'm here following-up a complaint from a local trader who had two homeinvasions last night by a group of feral cats. One of the chief miscreants was a scruffy looking ginger tom and word has it that such a creature hangs around this house. We need to round-up these malicious and vicious ferals before they harm anyone else,' he said.

At this point, Old Misery Guts snapped.

"Malicious and vicious. How dare you insinuate that my beloved pet ("if only," Marmaduke muttered under his breath) is the ringleader of something sinister.

To suggest that just because Marmaduke is a ginger tom, he is guilty of every misdemeanour involving cats of a similar hue, is an absolute outrage!� “Look, come in and see my cat for yourself, he'll be curled up in the piano room fast asleep.�

Meanwhile, rather than leg-it and appear guilty, Marmaduke returned to his spot and curled up, trying to look innocent.

Misery Guts proudly boasted, "There you are, a fine feline specimen. How can you assert that such a noble creature is a marauding feral?" (Marmaduke whispered, "Steady on, even I'll start to believe you if you carry on like this") "Did I hear him speak,� said the officer?

'When, ' said Misery guts’ “Just then," said the inspector.

Misery Guts angrily stood tall and proclaimed that his cat was multi-talented and even tried to play piano. ('Better than you can,' said Marmie in hushed tones) Old Misery Guts then went on the offensive, 'Now look young man, if your company wants to keep its contract with the Council, I suggest you cease pursuit of my beloved animal, otherwise you might end up getting the sack.'

'I'm well connected in this town and can cause you and your company much embarrassment,' he said in lordly tones.

Undismayed, the cat-catcher then asked, "What's his teeth like, cos on the report it said that the ginger miscreant has several teeth missing."

'Oh Marmaduke has a fine set,' said Misery Guts, lying through his own set while Marmaduke kept his jaws firmly shut.

"Well, if that's the case, I'll have to make enquiries elsewhere, but look, here's my card if you see anything suspicious please give me a call," said the inspector.

'Sure will," said Misery Guts and escorted the man out of the house.

Misery Guts then returned to the music room, nudged Marmaduke with his foot while asking,

"What you been up to, you old bugger?"

Marmaduke gave an innocent smile, but his lips were sealed!

Later that day, one by one, the brave commandos received a hero's welcome back at the Cheshire’s. It was a time of reflection and they just sat, drank tea, reminisced and congratulated each other. Billy expressed gratitude to everyone, while the ladies took turns to give the gallant males big hugs.

George proposed a vote of thanks to the absent heavies who were hailed warriors by everyone. Marmaduke was especially pleased with himself and reflected, “Do you know, I think Reggie would be proud of me today,” as a tear rolled down his cheek.”

'Here here,' reverberated around and around the gathering. Speech followed speech, the gathering was filled with joy. George brought the meeting to a close with a brief, but poignant warning, “Felines, I don't wish to pour cold water on our joyful afternoon, but we need to be mindful that humans will be looking out for revenge, so take care. Today, we did what was needed to spring Billy, but a lesson has been learned. While we felines are, and always will be, the craftiest animals under the sun, we need to address our food sorties in a far more disciplined way.”

More here here's, ensued before George wished everyone a safe journey home.

Renaming Ceremony - under the auspices of the Universal Order of Feline Freedom (U-OFF) In front of a packed house on the first Monday in the month, Uncle George in his role of Grand Lodge Master, took the floor bedecked in fancy waistcoat, bow-tie and the ceremonial chain of U-OFF. Aunt Bess looked on with a wide smile and twitching nose, inordinately proud of her man.

"Good afternoon everyone, welcome to the meeting of U-OFF. For those novices yet to be inducted, U-OFF is a secret organisation that performs special rituals and cares for the welfare of independent felines. The acronym U-OFF, stands for the Universal Order (of) Feline Freedom and at each meeting we recite our special affirmation three times at the start and end of each meeting.

So with no further ado I call, "ARE U-OFF?" The audience responds in perfect unison, 'You bet we are.'

"ARE U-OFF," 'You bet we are.'

"ARE U-OFF," 'You bet we are.' “Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, we can now proceed with the main event of the afternoon, namely a renaming ceremony. For you novices sitting in front, this renaming ceremony is another example of felines battling human

persecution. As with our affirmation, when we chant 'you bet we are,' we remind ourselves of the day we escaped the misery of human patronage.

Renaming is a ritual to cleanse damaged souls who have been burdened with absurd names, given to them by patronising humans.� “Today's candidates are," George paused for a second and rechecked his list, "Tiddles, Snowball and Fluffy."

George looked sternly at the giggling audience shaking his head, "No felines, this is not the time for mirth, this is a serious occasion, a time for righting wrongs."

The candidates lined up in front of George and he beckoned the first forward, a bustling tabby tom wearing a schoolboy cap. George looking formal said, "And what is your chosen name Tiddles?"

The candidate proudly announced he had chosen a name befitting his tabby species and announced it was to be 'Tiger.' George smiled in a reassuring way and recited, "Tiddles, I hereby rename you 'Tiger.' From this moment on, all felines will regard you as Tiger, so go forth, be proud and noble."

Next it was Snowball's turn to be morphed into Anastasia, a sleek, white Russian female. Finally, it was Fluffy's turn. An attractive oyster coloured, Queen Burmese came forward and was renamed Anoushka. Both girls wore white veils and glowed with pride as the audience applauded.

When the cheering subsided, 3 new novices were introduced, Billy the Kid, Hiram and Dolly. They were given instructions on U-OFF codes of conduct and were informed that provided they served a satisfactory period as novices, they too would be inducted at the next meeting.

"Felines, I call upon you all to help and encourage these candidates standing here before us today to uphold the principals of our proud tradition, in order that they too maybe inducted at the next U-OFF meeting."

George looked across the room and could see Marmaduke making frantic paw

signals and muttering under his breath about winding it up so he could start the music, so George said, "ARE U-OFF?" 'You bet we are.'

"ARE U-OFF," 'You bet we are.'

"ARE U-OFF," 'You bet we are.'

"Thank you everyone," said George who was almost drowned out by Marmaduke leading the band into Crocodile Rock. A toothless feline singing "I remember when rock was young, me and Suzie had so much fun, holding hands and skimming stones ......... immediately transformed the atmosphere from 'solemn' to 'hedonistic', a state where felines are happiest.

Tea flowed and sticky buns were consumed at a frantic rate as the gathering danced and fraternalised the afternoon away.

Saturday Apart from being Pasty Night, Saturday at the Cheshire residence was largely devoted to kittens. Marmaduke arrived at 10.00 am and prepared himself for rehearsing the Kit Chicks. The girls turned up around 10 minutes later, giggling and being silly as usual. They all wore bright coloured turbans, Amy in pink, Bella in mauve and Carmel in bright blue. "Right girls, let's get started," said Marmaduke looking more than a little apprehensive at what appeared to be a lack of commitment. "We'll start with Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy. Now remember, all of you must come in together when I nod my head at the end of the intro." Despite his best efforts, the girls were all over the place and after a couple of false starts, the need for some harsh words seemed appropriate.

"Amy, if you could stop giggling for just one moment," demanded Marmaduke.

As he spoke, the girls started moving around the floor like a snake, smirking away to themselves. Marmaduke's patience was running out and he slammed both paws down on the keys of his piano, creating the most awful discordant sound imaginable. The girls froze on the spot. Marmaduke retorted, "Don't fool with me, I'm not to be messed with. No, I'm a veteran of the legendary Great Rescue and fought in the front line. Carmel sneered and retorted, 'Yeah, like peeing on the strawberries!'

The girls’ mirth was uncontrollable and realising he wasn't getting very far, Marmaduke wisely changed tack.

"Now look girls, you have to perform to a higher standard otherwise Uncle George will drop this act from the billing. Talk about a cat's choir, we really do need to pull our socks up," he said. After a couple of false starts with

Marmaduke claiming the Andrews Sisters would turn in their graves, progress was made on the third attempt. The trio then insisted on doing, Sing Me Your Song. Even old Marmie was impressed how well the girls got into this number.

They even managed some coordinated dance steps. With a hesitant smile, Marmaduke said, “Well let's see if we can nail it even better this afternoon,” and the girls started giggling again.

While the rehearsal was taking place, the kittens of the parish filed in with their parents to hear a special solo performance by Ruben, the multi-talented horn player. Ruben although a few summers younger than Marmie, was a quiet, taciturn male when off-stage, but morphed into a class act in front of an audience. Also a good keyboard player, Ruben had a gentler touch than Marmaduke preferring ballads to up-tempo stuff.

It was time to get proceedings under way so Uncle George suddenly appeared out of nowhere and welcomed the kittens who sat in a semi-circle around the dance floor. He beamed with joy and in hushed tones said, “Welcome little ones to the wonderful world of music and song. Ruben is going to perform, Everything Will Be Alright, by the great human scholar, Mr Partridge, but he will need some help with the chorus. Will you girls and boys help him? Do I hear a yes?” George cupped his paw to his ear and received a very positive response.

“Well in that case all I need say is - music maestro please!”

Ruben, a black feline with shiny sleeked back hair looked a little awkward sat at the piano as Marmaduke leered at him from the kitchen bench. Doubtless, Aunt Bess was trying to reassure the old ginger tom that his job was safe. With long delicate paws, Ruben commenced the song. Within a few bars everyone was singing the chorus, everything will be alright, be alright, day and nighttime, while Uncle George, held up drawings that Ruben had made of centipedes, butterflies, ladybirds and glow worms in the appropriate places in the song. The genius of Mr Partridge combined with a wonderful interpretation

by Ruben, created a very special moment for the kittens. At the end, the young ones wanted more music and kept pleading, some even said “please,” so Uncle Ruben obliged and performed the song again. Rather than incur yet another possible encore, he announced he had something else to sing to them.

“It's all about the sun, children,” Ruben told them and commenced the George Harrison song, Here Comes the Sun. Willard the drummer was already set-up, so joined in the fun. By the second chorus, the kittens were all swaying and wailing in full voice, "Here comes the sun, doot un doo, here comes the sun and I say, it's alright."

At the end of the song, Aunt Bess called, "lunch" and the kittens scurried like mad things. George thanked Ruben for a splendid performance, while he (Ruben) checked that old Marmie's piano stool and music were exactly in the same place! Marmie was then heard to scowl from the kitchen, "Give that man his horn back, if nothing else it'll stop him trying to sing!"

Marmie, was in an irascible mood, the aggression was rising by the minute.

Everyone anticipated a noisy, honky-tonk afternoon when the lid blew!

Lunch today was buns and jam or toasted teacakes with lashings of stolen butter. Aunt Bess was already in a tizz over the number of guests and decided to send the kittens’ home after lunch so they could have their afternoon snooze. Meanwhile Marmie could do his thing on the piano with Ruben on horn, Willard on drums, Norbert on sax and guitar and the Kit-Chicks doing vocals. The girls swapped turbans for berets and walked in-line on to the stage to a warm welcome from a sizable crowd. Most of the regulars were there including Hermione and Alice, Delores accompanied today by a rather dapper looking young tom with sleeked grey hair whom she introduced as Roger. By all accounts, he had lots of charm when it came to the ladies.

The band struck up and the Kit-Chicks launched into Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy from Company B. This time they nailed it perfectly both in the military style

routine and harmonious rendition of the song. Marmaduke gave it what for on the piano, being glad to be back in control while Ruben always looking cool seemed happy enough playing the horn. The Kit Chicks finished off their brief set with Sing Me Your Song. The crowd was happy, the girls too, but old Marmie maintained there was still room for improvement, while Bella stood behind him making faces!

Nonetheless he moved the programme along with a rendition of Benny and the Jets (oh so willing and wonderful .............. you know I read it in a magazine) Paws came thumping down on keys with vocal chords stretched on the high notes, Marmaduke completely forgetting that with head tilted back and mouth wide open, his sorry dental state was being viewed by one and all!

Norbert took the lead on the next number 'A' Train, a jazz standard which went down well as Delores was whisked off her feet by her new beau, Roger.

Marmie muttered “twinkle toes” under his breath and shook his head, but no one noticed, everyone was intrigued by the dancing skills of Roger, a real dandy if ever there was one. The house seemed full of fun for no particular reason other than it was Saturday, the music was great and the bonhomie first class. But that’s what life is all about, in the feline domain. It's about creatures of comfort, lovers of warmth and affection combined with a healthy dislike of anything that resembles work - apart from absolute necessaries. That said, poor Aunt Bess was run off her feet rolling pastry and peeling vegetables for the pasties, but once she had them in the oven, this stalwart of the kitchen proclaimed, “That's it, I'm done, it's time for a nice cup of tea.”

