The Cats of Butterwick Sands Page 4

  “Come back! Come back,” crowed the rooster Caesar, “come back it’s not safe! I command you!”

  The hens ignored him as usual; chickens tend to have a short attention span so they soon went off clucking.

  “Lot of fuss really,” said Lucy, “we chickens can have chicks and lay eggs.”

  “Yes but we don’t like humans taking our eggs!” squawked Mabel. A heated argument then followed ending in feathers flying and Caesar ending up on his back claws in the air.

  Milo couldn’t understand why everyone didn’t just adore his lady love and children like he did. Bowler of course had to be locked in the caravan again, but he kept jumping up and down on one of the bunk beds trying to get a view and frantically barking. “Funny Bowler,” giggled Mariella as Bowler’s head kept appearing and disappearing at the caravan window and everyone was laughing and in good spirits. Ben, Sonia and old Mags put out a big bowl of leftovers for the little family and they all tucked in and when they had finished, Milo miawoed a cat thank you and they headed back to the fairground. From that day on extra food was always put down by the humans at the front of the caravans, but of course Milo had to be quick and try and be the first cat there to get the best pickings as all the cats around had to eat as well. He knew he would have to teach his kittens how to forage too to survive and to look after poor Lala if anything should ever befall him, after all, she was a princess!

  So it was on the fateful day that Milo set off as usual, first kissing Lala and then licking the kittens who were all sleeping except for Woody who was, as usual, thinking about what mischief he could get up to today. Lala and his brothers and sisters were all asleep. He jumped out of the car and spent some time jumping on a big plastic spider, holding it between his paws and kicking his little legs, then jumping on it over and over again, he would then lie flat on the floor as Milo had taught him, wriggling his bottom in ‘stalking’ pose then he would leap out, but why didn’t the spider run away? He soon got tired of that game and then frightened himself when he saw his reflection in an old mirror… who was that cat? How dare he come into his patch! Woody started ‘growling’ and making himself look bigger by puffing up his fur but the cat was still there! Oh dear, well he would deal with him later, he had too much to do today.

  He bounded over the little train carriages and out into the sunshine. Mama always told him, “Don’t go too far, darling, Daddy has to teach you about the big wide world.” But Woody thought he was a big cat already and he had no fear! He started running around, enjoying the sights and smells that greeted him, everything excited him, what was this? What was that? He ran all around the fairground, jumping over the old rides, running under the burger van and jumping over the old candy floss cart. Suddenly, he came to an abrupt halt as in front of him stood a big, huge, bird; Woody knew it was a bird, as Daddy had brought one he had caught to show them. But this bird was now fixing him with a very beady eye.

  “Who are you, kitty cat?” it squawked.

  Woody suddenly felt very frightened, “Um, my name is Woody… sir, I live in the g-gho-st train and…”

  “SILENCE!” Shouted the bird, “My name is Gunther, I am a seagull and I own this fairground and… I like to eat KITTEN SNACKS!”

  Woody started trembling and then turned on his paws and ran as fast as his little legs could carry him, behind him he could hear the seagull screeching with laughter. Then he saw him swoop into the sky circling and then swooping down over Woody’s head. Woody kept running, past the caravan park where Reggie and Jonty were sniffing at a fried chicken box.

  “Hey! Youngster, where are you off too!”

  But Woody kept running; he ran past the caravans, past old Malachi the horse and down the cliff path towards the village. He ran onto the beach and finally stopped, panting for breath. What was this strange soft stuff under his feet…? And then he saw the water, the big water with the big waves coming in and crashing onto the shore. He got frightened all over again, and ran frantically along the seashore. He came to a car parked on the beach and behind it he recognised the house on wheels that humans lived in. In front of the car on two folding chairs sat an elderly man and an elderly lady they were both rather rotund with shiny red faces but they looked really friendly. They are Bill and Mildred Trotter taking the sea air on Butterwick sands.

