A Friend Called Alfie

by Rachel Wells

  ‘Are you my new friends?’ Pickles asked.

  ‘Yes, I suppose we are your new friends,’ I replied. He sounded young, and if I was honest, when he looked at me with his big eyes, he was quite adorable. But George was still sulking, I’m not sure he agreed.

  ‘I’m happy to meet you both,’ Pickles said. ‘It’s scary living with a new family, but everyone seems so nice,’ he mouthed, as he ran around in a circle. Why can’t puppies stay still?

  ‘What are you doing?’ George asked, scowling in Pickles’ direction.

  ‘I’m trying to catch my tail,’ Pickles replied.

  He might get smarter as he got older, I thought, and tried to convey this to George through my glare.

  ‘So are you settling in well?’ I asked. It still felt a bit awkward, although it was easier to talk to him now he was no longer running in circles.

  ‘Yes, I cried a bit last night because I felt lonely. Henry convinced Polly that I could sleep on his bed, so I snuggled up to him, and that wasn’t quite so bad.’

  ‘You like to talk,’ George pointed out.

  ‘Be nice,’ I whispered to George.

  ‘Welcome to Edgar Road,’ George said, not exactly sounding welcoming.

  ‘And we both arrived here on our own at different points. So you know, if you feel a bit down, you can talk to us,’ I said, more kindly.

  ‘Thank you, I think I’m going to like it here,’ Pickles said. Then he sat down and smiled at us with his wrinkly face.

  ‘Dad, can I go out?’ George asked.

  ‘We’re supposed to be looking after Pickles,’ I pointed out.

  ‘But I told Hana I’d go and see her this morning.’ Although Hana didn’t go out much, she had a cat flap, so George visited her regularly, as did I sometimes. I didn’t want to force him to stay and help me with Pickles as he’d probably end up resenting me for it, so I thought I’d be best off letting him go. Although, I would have liked to go out …

  ‘OK, I can take care of Pickles, but you need to get used to him because he’s going to be here a lot,’ I whispered to George, as we moved towards the back door.

  ‘Fine, and I will be nice, but now I would rather be with my actual friend.’ George sounded a bit surly; he was still a little put out at how the children ignored him as soon as Pickles arrived on the scene. It was jealousy, something that siblings often suffered from. Goodness, get me I was already thinking of him as if he was part of the family, which was very magnanimous of me if I did say so myself.

  ‘But give Pickles a chance, George, after all he might be a bit like a brother to you now.’

  ‘Well perhaps, seeing as you are so keen to adopt the puppy, you might tell him not to eat your food,’ George snapped before he disappeared out of the cat flap. I turned to see Pickles, nose deep in my breakfast.

  ‘Pickles, that food is not for you, it’s for cats,’ I said, trying not to sound angry. I had been saving that, though, so now I’d be hungry later.

  ‘I thought it tasted a bit funny. Never mind, can we go and play now?’

  Oh goodness, I thought, here I was yet again in the role of reluctant parent. Why did this keep happening to me?

  I was so pleased to see Claire when she came home that I ran straight into her legs and gave them a welcoming rub. I was also happy to see that she had Sylvie with her.

  Pickles had been very busy, exploring the house; he had tried to get into every cupboard, thankfully he didn’t succeed. Finally he found some food that the kids had dropped under the kitchen table, which he ate despite me telling him not to before he ran into a door. He was clearly in the learning stage of life, and only at the very beginning. After he’d eaten, he then ran up and down the kitchen for no apparent reason before jumping into the dog bed that Claire had put in the corner for him.

  ‘Are you alright?’ I had asked. He was breathing quite heavily and making a snorting, or snuffling noise.

  ‘I have had so much fun with you this morning, Alfie, but I’m tired now so I might just close my eyes.’ As he had drifted off to sleep, I thought about joining him, I was so exhausted.

  ‘Oh my goodness he’s so cute,’ Sylvie said, picking him out of his bed and giving him a cuddle. I kind of understood how George felt, as I became invisible.

  ‘Isn’t he? The kids love him, and Polly is besotted. I think she wanted a third child, but Matt put his foot down, so Pickles has taken that place.’

  ‘Makes sense. I’ve always been more of a cat person myself, but he is adorable. Look at that little face.’ As Pickles wiggled into Sylvie’s arms, Claire gave me a head scratch.

  ‘Where’s George?’ she asked me.

  ‘Meow,’ I replied.

  ‘He’s at ours,’ Sylvie replied, ‘he came in just before I bumped into you.’

  ‘Right, shall I put the kettle on?’ Claire said.

  ‘Please, I’d love a coffee, but then I’m not sure I can bear to pull myself away from Pickles to drink it.’