Meanwhile George was circulating among the folks with his usual joie du vie, just as humans did before the days of computers and the internet. Unlike today where they seem preoccupied with watching smaller and smaller screens, they seem to miss out on real fun.

But not so for the Cheshire mob. The pasties came out of the oven at 4.30pm and there was joy all around. Marmie had some difficulty chewing the pastry, but otherwise, Aunt Bess' tasty morsels disappeared in minutes. As soon as everyone had finished, Aunt Bess gave George a prod, but he was deep in conversation with Roger who was insistent that afternoon tea should be made with the Darjeeling variety. Frustrated by the tone of the conversation, Aunt Bess stood tall, then promptly called time. “Now come on boys and girls, you've all got 'omes to go, so don't let us keep 'ee. And remember, tomorrow's lick n preen, so don't even think about it.�

Aunt Bess reinforced the message pointing a finger around the gathering.

Good News A couple of days later, Bess was getting ready to do a bit of stand-up (or human send-up) depending on how one looked at it. Monday was comedy day, so she was busily writing gags on a scrap of paper when all of a sudden, in popped Dudley.

“Just look what the cat's brought in,” screamed Aunt Bess in a disapproving manner.

“You've been missing for a few weeks now, but as I said to George, our luck won't last, Dudley will always turn up, just like a bad penny, and lo and behold here you are!”

Dudley looked at Bess with one eye and said, 'I've been down the line, only just got back.'

Bess retorted, “Up to no good I'll be sure.”

Dudley feigned mock hurt and said, 'Oh don't be like that Auntie, especially as I am the bringer of good tidins.'

“Good tidins my foot, the only good thing you ever do is leave,” said a mildly irritated Aunt Bess.

Dudley smirked and said, “You'll be pleased to hear what I'm about to tell you,” said Dudley.

Aunt Bess, never a one for histrionics, said, “Get on with it will you, keeping us in suspense.”

Dudley paused, raised his scrawny chest and touched his nose in a knowing way. News is that Reggie has made it back to town, but was seized by Sarah Jones, his previous owner's daughter before he could make contact with his father. Things could be worse, but for once humans have seen sense and Ms Jones has given Reggie a home after his heroic walk from Papatoetoe.

Anyway, he's on a five-day lock-down so should be released on Friday.

Aunt Bess with a worried countenance said,

“Ope you 'avent told Marmaduke 'ave you? Cos if 'ee gets wind of where Reggie is, there will be 'ell to pay.” Dudley shook his head and said, 'No, you're the first I've told Auntie, but I've heard about the fun what happened at the dairy raid,' he said.

Aunt Bess shook her head and muttered, “How come a scruffy hobo like you knows more about what's 'appenin' in this parish than I do?”

'Keeps my ear to the ground, or in the air, particularly when I hears a feline wailing and can recognise the wail,' said Dudley.

He continued, 'I was quietly going about my business down in West Street when I heard a feline call from up the cul-de-sac. I immediately recognised it was young Reggie, so I followed the sound and offered some help from the other side of the door. It was then that Reggie told me how he'd got there, but assured me he didn' want a fuss as his new lodgings were very comfortable and much more amenable than sharing with his father at Misery Guts place.'

“Well that is good news Dudley. Rather than 'ave more dramas we'll keep it from Marmaduke until Reggie is released, then Oh Boy, we'll have a huge party,” yelled Aunt Bess.

Dudley replied, 'Right you are, I'll practice my beatbox for the do!'

Friday would soon be upon them and with much to be arranged, the independent feline community had to make haste. Dudley went around to Reggie and told him to keep quiet and reassured him that he (Dudley) would be waiting for him on Friday morning down in West Street. Meanwhile, Ruben was secretly seconded to the role of M.D. for the occasion and after some deliberation, came up with a plan.

The next morning, long before Marmaduke was due to arrive, a breakfast meeting took place at the Cheshire’s to discuss the reunion. Ruben presented his plan.

“What I would like to do is to get a choir together, yes, I've heard the jokes about cat's choirs, but if we put our minds to it, we felines can do anything we

want. And I don't mean a choir just for one occasion. There are only a few of us lucky enough to have learned music, but with a choir everyone can participate. It seems such a waste that the velvety tones of lady contraltos contrasting with feline sopranos, evened out by fine male tenors, are not heard in this establishment! Forgive me for saying so, but my background in teaching leans more to an academic approach to music, as opposed to Marmaduke's instinctive joy through rhythm and syncopation. I believe is there is room for many types of music (he mutters 'except country & western' under his breath)” “The songs I have in mind for Reggie's return are Mother & Child Reunion, which I will adapt to suit the occasion. This can be sung in gospel style, as we performed it in the school chapel once. When the two ginger boys embrace, we'll follow through with Oh Happy Day, by Edwin Hawkins Singers, you know, all gospel and heart!”

Ruben continued, "The benefits of this plan are twofold; First, we gain a choir, second, we can provide Marmaduke and Reggie with a day they'll never forget. But most important felines, we can surprise Marmaduke with a grand celebration." Ruben looked around the room, saw heads nodding in unison, then thanked the gathering before sitting down.

George in turn thanked Ruben for his meticulous plan, then sought approval from the event which was unanimous. He then broached the thorny issue of telling Marmie that a choir was being formed. Doubtless a few teeth would be bared and spittle will launch through gaps in teeth, but George said he would simply bite the bullet and tell Marmie as soon as he arrived. Those present acknowledged that George had a difficult task ahead. Confronting Marmie on such a touchy subject was dodgy to say the least, no one really knew how the old boy would respond.

The next three days were long and arduous for the erstwhile creatures of comfort, but it was a case of needs must. Each morning around 9.15 am the

performers would arrive and practice their two songs. Ruben tried to make the rehearsal process an enjoyable one for the aptly named Gibson Singers (Listen in if you like to a rehearsal).

Friday morning duly arrived and Dudley waited patiently for Reggie to emerge from the cat door at No 7 West Street. Meanwhile back at Gibson Road, felines were darting hither and thither making preparations. George had organised a schedule starting with the final rehearsal of the Gibson Singers followed by morning tea. By mid-morning most of the band had arrived and were practicing. George usually called for music at 1.15 pm, but today it was decided the choir would surreptitiously form at the opposite end to the stage and commence singing at one pm. Ruben would slide across to the piano while Marmie was being indulged in a platter of cheese straws at the kitchen bench. (Cheese straws were Marmie's favourite, the mere thought of such delight would start him salivating) When everyone was in place, Norbert would craftily strike a "C" note on the piano and the choir would commence with Paul Simon's Mother and Child reunion.

That was the plan, the choir did a final rehearsal then dispersed into the gathering. Marmie wandered in at 11.30, turned to Ruben and said, 'Might have known you'd be here trying to make a name for yourself as choirmaster. But its back to reality, we need to set-up for today's performance, so you better drag yourself away and get back to the band.'

Ruben didn't rise to the comment.

While the band was setting up, Norbert suggested to Marmie that they begin the first set with a really good rocking tune.

"What do you have in mind Norbert?" said Marmie.

Let's have "Celebration, by Kool and the Gang," replied Norbert.

Marmie looked bewildered. 'But we've got nothing to celebrate, anyway you can't swap sax for bass guitar on that number.' “No,� said Norbert, but Dudley can easily beatbox the bassline intro.'

Marmie replied, “If you think so, we'll give it a try I suppose. Pity there's nothing to celebrate.�

Norbert looked at Marmie through his dark sunglasses and said, "You worry too much Marmie, it's a cool song, I'm sure we'll find something joyous."

Marmie shrugged his shoulders and said nonchalantly, "If you say so Norbert," and continued with his bandleader duties none the wiser. As always, Norbert and Ruben took an early lunch to avoid blowing food particles over the audience, while Marmie fussed about with his piano tuning spanner. Everything seemed normal save for the fact while the party hadn't yet started the place was full to capacity with felines arriving from all over the parish. Aunt Bess, although usually stressed-out was remarkably cool this day.

At about five minutes to one, the cheese straws were nice and brown just as Marmie liked them and the trap was baited. Bess wandered across to the piano and waved the plate of goodies under the pianist's nose whereupon a salivating feline followed as if in a trance. Unaware that everyone in the house was watching, Marmie stalked behind Bess to the breakfast bar whereupon the platter was presented to him. Despite dental challenges, the old maestro tucked into to his favourite treat as though nothing else in the world mattered.

This was just as well as Dudley had already secreted Reggie into a dark corner of the house in readiness for the big surprise.

Just as he was finishing up the last morsels, Ruben nodded to Norbert who hit middle "C" on the keyboard and before Marmie had chance to protest the choir were in full voice. "Now I would not bring you false hope, on this strange and mournful day, but a father and son reunion is only a motion away ."

With Ruben taking lead vocal, the fine female voices were truly uplifting as the male voices added depth to the sound. They repeated the chorus at the end of the song and the entire ensemble walked in unison forming a semi-circle around a bewildered Marmaduke. Then suddenly from the centre of the throng emerged an apparition.

It was young Reggie with paws outstretched.

Marmie was stunned. At first thought he was seeing things, but when Reggie wailed, "Hello Dad," the pair linked into a long and emotional embrace.

Everyone stood in silence, honouring the special moment for Marmaduke and Reggie. A minute or so passed before a second "C" was heard from Norbert and the choir launched into Oh Happy Day. Reggie shed a tear or two while Marmaduke howled with joy, his tiny lower jaw quivering with emotion as tears ran down his cheeks. In a surprising gesture, Marmie clapped the choir with paws above his head several times.

At the end of the song, Uncle George congratulated Reggie on making it back to the village, a distance of some 60 kilometres from Papatoetoe.

"That's no mean feat felines, so when Reggie is up to it, he might like to share his great escape with us. Meanwhile the ladies are busy laying on a hero’s feast.�

George raised his cup for a toast, "To Reggie and Marmaduke.�

The audience responded in like-manner after which everyone sat down for a feed. Plates of scrumptious cream buns, currant cakes, cheese straws and other delicacies were passed around the gathering by the ladies who had spent much time over the last few days amassing the wherewithal using instinctive, but cunning feline thievery.

Unlike humans, cats don't have consciences. If something's available, it's there to be stolen, otherwise it wouldn't be there in the first place, would it?

Cats have many different looks, happy, contented, angry, mean, but a regretful countenance is only to be found on human and dog faces, that's why those species are often so miserable! Felines can have parties six days a week, or seven days depending whether you side with Uncle George or Aunt Bess and have no qualms about feeling indulgent.

Reggie and Marmaduke were treated like royalty. One by one the ladies came up and made a big fuss of Reggie, but he was too shy for the hero role. He played down the escape explaining that he didn't like Papatoe' one little bit.

Very urban and with several oriental food shops to avoid, it was no place for a feline.

"Anyway playmates, I was desperately miserable, missing dad, missing my hometown and my friends, but just one thing cheered me up. Every night when it was quiet I could hear the rumbling of trains and my heart came right back to George Street and the railway crossing. I used to sing Midnight Special, you know the old country and western song to myself. That cheered me up a little and led me to think that when I did make a break, I would make for the railway and head south. Anyway, one night I managed to spill a full packet of cat biscuits by shoving the packet off the shelf. Needless to say, I ate to a standstill then uttered to myself, "Reginald, this is your moment in time."

I immediately hopped out of the kitchen window commando style and made my escape. For inspiration I kept repeating, 'Are U-OFF? You bet I am,' 'Are U-OFF? You bet I am.'

“I kept the chant going as I weaved my way through the streets of that unfriendly town.”

“By daybreak I had reached the railway line. After a quick reconnoitre, I decided which way ‘south’ was, then headed towards the railway tracks under a bright blue sky. After making sure I was out of earshot of the town, I found myself a nice bush to hide under then curled up and slept the day away. As dusk descended, I could see breakfast on the hoof. Birds were back in the trees, but I could also see the eyes of rats and mice, so I didn't go hungry. I tramped that line for 14 sunsets, before reaching here, only to be scooped up

by Sarah Jones.”

“All's well that ends well I suppose,” said Reggie reflecting in a philosophical

way.

Marmaduke looked at Reggie and said, 'At least you are home son, that's all that matters.'

Marmie was beside himself with joy and kept on hugging his son with great pride.

"I knew you would return Reggie, I never doubted it, but 'well done' young fella, you make me so proud to be your father. When we have time, maybe this evening, I'll tell you about the Great Rescue of Billy the Kid." Reggie looked at his father and said, 'Is that the black un with eyes quite close together?'