  Every March they would travel from ‘up north’ for a week in Butterwick and stay in their caravan. “Best buy we have ever made,” Bill would say, “we take the caravan and we go wherever we want, anywhere in the world!” But they just liked to keep coming back to Butterwick every year. “Best place in the world, no need to go anywhere else,” they said. They were now well known around Butterwick and to them it felt like a second home. The locals said, “There all right them Trotters, good sorts.” Mr and Mrs Trotter were now eating ham sandwiches and Woody suddenly realised that he was really hungry; Mama had saved a nice fishcake for their breakfast and Woody was now wishing he was back in the nice safe ghost train with his brothers and sisters. Woody sidled up to Mildred and gave a small mewl. Mildred looked down and said in astonishment, “Why look at that, Bill, a little kitten! Oh isn’t it sweet, are you hungry, you poor thing?” She picked Woody up and stroked him. “Well look, Bill, he is half almost Persian and half tortoiseshell, how unusual,” and started feeding him her ham sandwich, which Woody gobbled up as he loved the bread and butter but especially the ham!

  “He must be lost or a stray, oh Bill, I would love to keep him,” said Mildred.

  Mr Trotter knew that she missed their old cat Betsy who had died last year. “Yes dear but first we do need to check that he doesn’t belong to anyone.”

  “Oh yes,” she replied, “maybe we should ask the neighbours, do go and ask, Bill.”

  “I think I will go and ask at the seafront houses first,” said Bill and with that he heaved his hefty frame out of the deckchair. He was wearing baggy orange shorts, sandals and a white vest that did not quite cover his belly. It was not quite summer weather yet but Bill loved lapping up the sun, no matter what month it was; anytime of the year. “Won’t be long, dear,” and he set off toward the houses.

  At that moment a large black and white dog with shaggy fur trotted past, he is called Bilko and he belongs to Ivor and Ella who own the pub and hotel at the other end of the village called The Old Sea Dog. It used to be called The Golden Eagle and it was very run down before Ivor and Ella took over, but they renovated it and now it was bright and airy and popular with locals and visitors alike. It was now the centre of village life. Bilko was a very friendly, soppy dog who was loved by everyone in Butterwick. As Bilko trotted past he saw Mildred with a small bundle on her lap – why, it looked like a little kitten! Mildred called out to him, “Hello Bilko,” and gave him a little wave. Normally, Bilko would have stopped at the Trotters, as Mildred would often have a ‘treat’ but today was a good day for sniffing and smelling and chasing things! Still he did wonder if Mildred had got a new kitten. She’d be better off with a puppy, he thought. As with most dogs he had learnt to tolerate cats, he even lived with one called Percy. Percy is a Bengal tabby, a most inscrutable animal and Bilko never ever knew what Percy was thinking and that was how Percy liked it!

  Mildred meanwhile was fussing and cooing over Woody. “There, there little fuzzy wuzzy baby pussy cat,” she cooed, as she tickled him under his chin and Woody was starting to feel sleepy; after all it had been a very exciting morning! For a brief moment he thought about his mama and that he really should go home, but it was so nice being tickled under the chin and fussed over just like darling mama did. Yes, he thought, he would stay just a little bit longer… Mildred looked down and saw Woody was fast asleep. She was also a very large lady and was wearing a voluminous floral red dress and a little straw boater, which was really much too small for her head; it had long pink ribbons at the back. Very gently she eased herself off the chair and took Woody into the caravan. Inside it was a like a pink marshma
llow as there was lots and lots of pink! There was a settee and two comfy chairs with lots of pink satin scatter cushions on them. There was an enormous TV in the corner, a pink carpet, and all in all very pink indeed. Every available space was filled with china cats, dogs, frogs, every animal you could think of and in the middle of the little dining table, was a white china bowl with shiny china fruit in it. Mildred loved shiny china and collected as many china ornaments as she could. Everything in the caravan gleamed and shone and Mildred was very proud of her mobile home. The Trotter’s home ‘up north’, looked exactly the same as the inside of their caravan. Through the caravan was a small kitchenette and in the back, a bedroom and shower room and toilet. The bedroom also had pink curtains and a shiny satin pink bedspread with more pink scatter cushion and on the bed, sat a black and white cuddly stuffed cat with a pink bow round its neck, which Bill had bought her after Betsy died. “There, there, little one,” she said to Woody, and gently placed him on the bed. All the windows were closed except for the one in the shower room which was only open a little bit so the kitten could not get out. Mildred was feeling so excited about the prospect of having a pet again and wished she had kept Betsy’s bowls and cat basket. Never mind she could buy them again in the village.