"That's right son, he's just over there, look," said Marmie, pointing with a slightly matted paw.

Across the room, Norbert was in deep conversation with Dudley. Norbert as ever was resplendent in dark sunglasses telling Dudley that the first number after the break would be Celebration by Kool and the Gang.

"Now Dud, can you beatbox the bass-intro for us."

'Oh, I'll give it a try,' mused Dudley and immediately started huffing and puffing the intro of the song.

"That'll do Dud," said Norbert.

Being the centre of attraction was something Marmaduke reveled in, even though he was loath to admit it. Behind a mask of imperiousness was a softhearted feline who could wail sadly when circumstance called for it, but today Marmaduke was talking twenty to the dozen emitting the old saliva projectile through gaps in his teeth. No-one cared in the least, this was a day of joy for two devoted toms. After a while, Marmie noticed the band getting into position and duty called upon him as stalwart bandleader to take his place at the piano.

Walking past Ruben, Marmie gave a muted snarl, sat down at the piano and indulged in some histrionics over the tuning in response to Ruben having used his beloved instrument. The irony wasn't wasted on Ruben whose delicate

touch was harmless compared to Marmie's honky-tonk, hit 'em hard and low approach to music.

Marmaduke moved the piano stool away, stood bolt upright and counted, “Ah one, two, three, four, and Dudley commenced puffing and blowing like the Flying Scotsman while emitting a very credible bass line. Members of the Gibson Singers joined in the opening chorus of 'Celebration' with Marmaduke in fine voice on lead vocal. (You can listen here if you like) The band played quite a long and varied set, before Aunt Bess called time around 4.30 with another round of tea and buns to see the guests on their way.

Not surprisingly, Marmaduke and Reggie were the last to leave and after bidding their farewells to their hosts the pair ambled off into the darkness.

They made their way down Gibson Road then up George Street, passed the Town Hall before they too bade each other goodnight on the reserve opposite old Styles shop. Marmie turned to his son and muttered, “I mustn't linger, if old Styles recognises me, there will be more than buckets of water.”

The pair affectionately hugged before Reggie headed down West Street, while Marmaduke crossed George Street and made his way up Madill Street, needless to say on the opposite side of the road to Styles dairy!

Philosophy Day After a frenetic week, Aunt Bess was a bit frazzled to say the least. Even her husband had seemingly lost the spring in his step, but as they say, 'the show must go on,' with tired felines or otherwise. Over a bedtime cup of cocoa around 6.30pm, the Cheshire’s decided that Saturday would be a philosophy day.

At such occasions, each feline would take the floor and express at least one piece of wisdom. The band would focus on instrumental numbers which would give Marmaduke the opportunity to indulge in Errol Garner's Ebb Tide.

Strangely enough the tune was a favourite of Old Misery Guts with whom Marmaduke lodged, or maybe we should say Old Misery Guts lodging with Marmie, for it was difficult to know who pulled the strings in that household.

As always, George was MC and spoke in a warm, kindly way.

“Yes felines, today we are going to share our wisdom and who better to start proceedings than our one and only Mr Marmaduke.”

Cheers went up all around, but poor Marmie was so full of emotion that when he started speaking, his jaws went up and down without much coming out! The old boy cleared his throat and re-started. “Felines, you know how happy I am now that Reggie has returned, but within that joy is acknowledgment of my son's stoic attitude. Reggie is a strong-willed cat who became what he is today

as a result of adversity. Right from the start his was a hard life for which a lesser tom would have succumbed. He was barely weaned when his poor mother was wiped out by a stock truck and soon thereafter, was shipped off to Mrs Jones, mother of his current surrogate. Not quite out of his teens, he was transported to Papatoetoe, a feline hell-hole if ever there was one! But adversity gave Reggie the resilience to make the long journey of 14 sunsets back home. So, my message today felines is twofold. Strong animals are resilient as a result of overcoming adversity, whereas lesser souls succumb and end up sad and broken ferals. I say to you all, be gracious towards those who lack fortitude." The crowd applauded loud enough for Her On-Top to hear.

Marmaduke shuffled back to the piano stool wiping away a tear or two of emotion.

Next up was Delores whose long silver, Persian mane glimmered when she stood beneath the light-shaft. She waited for silence then began, "Felines, I appeal to you young and old to remember that there are times when some of us don't want to talk about bygone events. Everyone is burdened with varying degrees of ill-treatment, infidelity or just plain spitefulness. My message today is that when a feline, refuses to discuss the past, respect it with good grace.

Don't interrogate them the way humans do. Let the past rest, for each new day brings a new party and yes felines, more hedonistic joy!"

The applause was tumultuous as Delores walked back to her seat.

Delores was followed by Ruben. My message is 'Go within or go without.' I heard the statement from a classical pianist. What this message tells us, is that we must go inside ourselves - you know to that place in our heads where we learn to play instruments, sing and so on. It’s not a place that can be accessed when there are lots of distractions, so when the opportunity arises in a quiet moment, we go inside ourselves and practice our art. I can see by your troubled faces that you don't get the 'go without' bit, but if you don't go within and practice, you'll never be good at anything, therefore you'll go without all

the pleasures that are learned by going within. If you want evidence of what I mean you only need go down to the railway line where all those urchin cats hang out day in, day out, doing nothing apart from seeking mischief. Look into their eyes felines and you'll see emptiness, the emptiness of not going within.

Thank you."

Ruben was quite taken aback by the applause. He was followed by Spider from Elizabeth Street. A very plain and sinewy fellow with a mottled coat. He began, "Felines, we are obliged to tolerate humans even though deep-down inside we loathe 'em!"

Tumultuous applause erupted from the audience.

"However, my message is, 'discretion is the better part of valour.' The most dangerous time for us felines is when the male human gets angry, particularly when drunk. At these times it is best for us to disappear otherwise we might find ourselves on the wrong end of an angry boot. You see felines, when humans get intoxicated, the 'TOXIC' part causes their brains to swell and push against their skulls. This makes them light-headed and prone to vomiting, so as I've said, keep out of the way when they are in-drink and especially the day after when their brains are shrinking back to their normal size. This causes severe pain and unwellness as their bodies’ process the poison in their systems. Some humans refer to the condition as a hangover, or crapulence.

Therefore felines, be warned. Thank you.�

There was much empathy for Spider's message and a degree of shock from younger felines who couldn't understand how humans who believed themselves to be superior, could behave in such a stupid way.

Next up was Aunt Bess. She looked around the floor and eyeballed everyone.

"Cats," she shouted, just to draw attention. She had a great sense of presence and spoke slowly and thoughtfully in a way that everyone believed she was talking just to them.

"Our good friend Spider passed on a great message and one I totally agree with. Yes, 'hoomins' are a sad crowd. They are totally addicted to their little screens and fail to notice a thing. Their lives are passing them by and they don't realise. Of course, their lifespan is much longer than our 15 - 20 summers, some of them live to 100 summers. Can you imagine, that's five to six feline life-times!" Aunt Bess smiled and chuckled, "Just think of all the lettuces us could water in 6 lifetimes! Don't bear thinkin’ bout does it! So, my message today is, 'Enjoy every day as if it were your last and do one selfless act every day.'

That way you'll live longer and feel better about yourselves. Thank you."

As always, Aunt Bess was a firm favourite with the crowd, receiving loud applause and several cat-calls!

Hermione and Alice, inseparable as always, took the floor in their relaxed and ladylike way. They charmed the audience with schemes to catch an unfaithful man.

"Now darlings, our message is to the ladies. Yes girls, toms can look you in the eye and lie through their teeth when the “season” comes around."

'Nudge-nudge, wink-wink,' retorted Alice.

Hermione continued, “When you ask a male where he's been, well darlings you might as well fly to the moon as get a straight answer! But herein lies the secret. Don't focus on what he tells you, for he is telling you what HE wants you to know, but listen carefully to what he doesn't tell you. Think of all the things he omits from his excuse and there it will be, as plain as a pikestaff, the philanderer’s downfall. Of course, we never recommend direct confrontation as things have a habit of turning nasty, in fact an aunt of mine lost an eye as a result of an argument with her nearest and dearest." When they run short of words, I'm afraid the boys can turn ugly and swipe with incredible viciousness.

Needless to say, that no sooner than they lash out, they regret it, but why take the risk of being scarred for life! Just as Spider mentioned earlier, discretion is

the better part of valour, so we recommend you ladies trap your lothario partners with stealth, rather than outright confrontation. Thank you.”

Half of the audience cheered wildly with high pitched voices, while the other half sat in stony silence.

Next came Willard, a rather taciturn male who expressed himself mainly with drumsticks. Willard explained that success often comes after a string of socalled failures.

“When I first got behind a drum kit it took me weeks to learn how to beat time, I was all over the place.” A croaky voice coming from the direction of where Marmaduke was sitting, surreptitiously ranted “You still are” followed by wails of laughter.

Willard chose to ignore the snipe and continued, “Felines, never use the word 'failure' in anything you do. Just take difficult tasks one step at a time and remember that anything worth doing is always hard at first, but with persistence it always gets easier.”

The mystery voice in the audience then quipped, 'You should know,' but once again Willard chose to ignore the baiting and continued, “The famous poet Rudyard Kipling put it this way, “If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster And treat those two impostors just the same.”

Willard continued, “Felines, this is the secret, never boast about your triumphs or be ashamed of your disasters. Throughout our lives we experience both extremes - in roughly equal measure. If you don't try, you don't succeed, just remember to keep polishing the more challenging aspects of what you do. With determination, anything you want can be yours! So whatever it is you choose to do, stick with it and NEVER quit! Persistence always prevails.”

To his utter amazement, Willard got the biggest cheer of all, lots of hooting and

wailing, whistling and of course some very interesting sounds emanating from Dudley, whose entire body was akin to a bellows!

Reggie timidly moved forward and braced himself before saying, "All I ask is that everyone bee's nice to one another, just like my dear dad is to me! Ah, thank you,” said Reggie.

Tears poured down the cheeks of old Marmie as his bottom jaw quivered with emotion, once more displaying a dentally challenged mouth, while the crowd cheered noisily.

To wrap up the session, Uncle George came back on stage and said with a broad Cheshire grin, "Now wasn't that interesting boys and girls," to which the gathering cheered.

He continued, "Well, I'm sure you all agree that today has been a resounding success and if I may, I will add just one more very brief message of my own, and that is, “Always be safe, as we’re never sorry.”

“The band along with the Kit-Chicks will sing us out with an uplifting song. So, it's music maestro please!"

George held out an outstretched paw and remained in animation until the band started the introduction of Let It Be by the Beatles. Everyone joined in the chorus and linked paws. At the end of the number, the gathering dispersed in their usual swift and furtive manner.

An Afternoon of Dance Revelers were full of anticipation after it had been announced that a dancing demonstration was to take place the next day.

As the revellers made their way out, Aunt Bess called out.

“Dudley, I needs a word with ee.”

The surprised feline looked around not altogether sure of whether to stay-put or leg it out the door.

'But, I hasn't done anythin' wrong Aunt Bess, he pleaded.'

Aunt Bess responded, “Now there's a guilty creature if ever there was one. You come over 'ere and do as you'm told, cos I needs a favour from ee.”

Dudley sloped cautiously towards Aunt Bess keeping an eye out for a possible flying projectile and asked, 'So what can I do for you Auntie?'

Aunt Bess explained that a large crowd was expected the next day due to the dancing demonstration. Dudley replied, 'Yes, I bin practicing with Ruben, he's a very clever chap, but I still likes old Marmie.'

Aunt Bess narrowed her eyes and said, “Oh yes, that's all very well, but I needs ee to run an errand. On your way 'ome

tonight, I wants ee to call in on Miss Kitty and ask 'er to give us a paw in the kitchen tomorrow. Then on your way 'ere tomorrow, I wants ee to pick her up and escort 'er ‘ere safely, do you hear me?'

Dudley, looking relieved at not being in trouble, said he would be honoured to look after Miss Kitty. Aunt Bess said that Miss Kitty had been quite a dancer herself back in the day, so would enjoy seeing Roger and Delores in action.

She then put on her harsh face and said, “I'm looking forward to tomorrow, so I don't want any young scoundrel ruinin' the day with bad behaviour, do you 'ear me Dudley?”

The young tom nodded in acquiescence.

Next day, preparations for the dancing demonstration were well under way at the Cheshires. Dudley and a spritely Miss Kitty arrived at 12.30pm. Dudley went off to practice with fill-in maestro Ruben while Miss Kitty put on her pinafore and set to work helping Aunt Bess. Trays of teacups were lined up and the water urn was simmering. When the scones and teacakes came out of the oven, Miss Kitty sliced and buttered them. Meanwhile, Aunt Bess was up to her elbows in flour preparing the next batch of baking.

At 1.00 pm after a brief introduction by Uncle George, Delores with her beau Roger took to the floor. One by one they demonstrated several dances with dexterity and grace to the delight of some, to the amusement of others and for a few, they invoked emotions of downright jealousy.

It had been deemed necessary by Roger that Ruben would be MD for his set, due to strict tempo requirements of the rumba, waltz and slow foxtrot. Not surprisingly, such a move went down like a lead balloon with Marmie, who throughout the performance cat-called insults about Ruben sticking to his horn. At one stage he yelled something about where he would like to stick Ruben's horn, which in turn inspired someone (sounding remarkably like Dudley) to go over-the-top and make a comment about bum notes, much to the displeasure of Aunt Bess! On the other hand, with Willard on drums and

Norbert on sax, things worked well under Ruben. As far as the band was concerned, loyalty was with whomever they were playing with at the time.

During a well-earned break, George took the opportunity of approaching Roger who looked absolutely splendid in tailored blazer, bright yellow cravat and matching handkerchief in his top pocket. George beamed as he said, “My word Roger you certainly know the art of ballroom dancing. I can see you have taught Delores a thing or two. She can follow you so well.”

Roger smiled in his charmed sort of way and explained that he was originally from the big smoke. He moved in the most refined circles and taught 'dance' to society queens and the occasional tom. Alas, like so many felines, a relocation had been inflicted on him when his surrogates decided to seek a quieter life in the country.

Roger recalled, 'Gosh awful luck being shifted out to the sticks, if you don't mind me saying so.

I gave considerable thought to legging it back home, but the trouble is you see I get so well looked after by Mr and Mrs Montagu-Brown, I simply couldn't contemplate a life as an alley cat. No, life at the Montagu-Browns is absolutely splendid, all the creature comforts of life and the very best of food. Kippers for breakfast, caviar for lunch, well life doesn't get much better than that does it!

What's more, to meet you and your delightful throng has been a joy to behold, so I feel truly blessed.'

“We do try Roger, we do try,” said George in a very proud way.

On resumption of proceedings, Roger repeatedly asked for a female volunteer from the audience to dance the Viennese waltz, but there didn't seem to a taker. Back at the kitchen Aunt Bess was very much in charge of things with Miss Kitty busily filling teacups. Roger with the aid of George did everything they knew to cajole a willing lady to dance. They even approached newcomer Nikki who was accompanied by her bullying brother Sox, but no joy. Roger explained to the audience with dismay,

“My delightful partner Delores has a bit of a problem with a paw and has sensibly decided to sit-out the rest of the afternoon.”

Miss Kitty turned to Aunt Bess and whispered, “You know, I used to love the Viennese Waltz, it was my favourite.” With that Aunt Bess, who towered over Miss Kitty pointed her paw over Miss Kitty's head and nodded up and down.

George spotted the gesture and beamed.

'Ah I think we have a volunteer, yes Miss Kitty is going to dance with Roger, now there's a surprise for us all!'

Roger did a huge slide across the floor, sneaked behind the breakfast bar and escorted Miss Kitty out, holding her paw high in the air in true Viennese style.

Despite the pinafore, pince-nez spectacles and calf length, black laced boots, the diminutive figure of Miss Kitty looked elegant and timeless as she strode with head held high. Ruben played the intro of Billy Joel's Piano Man accompanied by Dudley on harp and vocal. The two dancers commenced their performance whirling around the floor at rapid pace. Despite the passing of many summers, the dancing skills of Miss Kitty were still as sharp as a queen half her age. She was able to follow Roger's strong lead and displayed all the poise and elegance of the noblest dancer. The couple made full use of the floor dancing round in big wide circles to the amazement of one and all.

At the end of the performance, the ever-charming Roger bowed deeply to his partner who responded with a curtsy. The crowd demanded more, with lots of whistles and caterwauling, so the dancers had a brief tete a tete. Roger asked Miss Kitty if she knew the valeta and she replied, “I think so.” Roger quickly ran through the steps and immediately Miss Kitty, nodded saying, “Yes I remember.”

And so, the pair promenaded over to the piano. Roger said to Ruben, “We'll do the valeta.” Ruben said “OK,” and commenced the Valeta Waltz accompanied by Willard on drums.

The dancers started centre-stage for their closing performance to a huge cheer from the audience. The valeta, is a very graceful dance, performed with

elegance and poise involving lots of promenading, polka and waltz steps. Miss Kitty seemed the epitome of joy, gracefully interpreting a dance of her hey-day and in a curious way seemed to stand much taller than usual. It was as if time had stood still and Miss Kitty was young again. The audience was agog, save for one curmudgeonly old ginger tom who seethed about getting his piano back. Aunt Bess, overcome with emotion, chose not to acknowledge Marmaduke's infantile behaviour.

There was a standing ovation as Roger escorted his partner back to the kitchen. In a single display of dance, Miss Kitty had dramatically changed the way felines perceived her. Hitherto she had merely been an ageing companion of old Mr Horse, but now she had become revered. There was far more to this feline than anyone would have imagined, yet Miss Kitty's self-effacing modesty and kind-hearted nature belied a very noble and talented queen. Delores hobbled over to Miss Kitty and offered congratulations. The ever-modest little spinster tried to play down the applause, but cheering continued unabated.

Eventually, Roger beckoned Miss Kitty and they promenaded to centre stage and gave deep theatrical bows!

Marmaduke sneaked back to the piano as if he were about to pounce on a mouse and gave Ruben an unfriendly shove as the stand-in gathered up his sheet music. The old ginger tom snarled, “Time for some real music, so grab your horn, were about to start.�

Norbert resumed his place alongside Ruben, while Dudley stood by the piano waiting to improvise on mouth organ. On a count of four, Marmaduke launched into the country-rock song, Mr Rochester which was his way of reassuring the audience that he was back in charge.

Old Marmie was fired up and wanted to let everyone know he was definitely top-cat in the music department. The band went through a mixture of rock n roll and soul music. Norbert and Ruben paired well together in the soul numbers, adding depth to Marmie's rock n roll. Although a talented jazz

musician, Marmie had a point to prove and hammering the keys to rock music was his way of marking his territory.

From 4.00pm onwards things began to slow and at 4.30pm Aunt Bess called time, reminding everyone that they had homes of their own. She turned to Miss Kitty and thanked her for making the day so special. Miss Kitty smiled in a shy sort of way and said how grateful she was to have been invited, but would have to rest the joints for a day or two after all the excitement.

“Yes, you put your feet up and take it easy, I'll make sure that scoundrel Dudley looks in on thee,” implored Aunt Bess.

Miss Kitty replied, 'Oh yes I will rest-up, but maybe if you have the energy you might like to visit me on Sunday for afternoon tea?'

“Oh Miss Kitty, that would be an honour,” replied Aunt Bess. I'll shove George out of bed a little earlier, so us'll 'ave time to get over and back in daylight.

The felines hugged before Bess called out to Dudley to escort the revered guest home to her little shack by the rail-road.

Maladours!

During the following week, young Billy the Kid arrived around lunchtime looking puzzled. George looked at him and said, “What's up Billy?” The young male smirked a bit, leaned his head to one side before whispering, “I've been having a confidential tete a tete with her on Her On-Top. All nice and cosy with me sat on her lap being stroked as if I were a Persian. She's there telling me all her secrets and I'm just staring straight at her, purring contentedly as if I don't understand a word she's saying. Anyway, Her On-Top is quite contemplative really. She speaks like she's in a dream saying how lucky we are to be feline and not human.”

'She's not wrong there,' said George with Aunt Bess nodding her head in agreement.

Billy continued, “Her On-Top reckons she knows all about this place saying she became aware of it when she noticed me disappearing in the afternoons.”

Bess looked stunned, 'Oh my God we'll have to get out. George, please tell me this isn't appenin.’

The poor woman was beside herself with angst when Billy implored, “Please let me finish for goodness sake,” in a rather assertive way which wasn't at all like Billy.

“Truth is, Her On-Top doesn't dislike us, quite the opposite, in fact she envies us.

Her-on-Top muttered with sadness that she wished she could crawl under the shed each day and escape into what she calls our fantasy-land. She said some afternoons she sits in the lounge with the window open and listens to the distant sounds of music and jollity. She believes that humans have become far too smart for their own good and reckons they've lost the sense of fun. HerOn Top reminisces of summers long-gone when humans sang and danced with joy at street parties, but nowadays they've become dark and dangerous.

George and Bess concurred and Billy continued.

“Seems she likes animals more than humans, she doesn't have many visitors and seems to prefer me and Astrid for company. Says she loathes Animal Control and won't let them on the property.”

Bess looked upward as if looking for divine guidance and shrieked “Eureka, weem' safe! Oh George, give me a hug, you old lummock!”

The pair danced around the kitchen like frisky kittens, before George was reminded by a twinge from a dodgy back just above the tail, so the pair returned to the bench.

After recovering a sense of decorum, George suggested they not get carried away by a sense of false security. He asked Billy to keep mum about the information as the fraternity might be put at risk by dropping their guard.

“Humans can change attitudes at a whim,” George said looking at Billy while winking, “We'll keep this one to ourselves old boy, gently tapping his nose as he spoke.”

Billy then mentioned that Her On-Top grumbled about the smell of cat pee.

George said he wasn't surprised as everyone had used the same spot since the wire netting went up on the lettuce beds!

“What we'll do is have designated spots for boys and girls, then rotate the locations; that should fix it,” he said.

A few minutes later when the regulars had gathered, Uncle George went on stage and opened proceedings by explaining the new sanitation arrangements. As could be expected there were a few mirthful comments which he handled in his stride. He then mentioned that the annual wail at the moon celebration would be held outside the Terrible Trio's barn at the next full moon. Predictably there were hoots of disapproval about malodours, but George reminded them all that Eli, Titus and Spike were staunch allies and had been valiant warriors in the rescue of Billy.

“I thought we might take baskets of sweetmeats and do some circle-dancing before a grand wail when the church clock strikes twelve,” he said.

“I know that wailing is perceived to be a sign of feline senility, but such traditions do have an upside insofar as we can show gratitude to our friends at the barn without having to go inside and endure the grisly sights and malodours of half eaten rats, pigeons, starlings, etcetera, etcetera .” George gravely shook his head from side to side. He peered solemnly at the audience and pleaded, “Aunt Bess would never forgive me if I exposed her fine and exquisite nostrils to the rank and stench of that barn! Nonetheless, our duty must be done, we must extend cordiality to our country cousins.”

Seemingly out of nowhere, Dudley piped up and said, “I'll take my “C#” harmonica to make the atmosphere a bit spooky.”

Bess angrily interjected, “You can leave your beat-box at home. Moon wailing is traditional activity going back to a time before hoomins ruined the place. We wail to our ancestors and connect with their spirits,” she said.

As usual, Dudley couldn't resist the urge to provoke and cheekily asked if it were possible to make contact with the unfortunate souls who had fallen victim

of takeaway shops and ended up in the chop suey!

Aunt Bess launched herself at Dudley, ferociously spitting as she moved through the air, but Dudley's survival instincts ensured he was out of the door faster than a squirt of weasel's pee! Aunt Bess stormed back to the meeting cursing Dudley and saying, “I'll hang for that bugger.”

The night for wailing at the moon duly arrived. Marmaduke had absented himself on account of age, preferring a warm carpet to wandering around outside in the middle of the night. This left a clear path for Ruben and choir to do their thing without the interfering maestro. In a stroke of genius, Ruben managed to acquire a star turn, none other than Madamoiselle Fabienne, a beautiful sleek Persian with stunning white coat and warbly voice. Her rendition of No Regrets would be a guaranteed catalyst for much wailing. The Gibson Singers by now had become quite accomplished, so anticipation was high. That evening, everyone lazed at the Cheshires' waiting for the church clock to strike eleven. At the said hour, the troops mustered and one by one they exited in rapid succession heading north over the fields to the barn.

Uncle George led the charge accompanied by Roger, the dance partner of Delores. A cluster of ladies included Hermione and Alice, Julia and her daughters, Amy, Bella and Carmel of Kit-Chicks fame along with Delores walked alongside Aunt Bess who was loaded to the gunnels with sweetmeats and other treats.