  She went and filled a small bowl with some milk and left it in the corner of the bedroom on some newspaper. She knew that Bill would insist that they made sure that the kitten did not belong to anyone as he was very fair but Mildred so hoped that Bill’s enquiries would prove unsuccessful! She picked up her pink straw shopping basket and slowly let herself out of the caravan, locking the door behind her and sat down outside waiting for Bill to return.

  Back at the fairground, Lala and the other kittens had just woken up. Lala counted her kittens and licked them as she always did; the kittens were stirring and looked up at Lala with sleepy eyes one… two… three… where was that Woody? Really he is so naughty, she thought, she was always telling him not to stray too far, he was probably playing somewhere. Lala licked her kittens and told them, “Wait here, darlings, I am just going to find your brother and then we will have breakfast.” She had saved a lovely big fishcake from last night’s supper for them, which Milo had brought from the chip shop. The other kittens were used to their brother always getting into trouble.

  “Oh dear I hope he’s alright,” said little Lilibet and then promptly burst into tears.

  Clarence, who as the eldest felt that he should be having the adventures not woody said, “Oh he’s just messing about being silly as usual now we are having to starve and wait for our breakfast, it’s not fair!”

  “Don’t be silly,” mewled Martha, “you had a big supper last night, you greedy thing! Poor Woody, he could be lost! Mama will be back soon and give us breakfast.” Clarence knew that Woody would be OK and he went into the corner of the train car and sulked.

  Dear Milo, thought Lala as she jumped town from the train car, he really was such a good husband and daddy and never mind that he was not a pedigree, Lala was happy and didn’t miss her old life at all now. She had found her calling and just loved being a mother, she was even thinking about having more kittens! But now she must find her second born. “Woody, Woody,” she called, “come and have your breakfast.” Where was the naughty boy? She knew that Milo would not be back until that big clock down in the village chimed, which Milo said was ‘lunchtime’ for the humans. “Woody, come to Mama.” Lala ran and looked all around the ghost train, up and down the cars calling Woody’s name and she was now starting to feel panicked. “Where is he?” she fretted.

  She ran outside into the spring air and saw Jonty chatting with Finlay and Tina; they were surprised to see Lala outside, as she never came out very often. Lala ran up to them and said breathlessly, “Have you seen Woody? I can’t find him!”

  Jonty saw how panicked she looked and said, “Don’t worry, Lala, I’m sure he’s around here somewhere. I saw him about an hour ago and he was running that way,” pointing with his paw. “Don’t worry, I will go and fetch Sergeant Reggie straight away.” And with that he ran off to find him. Finlay, who was Milo’s best friend, also ran off, calling Woody’s name.

  “Running!” said Lala. “Oh dear where on earth was he going, oh my! Oh dear! My baby! Help me, oh dear! Oh help! What shall I do! Oh my!” All the other stray cats on the site were now stopping their grooming, eating, and sleeping to watch poor LaLa running round and round and crying. Some of them got up and joined in the search for Woody.

  Tina couldn’t bear to see Lala so upset as she was a kind little cat and she also loved the kittens, she nuzzled up to Lala, purring to reassure her, “Don’t worry, Lala, Sergeant Reggie will know what to do!” The other kittens will be wondering where you are so let’s go to them and wait there, he will be alright, that Woody is a tough little kitten!” Lala sniffed, her bushy tail hung low and her fur was standing on end, but she went along with Tina, crying all the way back to the ghost train, “Oh dear! Oh my!”

  Jonty ran as fast as he could as he knew where Reggie would be at this time of day; in the old clubhouse with Horatio, the old fisherman’s cat from the harbour. After doing ‘his rounds,’ Reggie and old Horatio would sit and put the world to rights often sharing some of the catnip plant that grew around the clubhouse. Horatio was an old white cat with a black patch over his eye. He was of Irish decent, like his human Isaac, who was the only fisherman still left in Butterwick. Reggie liked Horatio as he was one of the few cats apart from Jonty who thought he did a good job as officer of the law. In reality, Horatio was almost deaf so he would nod his head up and down to whatever Reggie said. “He’s such an intelligent animal that Horatio,” Reggie would say to Jonty. In return for listening to Reggie and his tales of his heroic deeds for the cats of Butterwick, Reggie would always bring a meaty tit-bit for Horatio as naturally his diet was just fish, cooked in lots of different tasty ways by his human Isaac, but just fish nevertheless.