Dudley cautiously approached Aunt Bess and from a safe distance asked if he could carry some of the stuff for her which invoked an inevitable riposte, “Don't think ee can get back into my good books, just by playin' Mr Goody Two Shoes. No, you'm a scoundrel Dudley. Now get 'old of this 'ere basket afore I change my mind and come after thee,” she muttered in threatening tones.

Behind them was Ruben deep in conversation with Madamoiselle Fabienne.

She spoke in heavily accented French. This wasn't lost on Willard and Norbert, (who was still wearing his sunglasses despite the time of night) bringing up the rear of the party. The pair mimicked Fabienne with phrases such as 'I zink' and 'my owse of country' and 'tres bien for Fabienne' amidst cackling laughter.

With the moon shining brightly, the party took just a few minutes to get to the barn where the Terrible Trio were sat on their haunches, paws folded, awaiting the party's arrival.

“Greetings” said George as he led the party into the yard.

Spike looked up with his good eye and said, “Nice evenin' for a celebration.”

'Absolutely splendid night,' replied George, “Trust you young fellas are up for a spot of wailing.”

Spike looked at his brothers and said, “Oh weem' up for anythin' aren't we boys?” to which the other two concurred in unison.

George looked a bit concerned and mentioned that while they hadn't had any direct confrontation on their way over, they did hear dogs barking from what appeared from the barn direction. Eli smiled and spoke in menacing terms, “Dogs don't come in here, except for the master's boys, but they'm alright.

Mind you, tis a pity in some ways we don't get canine visits cos a bit o dog would be a nice change from rats and pigeons wouldn't it boys? Give us ah more, oh what do you call it, oh yes a more balanced diet!”

The Terrible Trio laughed themselves hoarse at the thought. Aunt Bess shook her head in disgust.

The visitors, armed with basic instruments had planned a traditional evening starting with Uncle George singing highland songs and laments. To get things underway George announced they would start with a Scottish Reel when Spike interjected, “No us don't do fancy dancing, us likes maypole, conga and hokey-cokey.

Thereon all hope of retaining any form of decorum disappeared into the ether!

Always the diplomat, George acquiesced to a change of programme, but insisted they still observe the midnight wail. The brothers reluctantly agreed and seemed anxious to get started. The ladies were less enthusiastic having hoped to keep their hosts at arms-length. Such reluctance was eloquently summed up when Delores muttered to herself, “This is filthy work, but someone has to do it!”

Ruben hastily got the musos together and after a brief discussion, a replacement programme was agreed. Spike then approached the group saying, “Us ave got a moosicle request.” Looking at Ruben, Spike said, “You remember that song you sang when you wus a teacher, what was it, “Love on a Farmboys wages. Me an’ the boys love that song. Us could dance to it round the maypole, that would be proper job!”

Within a few seconds Norbert had picked up a banjo and played the intro, dum dum te dum, dum, dum, dum dum dum - dum dum te dum, dum, dum, dum dum dum. “D'you hear that boys,” Spike yelled to his brothers in excitement as Ruben began the lyric: High climbs the summer sun High stands the corn And tonight when my work is done …...

Ruben stopped mid verse to allow dancers to take their places as George hurriedly got the toms to stand in a circle and the girls formed an inner circle.

The dance lacked a tom or three, but out of the dark appeared young Reggie who apologised for being late explaining he'd been held up by some heavyhuman petting. In a high pitched voice he said, “I nearly didn't make it tonight cos Clara wouldn't stop making a fuss of me. I just couldn't get away, but luckily my tummy rumbled and after releasing a couple of clangers, I was unceremoniously given the bum's rush so to speak straight out the back door!”

Such vulgarity did not amuse the more refined ladies present, although the Kit Chicks saw the funny side of it.

George made space for Reggie in the circle, then yelled. “Music maestro please!�

And with that the impromptu group of Norbert on banjo, Willard beating time on a tin can, Dudley beatboxing the bass line (quietly hoping that Aunt Bess wouldn't turn on him) and Ruben doing the vocal. Listen to it here High climbs the summer sun High stands the corn And tonight when my work is done We will borrow your father's carriage We will drink and prepare for marriage Soon my darling, soon my darling ‌..........................

The Maypole dance was a huge success. Even the primmest of queens ignored the odd whiff even though they interlinked in the dance. Everyone seemed totally taken by the moment particularly the three burly farm boys.

After a brief respite with the traditional passing around of sweetmeats, Norbert on sax and Ruben on horn started practicing the conga tune. This was the signal the brothers had been waiting for and quickly placed themselves at the head of a conga chain. George being wise to their intentions was the first to link up behind them and one by one the party formed a huge conga formation.

As is customary practice, the band headed the conga chain and the dancing train moved off around the yard, circling the farm tractor and cart as it went. As they reached the barn door, Titus who was immediately behind Ruben tried to steer him into the barn. Despite his best efforts, Ruben remained on course, so Titus broke off and headed the conga into the barn. Rather than risk the consequences of Aunt Bess' anger, George too broke away from the Terrible Trio leaving the boys to head off alone into the barn of mysterious secrets.

George quickly closed the gap on the musicians and the chain re-formed without the brothers, who by then were exiting the barn on the far side.

Despite having been separated, the boys remained in formation and made their way to the front of the building just in time to rejoin the rear of the conga.

One more complete circle of the yard and the conga was done. Bess went up to George and said, “Thank God you rescued us George, but we need to keep things movin' as the clock is getting close to midnight.

George moved out into the centre of the yard and asked if everyone knew how to do the hokey-cokey. Without waiting for an answer he cajoled everyone into vee shaped formation with himself at the head. He then broke into song and the dancers duly obeyed the instructions, although it has to be said some didn't know their lefts from their rights!

You put your left arm in, your left arm out In, out, in, out, you shake it all about You do the Hokey Cokey and you turn around That's what it's all about.

Whoa-o the Hokey Cokey Whoa-o the Hokey Cokey Whoa-o the Hokey Cokey Knees bent, arms stretched Rah! Rah! Rah! Much fun was had when the two rows came together then backed away. By the end of the dance there were more than one or two ragged felines.

At this point George announced that it was ten minutes to twelve so everyone made their way out to the paddock beyond the yard for the formal part of the celebration. The Gibson Singers and the Kit Chicks formed a semi-circle and

Ruben took his place as conductor. Meanwhile the rest of the gathering completed the circle and the wailing formation was ready.

In full view of the moon, George asked everyone to link paws and focus their thoughts on those who had passed during the year. Names were read out including poor old Alfred and for Bede who had suffered a painful and early passing. As tributes were being read-out, Madamoiselle Fabienne stepped forward looking glamorously Persian with her white coat shining in the moonlight. With head tilted slightly back, the soprano commenced her song, 'Oh No Regrets, No we shall have no regrets ‌...... Her warbly voice, almost too big for such a petite feline pierced the night silence as the group descended into contemplative connection with lost souls. The Gibson Singers conducted by Ruben provided backing vocals while Dudley beatboxed, dum, dum, dum dum. Tears flowed aplenty when the song ended; the group then stood in complete silence awaiting St John's Church to strike midnight.

Nobody moved, nobody spoke, just pure devotional silence prevailed, while everyone waited for the clock. After what seemed like an eternal wait, the clock rang out twelve chimes to signal midnight. The group quickly reformed a circle by linking paws, then Ruben commenced the wailing song and the entire gathering joined in.

I am Wailing I am wailing I am wailing Felines Calling In the night I am wailing, To my forbears

To be near you, To be free The wailing was magnificent, everyone with heads tilted back, wailed to the spirits of the night. At the end there was much hugging and reminiscing before Uncle George hailed the order, “DISPERSE� and in true feline style everyone disappeared in an instant, save for Eli, Titus and Spike who quietly and contentedly strolled back into the barn for a good night's sleep.

Cockney Visitor It was Friday afternoon and Billy the Kid came down to the Cheshire home a little later than usual, accompanied by an elderly gentleman. The old fella was a long-haired black tom with noble whiskers, along with a pure white bib and bowed front legs, reminiscent in some ways of a Queen Anne table! It was immediately noticeable there was something very different about this gentleman. Rapid shoulder movement accompanied everything he said. Every sentence he uttered was suffixed by the idiomatic term, “know what I mean� followed by a wonky sniff.

As soon as there was a break in the music, the usually taciturn Billy took the floor and introduced Corky to everyone. Hello felines, Corky and his mum Ena are guests of Her On-Top for the weekend. They usually stay up in Pukekohe, but originally hail from old country of England from where our forefathers travelled many, many summers ago. Ena and Corky recently flew here in an

aeroplane across the sky. The journey took one sunset compared to hundreds of sunsets our forefathers endured going by sea.

Lots of Oohs and Aahs were heard from the astonished gathering as Billy informed them that Corky would teach them some cockney songs, the ones his human mum had taught him. “Yus,� cried Corky, if you're looking for a knees up, I'll show ya a fing or two.

My mum Ena, now she's a real scholar with a heart of gold. True cockney, born within the sahnd of Bow Bells darn the East End. You know - where the Port of London used to be.�

The audience had not the slightest cue of what this gentleman was talking about. For them, Buckland Road was as far as their little world extended, never mind the other side of the world. Nonetheless, felines being felines were keen to hear more from this strange foreigner.

Corky admitted to not being able to play a musical instrument, but asked for a couple of teaspoons whereupon he held both and started to bang them together on his legs in time with the following pub song: Roll out the barrel - we'll have a barrel of fun.

Roll out the barrel - We've got the blues on the run.

Zing! Boom! Tarrarel! - Ring out a song of good cheer.

Now's the time to roll the barrel - for the gang's all here.

Marmaduke looking mildly mystified by the performance, cleverly picked out chords and by the second verse was playing a very credible accompaniment.

On the zing, boom, tarrarel part, Willard played a booming bass note between each word of the song.

Corky finished the number to measured applause and before the second song, he asked for audience participation. George produced a blackboard and on it wrote the following lyric which Corky recited to him:

Knees up Muvver Brown Knees up Muvver Brown Under the table you must go Ee-aye, Ee-aye, Ee-aye-oh If I catch you bending I'll saw your tails right off Knees up, knees up Never get the breeze up Knees up Muvver Brown (Unable to get any more lyric on the blackboard, George had to write the next verse on the back) Oh my, what a rotten song What a rotten song What a rotten song Oh my, what a rotten song And what a rotten singer Too-oo-ooh Corky quickly ran through the number with Marmie who picked out chords as he went. Corky looked at the audience and asked, “Can we all see the blackbode?” Then before waiting for an answer said, “Good, then we'll start the song,” and pointed to the lyric with a long pencil as he sang: Oh, knees up Muvva Brarn Knees up Muvva Brarn Under the table you must go..............

By the end of the second verse, the audience had the song licked, so it was performed again, but this time Corky accompanied himself on the spoons. At the end of the song he said to the audience with trademark jerky shoulder movements, “What a loverly way to spend an arternoon wiv you lot!” George puffed himself up and said,

“That's the way we do things here in Gibson Road, we like to have fun, buns and lots of tea!”

Corky was quite taken aback by the warmth of fellowship and finished the set with another cockney song, explaining that this number was the one they sang at chucking-out time in pubs, particularly when humans had drunk too much gin. Once again, George scribbled down the lyrics then Corky led the singing: "There's an old mill by the stream, Nellie Dean!

Where we used to sit and dream, Nellie Dean!

And the waters as they flow Seem to murmur soft and low.

You're my heart's desire.

I love you, Nellie Dean! Sweet Nellie Dean! " Listen here if you like; Nellie Dean The rendition was so good, it sounded just like a pub full of drunks. Corky took a deep bow to fond applause and acknowledged by saying, “I thank you.”

Minutes later he remarked to Billy, “Dont know abart you, but arter all that tea, I need to go up the apples and pears for a Nelson Riddle,” then disappeared out the door leaving Billy with a look of mild bewilderment on his face!

Corky returned a few minutes later and said he was struggling with so much tea consumption, to which Billy enquired, “Hey Corky, what's this business about apples and pears and Nelson Riddle ?” Corky smiled and explained to Billy about Cockney rhyming slang. Billy shook his head not understanding the

point of replacing one word with two or three, the whole idea seemed silly to him, but he didn't push the point.

Corky came back on Saturday and did a closing act. Afterwards he bade farewell to everyone then hurried back to his human mum to whom he was devoted.

Corky was never seen again at the Cheshire’s, he was just one of those ships in the night we encounter from time to time. Billy kept a close ear to Her OnTop when she was on the telephone, but no mention of Ena or Corky was ever made again. Maybe they returned to England.

The Dynamic Duo It wasn't long before the feline community again had cause to seek assistance from the Terrible Trio. On a pleasant autumnal day, Hermione and Alice had just turned into Gibson Road en-route to the Cheshires' when out of nowhere sprang a huge and angry bull mastiff. Normally restrained behind a high fence, the lumbering giant was well known to everyone for its ferocious bark and muzzle squeezing threats through gaps in the gate.

Alas today, the tan beast had escaped and wasn't looking to take prisoners.

He hurled himself across the road in the direction of the ladies who had no option but rapidly ascend a magnolia tree, screaming as they went. Hermione exclaimed, “This is no good for my heart,” as the pair continued climbing even though they were already out of harm’s way. The dog paced menacingly around the base of the tree stupidly barking upwards as if to persuade the girls to descend into his frothy jaws! Fortunately, Willard and Norbert had just left home and could hear the girls screaming from as far away as Madill Street, so they hurried themselves to find out what was happening. After crossing George Street, they

hopped garden fences and soon saw the ugly sight of the tan dog barking its head off at Hermione and Alice who were sheltering up a tree.

The boys agreed to split up. Willard headed for the Cheshire’s using a cross country route over gardens and fences to raise the alarm while Norbert positioned himself on a fence adjacent to the magnolia tree. To direct the dog's attention away from the terrified queens, Norbert hissed and spat at the dog.

Each lunge at the fence by the dog was responded to by a bunch of claws from Norbert's menacing paw. It has to be said that Norbert wasn't the most effective fighter. His trademark sunglasses impaired his vision somewhat, although he would argue to the contrary.

A few minutes later, Uncle George appeared atop a nearby fence then made his way cautiously to Norbert. He consoled the girls up the tree telling them that help was on its way and to sit-tight for the time being. George then turned to Norbert and whispered, “This is a rum do isn't it!�

Norbert nodded in agreement while parrying upward lunges from the angry dog. George then whispered to Norbert that Aunt Bess had gone over to the barn to muster the farm boys, so hopefully they wouldn't have too long to wait.

A few minutes passed before two little spots appeared on the horizon which gradually got bigger and bigger until it became obvious the cavalry was on its way! George could make out it was Eli and Titus bounding down the road looking as menacing as ever. They got to within ten paces of the dog, growled and spat at the menacing animal. The dog immediately bounded at them, but both boys rolled out of harm's way. When the dog turned around, there was just Eli facing the monster. Titus had already jumped on the fence a few feet away from George and Norbert leaving poor Eli to slug it out with the dog.

Titus seemed extremely agitated and kept shouting instructions to Eli who was ducking and diving the jaws of the dog. “Titus angrily demanded “Get the bugger closer, what do you think I is, Superman!”

A few second later he said, “that's better, just a bit more, bit more.” Eli continued to back away from the dog in the direction of the fence, then all of a sudden Titus whispered, “That'll do,” and hurled himself in the direction of the dog landing square on its back and lunged his claws deeply into the dog's flesh to secure himself. The dog gave out a hideous squeal, turned around and then got the old one-two across his snout from a fired up Eli. Titus stealthily clawed his way along the hapless dog’s back until he could whisper into the ear of his victim.

“Now listen-up hard, you useless canine, weem very angry about you upsetting our ladies,” while cruelly digging his claws ever deeper to emphasise the message.

“Us boys is from the farm and us don't play to no Queensbury Rules or the Law of Hoyle, us just gets stuck in if you sees what I means.”

The claws sank in deeper and the dog whimpered sadly.

“Now if you knows what is good for ee, you'll take your ugly-self back tother side of that fence and stay there, otherwise you might end up as dog chops.”

Eli licked his lips in a concurring way and said, “That, right Titus, us 'ave been sayin' us needs a bit more variety in our diets!”

With that, Titus hopped off the hapless canine who immediately legged it as fast as he could across the road and out of sight. The girls then timidly made their descent from the magnolia, Titus held out his paw for Hermione, Eli did likewise for Alice and the two ladies were escorted in style up to 66 Gibson Road.

Needless to say, once they arrived at the Cheshire tunnel, the boys were given a hero's welcome and George insisted they go inside for some bonhomie.

Titus turned to George and asked,

“Are you sure?”

Without waiting for an answer, he said, “I know us country boys 'ums a bit and some of the ladies screws up their noses at us.”

Hermione turned to Titus and lied through her teeth in the most aristocratic manner, “Nonsense Titus, you boys are heroes. If it weren't for you, we'd still be up that awful tree. No, a little whiff here and the odd whiff there is no problem,” she said as she waved a handkerchief in the air to fan the malodours. The look on Alice's face was anything but approving, nonetheless the gathering proceeded indoors.

Over a lunch of sticky buns and doughnuts, the boys explained that Spike had gone off to see a lady-friend over in Puni.

“Oh really,” said George in an enquiring manner.

“Yes really,” exclaimed the brothers in unison, nodding their heads and grinning from ear to ear. Eli couldn't hold back, “Our Spike has a crush for a lady. Mind you, I think he only sees 'er with his bung eye, cos she ain't much to look at.”

George was beside himself with interest, turned his head on an angle and whispered, “Would I know her?”

Titus replied, “Well if you don't, you're the only tom this side of the river that don't, ain't that right Eli!” Eli nodded in agreement with a wry smile that extended from ear to ear.

George then enquired as to the queen's name and Eli replied, “Well, her real name is Jemima, but everyone knows her as 'Slack Alice' on account of all the boyfriends she 'ave 'ad, if you gets what us means!

“A lot of felines in Puni have a mother called Jemima!” Eli exclaimed, nodding and winking in unison with his brother.

Titus then reminded his brother of the need to get back to the barn. “You see it's not just the barn us 'ave to look after for the master, there's all the other outbuildings to be patrolled and root crop paddocks where the vermin do feast unless we gets to 'em first, then us feeds on them, don't us Eli?� His brother nodded and grinned, then walked over to band member Ruben and whispered something in his ear.

Ruben in turn had a brief tete a tete with Marmie and Norbert, then the band struck up. The dynamic duo immediately inveigled Hermione and Alice into their paw-linking dance while Ruben sang 'Love on a Farmboys Wages with Norbert on guitar. The rest of the gathering encircled the dancers, enthusiastically paw-clapping in time to the music.

All too soon the song ended and the dynamic duo bade farewells before disappearing back to the barn for another rat catching session.

Trouble Brewing After a particularly challenging day devoted to hedonistic pursuits, Uncle George snuggled up beside his ample queen and whispered, “You know Bess we are most fortunate to have such a thriving gathering that serves the needs of all, well nearly all of us.”

Aunt Bess gave one of her stares that could best be described as deadly at twenty 20 paces and retorted, 'And what does you mean by that George Cheshire?'

“Oh, nothing really,” said George, “It's just that, Well it's ah, Well it's like this, Oh how can I put it.” Bess interjected sharply, 'For goodness sake George, come out with it and be quick, otherwise us 'll be 'earin' the crows at daybreak.'

With a look of mild anguish, George gingerly came out with what was bothering him.

'You see Bess, I've had an approach from Roger who, as you know is a splendid chap, first class tom and he's been wondering if we might add, now please don't bite my head off Bess, well, if we might also be able to serve coffee as Madamoiselle Fabienne doesn't drink tea.

Bess' eyes narrowed and she snarled, “Well what do you expect, she's French.”

George replied, 'Well that really has nothing to do with it.'

“Oh yes it does George Cheshire,” squealed Aunt Bess' objection. Referring to George by his full name was a sure sign of angst!”

“It's got everythin' to do with it. Er demandin 'er French customs.”

“No George, the answer is definitely NO, otherwise next thing we'll be 'avin' to serve snails, frogs legs and all sorts of wallage!”

“If 'er wants coffee then 'er will 'ave to 'ave 'er own parties and she'd be able to count the numbers on one paw, I can tell ee!”

'George pleaded to Bess' better nature and asked, 'What is it that makes you dislike the French so much?'

Bess responded with venom, “Cos they'm French, that should be enough for anyone. You know back in the old country the ancestors reckoned they used to invade the country on bicycles loaded to the gunnels with onions, yes onions if you've ever heard of such a thing! Going back further there was Napoleon and even further back the Norman invasion.”

George looked quizzical and said, 'But Bess, Fabienne is hardly William the Conqueror is she!'

“No and this ain't Hastings in 1066 neither. If you'm not careful she'll be in here dividin' the place up into estates for her favoured few. Look to history George, I'm tellin ee! You may think it's just a cup of coffee, in reality it's a French way of splittin' the community.”

George looked at Aunt Bess with dismay and pleaded, 'You know our side hasn't always been so squeaky clean. What if Fabienne countered your stance and asked why our side burnt Joan of Arc?' Bess retorted, “Oh that's easy, cos us wus cold.”

George turned gravely to his partner and declared, 'Bess we'll resolve this tomorrow by putting it to a vote. Should a motion to

include a new beverage be turned down, we'll do the gracious thing and serve mademoiselle a cup of hot water from which she can add whatever she pleases. I'm sure we can avoid a huge issue which, if I may be so bold as to say so, is no more than a storm in a teacup.'

“Storm in a coffee mug more like,” sighed Aunt Bess in a resigned and gloomy way.

The next day being Friday, so a good crowd was anticipated. Aunt Bess busied herself in the kitchen while George made a splendid performance of looking industrious when he was really doing very little, merely wandering around interspersed with brief interludes of racing hither and thither for no apparent reason. Such are the vagaries of feline existence, it is entirely acceptable to behave spontaneously and in startling manner!

While the band tuned-up, Roger made a grand appearance with a red rose buttonhole and matching kerchief. Uncle George rushed up to him offering a paw after which he excitedly explained the good news that a general vote of approval was being sought for the introduction of coffee to the beverage list.

Roger said, “Magnifique George, do we need to do any lobbying as I can't wait to see Fabienne here again.”

George assuming his more serious nature turned to Roger and whispered, 'Despite the need for democracy, I will sell it to the gathering in a way they can't resist, but don't quote me on this, otherwise I'll end up in the doghouse with you know who!”

“Quite,” said Roger.

At two minutes past one, Marmaduke nodded to Uncle George that the band was ready to start and George proclaimed, “Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, felines all, today we will be holding a

referendum on a proposal that we introduce a more international flavour to our beverage list. While tea is and always will be, the preferred choice, there is a proposal to be a little more flexible with our continental guests.”

“Pandering to frogs, that's what I calls it.”

The voice was heard coming from the kitchen, a comment Uncle George chose to ignore, explaining that at the end of the first band break, a show of hands would be called.

'So with no further ado, it is over to you Mr Maestro and the wonderful Gibson Orchestra!'

In his inimitable way, Marmaduke added a bit of mirth by inveigling Ruben to swap horn for piano and play Blue Skies and White Clouds while he elevated himself to conductor. This was surely evidence that relations between the two musicians had warmed to the point of mutual respect.

The band played several numbers and in seemingly no time at all Marmaduke signaled it was time for a break. At this point, Roger and George circulated the audience lobbying for 'yes' votes while Aunt Bess warned all and sundry that coffee drinking was the start of a slippery slope. As often happens, politics can cause havoc in domestic situations. Spider and Julia, following many unpleasant exchanges moved as far away from each other on the grounds that Spider being a traditionalist and Francophobe, didn't want any nasty French habits spoiling their tea parties, while Julia told Spike to let-go of prejudice and vote for the motion. To the surprise of many, young Dudley industriously canvassed on behalf of the 'yes' lobby for the twofold reason that he had a ready supply of coffee along with a fancy whizzer that would make the coffee frothy! He rapidly moved around the gathering showing off little packets of coffee powder along with his prized whizzer which looked remarkably like a miniature egg beater. George spotted Dudley displaying his

acquisitions to Hermione and Alice. He approached Dudley and asked where he had acquired the goodies.

“Now that's between I and the cat-flap, Uncle George,” said Dudley, winking with one eye while tapping his nose and smiling wryly.

George returned the smile and soon after called for a show of hands by saying, “Felines it is now decision time. The motion is; Do we serve coffee or just stick to tea?”

Amid lots of muttering, George called for a show of paws from those in favour.

A total of fifteen paws were raised, among which were two from Dudley.

George looking more than a little angry told Dudley to stop abusing proceedings and put one paw down. Dudley responded with conviction, “NO, this 'ere paw is my vote and this un is a proxy vote for Miss Kitty! Due to the fact that I visits 'er most days and takes her in the odd starling for supper, she has appointed me as her proxy at gatherings including U-Off Lodge matters.”