  7

  The Lost Kitten

  Reggie and Horatio were sitting on the old pinball machine discussing how some naughty children from Fairmile had come onto the park and thrown stones at the cats. Reggie had tried to spit at them saying, “I am the officer of the law,” but they had just carried on laughing and throwing stones. “I need another plan, what do you think?” he asked Horatio, who replied by nodding his head up and down, just as Jonty came running in like the wind.

  “Reggie! Reggie! We need your help, Woody’s gone missing!”

  “Woody?” said Reggie, “But we saw him this morning!”

  “Yes, but he hasn’t come back; Lala is in a terrible state.”

  Now whilst Lala and Reggie did not get on, as he thought she was a silly creature, Reggie nevertheless did have a soft spot for the kittens and especially little Woody, who reminded him of himself as a young kitten, many cat years ago. Old Horatio also knew the kittens too, as all the cats all knew of each other. “Can I help?” he miawoed.

  “Yes,” replied Reggie purposefully, “give a good look around this end of the park.” Horatio nodded, but he had heard this, as Reggie was now shouting out orders at the top of his voice. “Come on, we need every spare cat around,” and as quick as a flash, the three cats were up, with Horatio going off in the direction of the old swimming pool. “Jonty, you come with me, let’s go to the caravans.”

  As they were running Gunther the seagull saw them and started circling, “What’s up, kitty cats, lost something?” he squawked.

  “Go away, you troublemakers!” Reggie shouted, and Gunther started laughing, circling and swooping and soon, other seagulls joined in. The cats just ignored them and sped towards the caravans, miaowing Woody’s name and just then, as they raced towards the vans, they saw Milo coming up on the track from the village. He had some food in his mouth and was going toward the fairground.

  “Milo, Milo, stop!” cried Jonty.

  Milo stopped in his tracks. What on earth is g
oing on, he thought. When Reggie and Jonty told him about Woody, he was distraught. “My poor Lala; I must go to her.”

  “No,” said Reggie, “Tina is with her and we need you to help us search.”

  “No, of course, you’re right Reggie, anything you say, that boy of mine causing all this trouble wherever has he gone?”

  The three cats ran over to the caravans and there was Bowler, but before he could start yapping Milo asked frantically, “Have you seen a kitten?”

  “No I haven’t,” said Bowler, “and I wouldn’t tell you if I had! So there!”

  “Stupid dog,” hissed Reggie.

  Caeser the rooster and his chickens were scratching and pecking at some fresh greens that old mags often put down for them. “Have any of you seen a kitten go past?”

  “No, old chap,” said Caeser, “You need to keep more control of your young ones you know, no respect these days.”

  “Oh shut up!” said a very concerned Hilary a rather pretty brown pullet, all the other hens also started squawking and shaking their heads.

  Fergus, however, sitting on the step as usual, said, “Yes I saw him, he went down the hill towards the village about an hour ago. Let me come and look with you.” He jumped off the step to join them.

  “Thank you, Fergus,” said Milo.

  Malachi the horse, who was chewing grass by old Mags’ caravan, looked up and said, “Hurrumph, lost kittens, whatever next. In my day, youngsters did as they were told. Not enough discipline that’s what it is!” and he whisked his tail and walked off.

  Kiya who was in the watering can again, looked up and said, “I suppose I should help really, but I can’t be bothered. He will turn up.” Fergus hissed at Kiya in disgust but she just ignored him. The cats ran down the hill, past the seafront houses, calling out Woody’s name as they went. Reggie sent Jonty into the village to check the shops and the pub and Milo was dispatched to the church and school. Fergus went to look in the harbour and amusement arcade, with Finlay looking down the pier. Reggie went along the seafront asking all the cats he saw if they had seen Woody and so it was that lots and lots of cats joined in the search. Cats of every shape, size and colour, even Hamish left his pickle jars and joined in. News of the search had even reached Ernie in Barrow on Sea via the seagulls and even Fairmile. The visitors and locals out that day saw the sight of many, many cats running all over the village. The locals did not bat an eyelid as they were used to the Butterwick cats grouping together doing strange things, but the visitors and holiday makers were very bemused. “What are they all doing?” they asked. Little children squealed with delight, and the dogs, well they didn’t like it one bit!