“So there you are, count em both!”

Aunt Bess, spitting with rage proclaimed, “Don't be fooled by that scoundrel, 'Ee's a snake in the grass if ever there was one.”

Norbert objected to the remark, by looking at George and saying, “Point of order Mr Chairman, Personal marks are not allowed when a ballot is being conducted and the member must be asked to withdraw the comment.”

George looking rather timid, put on his bravest face and demanded Aunt Bess recant her outburst. Bess did so by muttering very quietly and returned to her domain in the kitchen.

Uncle George then asked for a show of paws in favour (including Dudley's two) while Willard acted as scrutineer. Yes votes were clearly the majority with fifteen paws, but George sticking to protocols asked for the 'nays' and only five paws were counted including those of Aunt Bess and Spider.

George then announced the result, “With fifteen votes in favour and just five against, I hereby declare the motion carried! From tomorrow onwards, both tea and coffee will be served!”

A loud cheer went up and George holding aloft his right paw, called for music.

At the end of the party, George announced that Saturday would be Vive la France Day. “Felines, it is with great joy that I announce that Madamoiselle Fabienne will arrive in the morning and supervise the preparation of French pastries and treats,” said George.

Heads could be seen nodding in approval, while Aunt Bess looked to the heavens for inspiration! George continued, “Marmaduke will rehearse the Kit-Chicks in the morning, then Ruben and Mlle Fabienne will run through their numbers.”

George looked towards Ruben and said, “More Edith Piaf methinks, so I want all of you to try and bring some tricolore decorations as we want to make it a special day for each and every one of us.”

Julia enquired if the Gibson Singers would be required, but Ruben said there simply wasn't time, however if the party was a success then he would gather some traditional French material for a future event.

Marmaduke interjected, “I'll see what I can do with the Kit-Chicks in the morning. Irritating though they are, sometimes to the point of being infuriating, we may just be able to squeeze a little Francais out of them. That is, if I can stop them giggling for long enough!

Sympathetic murmurs were uttered in support.

As the crowd filed their way out, Aunt Bess boomed out to Dudley,

“Scoundrel!”

Dudley responded and Aunt Bess hollered, “Yes, I means you and don't look so surprised. Us ‘as only one dark character in the lodge 'aven't us!”

Dudley ignored the rhetorical question and Aunt Bess continued, “Now I wants ee to call in on Miss Kitty on your way 'ome, cos I needs an extra paw and some moral support, if I is to get through the morrow!

Vive La France Day Saturday morning at the Cheshire’s was a hive of activity. Felines arrived from 9.30 onwards, ladened with all sorts of red, white and blue booty to decorate the venue. Soon the place was awash with tricolore steamers made from neck scarves, bits of paper and anything that the felines could get their paws on.

Miss Kitty looking prim and proper as always, arrived at 9.45 am, escorted by Dudley. Soon thereafter, Mlle Fabienne appeared wearing a headscarf accompanied by Roger, resplendent in a light blue suit, matching bowtie and handkerchief in breast pocket.

“Bonjour everyone, said Roger. Miss Kitty responded first with a very proper, “Bonsoir Madamoiselle, bonjour Monsieur.”

The gesture rankled with Aunt Bess, who urged the ladies to take up their stations in the kitchen, as there was much to do. Before long, under the direction of Mlle Fabienne, the place became a hive of activity. As a form of courtesy, the Mlle asked, 'As siz is a France Day, maybe we could prepare chocolat' eclairs and some madeleines. I am sure zuh guests will enjoy zem.'

In no time at all, Miss Kitty was rolling out chou pastry for the first time in her life and turned to Bess, 'Do you know Bess, I am quite excited about today.'

Bess grumbled, “Twill be OK, just so long as they keeps they frogs legs and snails to 'emselves.”

Meanwhile, Marmaduke was struggling with the precocious Kit-Chicks, trying to teach them to sing Alouette. Although a French-Canadian song with rather strange lyrics, it didn't seem to matter as long as it was sung in French. After a few faulty starts with lots of silliness, the Kit-Chicks finally got the tune licked!

Uncle George supervised the volunteers put up the decorations. In no time, the place looked splendid, bedecked in all manner of red, white and blue. Back in the kitchen, the first batch of eclairs came out of the oven and were cooling down before receiving the chocolat' topping and cream inserts. The madeleines were still baking and the air was filled with glorious mouthwatering aromas. Despite forebodings in some quarters, the atmosphere in the kitchen was truly cordial, with Miss Kitty showing great interest in Mlle Fabienne. She asked the Mlle's about her singing repertoire and remarked, “Oh I do like that song you performed at the Wailing Ceremony, do you remember?”

'Oh zat was Edith Piaf. I am so 'appy you like zis song. Today I zing another one of her songs,' said Fabienne and wanting to know whether Miss Kitty had heard of Edith Piaf, the late French singer.

“Oh, I'm afraid not, but dare say I'll recognise the tunes,” said Miss Kitty.

By now Marmaduke had done his bit with the Kit-Chicks and the Mlle turned to the kitchen ladies smiling sweetly and said, 'Now I must go and re-'urse ze music.'

By mid-day the baking was done and the performers had a quiet lunch. Willard and Norbert arrived and were setting the band up, while Dudley demonstrated his prowess at making frothy coffee. He asked the Mlle whether she would like a cup to which she replied, 'I only take cafe noir' and proceeded to make herself a black coffee. Dudley appearing somewhat bemused, continued with his whizzer turning out cappuccinos at a rapid rate. While Aunt Bess and Miss

Kitty stuck with tea, members of the band were eager to try the new frothy coffee Dudley was concocting.

Willard turned to Dudley and asked, “Is there no limit to your talents young Dudley!”

Aunt Bess peered into the heavens for divine guidance while muttering one or two profanities under her breath.

It was five minutes to one and Uncle George was on his meet and greet duty, dressed for the occasion in a French striped shirt, beret and red kerchief. As guests drifted in, George greeted them by name, “Bonjour, Hermione, Bonjour Mlle Alice. Splendid theme don't you think. Bonjour Julia, Bonjour Spider, lovely to see you.”

As soon as all the regulars had arrived, George made his way to centre-stage and welcomed everyone to Vive La France Day. He made a brief speech, remarking how lucky they were to have Mlle Fabienne with them and how much he was looking forward to the delicious French pastries awaiting their attention.

Following roars of enthusiasm, George in his inimitable way held paw aloft and called, “Music maestro please.”

At this point Ruben stepped forward and commenced a few bars on his horn of what sounded like the Marseillaise which soon morphed into the Beatles, All you need is Love. With Marmaduke on vocals and the Kit-Chicks helping out with harmonies, the afternoon got off to a roaring start.

Next up was Fabienne, the star turn. With Ruben on piano and Marmaduke conducting, she commenced with Edith Piaf's Milord. So typically French, the audience soon joined in, notwithstanding the fact the song was being sung in French! Willard accompanied on drums and Dudley improvised on harps.

It was a huge success and after thanking the audience, Mlle Fabienne introduced her next number, another Edith Piaf song featuring a saxophone solo by Norbert. The audience cheered as she launched into La Vie En Rose.

Soon this exotic white-haired lady had them all swooning form side to side. At the end of the number, amidst cheers there were calls of; “Encore, encore”.

When the applause had abated, Mlle Fabienne said she was going to do another song. “Now zis song has a French and English version, so I am going to ask Aunt Bess to help me perform it,” she said. For once Bess was lost for something to say and just hurried to the stage in her matching turban and booties. She nervously smiled at the audience not quite knowing what was coming next. At that moment, Uncle George appeared with placards that Ruben had written the lyric on. Fabienne asked that everyone join in and they went into Beyond the Sea. By the second verse, Aunt Bess was captivated by the song. Norbert accompanied them on guitar and Willard on drums. At the end, Aunt Bess and Fabienne embraced in mutual appreciation. A triumph was scored for international relations! The audience was pleased too!

Next up, it was the turn of The Kit-Chicks with Marmaduke looking relieved to be back in charge, at the piano. As always, the Kit-Chicks were acting-up but after a muted spit from Marmaduke they calmed down and got into Alouette.

Marmaduke did the backing vocal as the girl band strutted their stuff. At the end of the song there was much appreciation for the Kit-Chicks versatility.

An interval was then called and refreshments taken. A few cups of coffee were consumed by some who seemed captivated by the frothy effect of Dudley's whizzer, however tea still remained the preferred beverage. The eclairs and madeleines were a huge hit with everyone. Many a whisker could be seen

carrying a trace or two of whipped cream and in no time the delicacies had completely disappeared.

Time was passing rapidly and there were one or two ragged looking felines in the gathering, so after three more songs from the band, George moved to centre stage to close the event.

“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, felines all. What a wonderful afternoon we've all had. I must say that in the popularity stakes, tea – our favourite beverage is still numero uno with us!”

“Nonetheless it is especially gratifying to see the spirit of feline comradeship extends across cultures. That is something humans could learn from us, but they're all too preoccupied looking into those silly little screens to observe the wider world, never mind us!”

Hoots of support came from the audience and George in his avuncular way motioned with both paws for silence, then said, “I am going to ask our most senior and venerated feline, Miss Kitty to offer a vote of thanks.”

With a specially written address in paw, Miss Kitty walked daintily over to the stage in her trademark pinnie, pinc-nez and lace-up boots, to loud applause.

She began, “Felines, today has been a very special day for all of us. Mlle Fabienne has really given us an insight into French cuisine and performed some wonderful music. To think I had never heard of chou pastry until today, ah but that goes to prove that even after eighteen summers there is always something new to learn. I also want to mention Ruben for his sterling accompaniment and, to my dear friend Marmaduke who, with the Kit-Chicks added something special to the event. So, now I am going to ask you all to give the loudest wail of appreciation you can, loud enough for that dreadful woman on-top to hear!” The response was deafening!

The Joyride One sunny evening following a most distressing visit to the VEE-EE-T, young Billy the Kid, raged with venom and headed straight for the Cheshire's.

In a surprising burst of spitting and growling, Billy unleashed a flood of vituperative about feline abuse, gratuitous cruelty by needle and worst still, being transported in a ridiculous van, apparently the new found pride and joy of Her-On-Top. He wailed at the top of his voice, "After what the SPCA has done to me, you'd think, they'd leave me alone, but no such luck. " "Her-On-Top has arranged to have me stabbed at one-summer intervals." " But why oh why,” said Billy, “And more to the point, why ME? What I can't understand is that Astrid the dog, goes along with it all. She hops into that absurd vehicle without a care in the world.”

Billy paused for a moment and said, “Dogs don't seem to have any sense of impending danger, do they!”

With grim looks on their faces, the Cheshire's concurred that enforced medical treatment was egregious abuse of felines and that some kind of retaliation was appropriate. Young Dudley, who had hung around after the party, (much to the dismay of Aunt Bess) joined in the chin wag. He suggested taking a joyride in the silly van. This evoked wide smiles and lots of head-nodding in approval.

Dudley reckoned he could swing on the lanyard that hung from the ignition keys and get the van started, after which he could easily operate the pedals by sitting on the floor and work them with his paws. Uncle George seemed totally seduced by the challenge and in the heat of the moment, completely forgot the obligations of high-office, namely that of U-Off Grand Lodge Master. Such behaviour would not go down well at area level, nonetheless the ageing tom enthusiastically undertook to steer the vehicle and imitating a driver as he spoke. Billy said the automatic garage door could pose a problem, but offered to leap-up and press the button. Aunt Bess, (not usually known for being a thrill seeker) found the lure of a ride in that silly van just too good to pass up.

In a contemplative way, George gave a wide-eyed stare in Billy's direction and enquired, “You know Billy we always refer to that dreadful woman as Her-on-Top, but do you have any idea of her real name?”

Billy replied without hesitation, “As far as I can make-out, she's called Edith Crabtree. Rather suits a woman with hefty hands, big feet and a lashing tongue don't you think!”

George chuckled. “Well, in that case we are going to borrow Mrs Crabtree's silly van and go for a ridiculous ride. So, let's not ponder too long before we talk ourselves out of it.

Soon thereafter the four felines stalked up the cut, emerged from the shed and made their way around to the garage, entering via the cat flap. Lucky for them the driver's window of the van was open, so one by one they hopped in.

Dudley proceeded to swing like a trapeze artist on the key lanyard in an effort

to get the motor started, while Uncle George took the wheel in a standing position. Aunt Bess sat primly on the passenger seat as Billy performed a jackin-the-box routine next to the garage-door-button with huge practice leaps into the air.

All of sudden the engine sprang into life. Billy then connected with the appropriate garage door button and dived headlong through the van window in a space behind Uncle George, landing unceremoniously on Aunt Bess' lap.

After a short scuffle and some harsh words, Billy found himself wedged between the ample rump of Aunt Bess and the van's passenger door!

Meanwhile George, after managing to get the handbrake released, fiddled impatiently with the gear stick, then voila they were moving!

'Tally ho', screamed Aunt Bess.

Uncle George then called, "More power, more power" Given that paws can be challenging when operating a steering wheel, it was little wonder that progress was somewhat erratic! Turning left out of the drive was a bit wobbly, but things would only get worse. In no time at all the van perilously wended its way down Gibson Road lurching from side to side, often mounting pavements, terrifying children and animals as it went.

No matter how hard Uncle George tried, driving in a straight line was something that just didn't seem to happen. The poor old van being extremely tall and top heavy, lurched at every movement of the wheel, in fact it seemed that the body was trying to escape from the wheels. Aunt Bess sat aghast with mouth wide open, frequently emitting ”Oohs” and “Aahs”. Billy just hung on for dear life and remained silent. Meanwhile down on the floor, Dudley struggled to interpret Uncle George's instructions. He would hear,

“More speed,” “Less speed,” “Brake.”

Instructions given in rapid succession were confusing to Dudley. Nonetheless, as the vehicle reached the George Street intersection, George called for less speed, but in the confusion, Dudley hit the accelerator. George desperately screamed, “Brake.”

Dudley's response on the pedal brought the van to a sudden halt. Alas the vehicle had overshot the stop sign and was sat precariously in the middle of George Street whereupon a large stock truck, bearing down from the right, was frantically sounding its horn. George screamed, “Speed.”

So, a rather confused Dudley hit the accelerator with such force the van leapt forward and headed towards the stockyard fences. George struggled desperately to turn the van, but they mounted the pavement, slid along the stockyard fence, missed a power-pole by a whisker then careered back on to the road. As the van jumped the pavement and on to the road, George attempted to steer the vehicle into the direction of the town, but a combination of full steering lock and power full-on, was a disastrous mix. As the front wheels hit the road, the back of the vehicle pirouetted around and the van unceremoniously toppled onto its roof! The hapless vehicle looked a sorry sight laying upside-down in the road with wheels still spinning.

The feline occupants, ended up spread-eagled across the inside of the roof, looking at one another for inspiration. George realising there was imminent danger, gave the order to scarper, so the four felines legged it with alacrity.

Being older than the rest, George hadn't fared so well when the van toppled and the impact had aggravated an old spinal injury. Holding his back as he ran, the elder statesman struggled to keep up with others.

Bess bellowed, “Oh, do 'urry up George, us'll be in a load of bother if us gets caught for this lot.�

The felines rapidly ducked and dived their way up Gibson Road as sirens from emergency vehicles wailed. Nonetheless, one by one they arrived back at No 66, each one promptly disappearing under the shed, down the slope and into the Cheshire residence. No sooner was the door finally closed than Aunt Bess announced she would be brewing tea to calm the nerves.

Meanwhile, back at the scene of the mishap, onlookers circled the vehicle to assist in rescuing the occupants, but to their amazement they found the van was completely empty. Old Styles and his son Jonathan from the dairy just up

the road, had walked down after hearing the loud bang when the Shnail overturned.

Amazed to see no-one inside, someone mentioned that a mob of feral cats had fled the scene immediately after the crash. Styles turned to his son Jonathan and wondered, “Would it be beyond the realms of imagination to believe that those mischievous feral cats were involved in this mess?”

Jonathan looked at his father grimly and said, 'After what they did to our place, I wouldn't put anything past them.'

“You're right there boy,” said old Styles, shaking his head in dismay before asking, “So who does the van belong to?”

An elderly woman turned to Styles and said it belonged to Mrs Crabtree who lived up Gibson Road.

“Poor woman,” exclaimed Styles, remembering full well the night when his dairy was raided.

'Animal Control will have to do something about the feral cat menace,' said Jonathan. The bemused crowd nodded in unison.

In seemingly no time at all, the local fire-brigade arrived. Six burly firemen were able to lift the upturned vehicle and place it on its side, on the grassy berm, before another lift completely righted the vehicle. At that moment a rather red-faced Mrs Crabtree appeared, after running all the way down Gibson Road. Despite being puffed-out she said, “Did anyone see who stole the Shnail? Not waiting for an answer, Mrs Crabtree, hurriedly opened the driver's door and seeing the keys were still in the ignition, gave the engine a turn and the vehicle sprang into life. Delighted that her beloved Shnail was still in one piece, she shared her joy and pressed a special button that made the van whinny like a horse, much to the amusement of onlookers.

“A few bumps and scratches can soon be fixed and the Shnail will be as good

as new,” hailed Mrs Crabtree as she walked around her beloved van, readjusting the door mirrors and removing bits of grass and mud as she went.

She thanked all those present, especially the boys from the fire brigade for righting her vehicle from a bottoms-up position. She then got into her 'pride and joy' and drove home with the Shnail whinnying all the way up Gibson Road!

Bright and early next morning, Animal Control paid a visit to Old Misery Guts.

'Now look here Mr Ah, we had a nasty incident last when a stolen vehicle overturned outside the stockyards. Witnesses report a mob of feral cats scarpering after the incident.'

“So what,” retorted Misery Guts 'So what,' said the officer, 'Those ferals are becoming a serious threat to the town.'

“But what has this got to do with me and my beloved Marmaduke?”

'I just need to eliminate your cat from potential suspects,' said the officer.

Old Misery Guts' eyes narrowed and he sniggered, “So you've come to interrogate a cat, have you! That will be interesting to watch as no one as yet has managed meaningful dialogue with a feline, let alone this old fella. But hang on a second,” “Where's the evidence linking my cat to the incident? Go on man, tell me!”

There was a long pause before Old Misery Guts launched a second volley of vituperative, “Interrogating a cat, are you off your head man?”

'No' said the officer, 'I just want to see if he has any injuries or cuts that might link your cat to the incident.'

Old Misery Guts then turned and grabbed Marmaduke standing close by. Even though Marmaduke knew nothing about the accident, he nonetheless growled and spat violently through gaps in his teeth. The animal control officer loudly protested and reminded old Misery Guts that he had misled him on a previous visit about the dental state of the feline.

No, you're quite wrong,” protested Misery Guts.

“You see the last time you visited, the animal had all his teeth, but due to a recent abscess has lost a few incisors,” lied the cat owner.

“He's not a perfect specimen, but there again, if I took a closer look at you, I'm sure I'd find more than just a few teeth missing,” remarked Misery Guts in a sarcastic manner. For once he managed a smile.

The Animal Control Officer seeing that the visit was getting him nowhere, took his leave, saying he would be back to impound the cat as soon as evidence turned up.

“Don't hold your breath old chap,” shouted Misery Guts as he closed the door with Marmaduke still in his arms.

Later that day, Uncle George addressed the audience at the start of the day's party.

“Ladies and gentleman, felines one and all, I stand here before you today to distance our community from allegations connecting us to an incident involving the ugly van belonging to Her-On-Top.” With one paw gently massaging a sore spot just above his tail as he spoke, George put on a brave face.

To the more observant feline, the MCs stiffened posture seemed at odds to his claim of not being involved in the joyride. Unabashed, George declared the party open and hailed in his inimitable way, “Music maestro please.”

With Norbert switching to guitar and Marmaduke sporting a sneaky grin, the piano player began singing; Asked a girl what she wanted to be She said baby, Can't you see I wanna be famous, a star on the screen But you can do something in between

Baby you can drive my car Yes I'm gonna be a star Baby you can drive my car And maybe I love you The song was received with roars of raucous laughter which was almost too much for Uncle George. Rather than endure the embarrassment of everyone laughing at his expense, he decided to go small and find out what happened at Her-On-Top's after the incident. Billy too, was keeping a low profile as everyone seemed to know exactly who had been involved. The crowd sniggered among themselves and a fair bit of surreptitious paw-pointing ensued. George sneaked around the back of the audience and found Billy having a quiet tete a tete with Julia from Elizabeth Street.

“Excuse me Billy,” said George.

Billy smiled and whispered to George about the host's noticeable aches and pains.

Julia turned to George and said, “You look rather nervous and shaken up Uncle George.”

'No, nothing wrong Julia, just the odd tweak that comes from ageing,' George replied.

He then asked Billy if he could have a quiet word and asked Julia to excuse them both. The two found a dimly lit corner and with head shaking, the party host said, “My back is giving me gip I can tell you Billy. It's a good job Aunt Bess and you are OK. As for Dudley, just look at him up there on stage playing his mouth organ as if nothing had happened. Seems to me that Dudley takes everything in his stride, he just lives for the moment. Dare say what happened yesterday has evaporated from his memory! Meanwhile, Aunt Bess as you can see, is using aggression to keep everyone out of range.

“Anyway Billy, what was the reception like when you got home last night, HerOn-Top not taking it too badly is she?”

'Not at all Uncle George, in fact she seemed philosophical about the event, almost as if she knew who did it.”

George expressed worries that Her-On-Top might send in Animal Control to flush out the commune. Billy smiled and said, 'Oh, don't concern yourself about that Uncle. The Animal Control man came around this morning to reassure Mrs Crabtree that he was “on the job” so to speak, but wasn't well received. Her-On-Top went ballistic at the man saying that he should take his net and round-up human scoundrels that lurked the streets.

“Leave the animals alone,” she told him. She then hollered with extreme anger, “Grab your paraphernalia and get off my land, if you know what's best for you.”

She then paused for a moment before adding, “And don't come back!” before slamming the door with a tremendous thud!

“Oh, thank goodness for that,” said George, “You know Aunt Bess didn't sleep a wink last night, worrying about the possible consequences.”

'She needn't have worried,' said Billy, 'Even after the unfortunate mishap, Her-On-Top continued her evening rituals as if nothing had happened. She sat on the sofa with Astrid on the left and me on the right. She stroked us both and said that a few bumps and scratches on the van could easily be fixed, but the main thing was that her “family” as she regards us, was safe and well.'

George looked inquisitive and said, “Do you think she might have an inkling of who was responsible?”

'Dare say,' replied Billy, 'But, regardless of getting me stabbed with a needle, Her-On-Top is very protective towards us animals,' said Billy.

'I'm beginning to wonder if she believes the stabbings are for my benefit.'

George smiled and whispered, “Dare say Billy, but it is nice to know that Her-On-Top is maybe not so bad as we thought. Perhaps we should regard Miss Crabtree as unofficial patron of our community. What do you say Billy?”

'Most definitely.'

Billy looked George in the eyes and whispered, 'You know, Her-On-Top is very good to Astrid and me. She's far more concerned about animal welfare than she is about humans.'

“Quite,” said George, “Quite.”

The afternoon continued in the usual way, save for mine-host keeping a very low profile. Alas at 4.30 pm, when Aunt Bess had had enough of keeping people at bay, she called time by reminding everyone they all had homes to go to.

All Things Must Pass!

As time passes, things change and the ninth life of every feline expires. Young Billy The Kid became 'Old Billy' and eventually expired. So too did Her On-Top along with the dog Astrid, but life springs eternal for Aunt Bess and Uncle George Cheshire, Marmaduke and Reggie, Norbert, Willard, Ruben, Roger, that scoundrel Dudley, The Terrible Trio along with the rest of the gang who hang out every afternoon up Gibson Rd. Unlike us, they'll never grow old or change their way of life. These very special felines will go on warming hearts and minds of readers for generations to come.

List of Characters: Marmaduke - the piano player Reggie - Marmaduke's beloved son Aunt Bess - the cook – bon vivant Uncle George - the aristocat Billy the Kid - the new kid on the block Ruben - horn player, crooner, entertainer

Norbert – sax Dudley - the hobo with harps Willard – the drummer Mr Singh Spider & Julia-from Elizabeth Street, Kit-Chicks parents The Kit - Chicks - 3 singing sisters Amy, Bella & Carmel Hermione & Alice - posh sisters from Dominion Rd Delores - Aristocratic white Burmese The Terrible Trio - Eli, Titus and Spike Renamed - Tiger, Anastasia and Anoushka U-OFF Candidates Billy the Kid, Hiram & Dolly Roger – Dandy boyfriend of Delores Fabienne – Exotic French Queen Mr Styles – the shopkeeper Mrs Styles – the shopkeeper’s wife Jonathan – the shopkeeper’s son Rhys - Animal Control Officer