  ‘Honestly, everyone adores him. But then we have to make sure Alfie and George don’t feel left out,’ Claire said. Ah, so someone had noticed us after all. I purred with pleasure.

  ‘Claire, you treat those cats as if they’re your children sometimes.’

  ‘They are.’ Claire shrugged and I purred in agreement.

  ‘So how are things with Marcus?’ Claire asked, and I settled down to listen to the latest news.

  ‘Good, we’re taking it slowly, what with all we’ve both been through, but it’s nice having him live so near, and he’s such a good man. Also, he grounds me, stops me from my you know, my darker thoughts, I guess.’

  ‘I heard a whisper that Harold thinks you are wonderful,’ Claire said with a laugh.

  ‘From Harold, that is a huge compliment,’ Sylvie laughed. Harold could be very grumpy but a bit like a chocolate, despite the hard exterior he had a soft centre.

  ‘And speaking of Harold, I have to go and see him in a bit, shall I take you, Pickles?’ Claire asked.

  ‘Woof,’ Pickles replied, and I knew that although he had no idea who Harold was, he very much wanted to go and I would be able to have a luxurious rest on my own.

  Chapter Five

  After a frankly exhausting time with Pickles the pug, I went out to see if any of my friends were about. I hoped to bump into George who seemed to be giving the house a wide berth. I needed to talk to him because Pickles needed us, both of us, and I needed George to see that. I also could have used the help, having been run ragged by the puppy. And it was only day one.

  I understood George had mixed feelings. Not only had I always told him to avoid dogs, but he was now supposed to accept someone into his life, his family, that he was unsure of.

  I padded over to the area where we cats often hang out, sort of our recreation ground on Edgar Road. Nellie was there, lying near a bush, and Elvis was nearby playing with some leaves. I joined them.

  ‘Hey, Alfie,’ they both greeted me.

  ‘Have you seen George?’ I asked.

  ‘He came by earlier and said that he was going to see Harold.’

  ‘Right, and did he tell you about the puppy?’ I asked.

  ‘Yes, and I got the impression he’s not too impressed,’ Nellie said. ‘He said that dogs are dumb and he shouldn’t have to be nice to it.’

  ‘Pickles, not it,’ I said. ‘Goodness, this might be worse than I thought. I was afraid that this might happen, but Pickles is just a baby, and it looks like he’s a full member of the family now. They’re not going to give him back after all. And I wouldn’t want that to happen to any pet.’

  ‘A dog, in a cat’s world,’ Elvis mused.

  ‘What am I going to do? I’ve always been against dogs, but now I am babysitting one! Anyway, I like him, and I need to find a way to get George to do the same.’

  ‘Your life is always getting complicated, isn’t it?’ Nellie pointed out. She was right, it was. And now there was Pickles.

  ‘The lad is still hurting about Tige
r, and now there’s yet another change in his life.’ Elvis could be a very wise cat when the mood took him.

  ‘I know, so I can’t be too demanding, but I think I need to get him to at least tolerate Pickles sooner rather than later. He’s going to be at our house a lot, and I don’t want George to go out every time he comes.’ I felt a shudder run through my fur at the thought of me having to babysit the dog alone. I didn’t want Pickles to come between us. ‘And when he’s a bit older we can probably go out and leave him. Or maybe Claire will take him with her more, dogs tend to go out with humans a lot, so it’s just in the short term. Hopefully.’ The idea that I could sell this to George cheered me.

  ‘Exactly, Alfie, this dog is now part of the family, so maybe you should just get George to think of him as his little brother and teach him what he knows,’ Nellie said.

  ‘What?’ I was confused.

  ‘Well, if they brought another kitten in he might be a bit jealous at first, but then you’d say he was a big brother and he had to teach the kitten to cat, so why don’t you give him that role with Pickles?’

  ‘You know, Nellie, you might have something there. I’ll tell him he’s a big brother now with responsibility, and if he teaches Pickles all he knows—’ I paused and tried not to think of all the scrapes George got himself in ‘—then he might accept him more readily. You guys are amazing, thank you. And where’s Rocky?’

  ‘Oh he was tired, so he went off for a nap. That cat likes its sleep.’

  ‘What cat doesn’t?’ I replied.

  George appeared shortly afterwards, saving me from having to go and find him.

  ‘How was Harold?’ I asked. Harold and George shared a love of digestive biscuits, among other things. Harold dunked them in strong tea, until they were soggy and then fed them to George.

  ‘He was fine, good actually. It’s nice and quiet at his house. Not like ours,’ George replied in that stroppy way of his when he was sulking. ‘Although Claire took Pickles to see him earlier and even he said the dog was sweet.’ He stomped his paw.

  ‘George, I know you’re not happy about Pickles, but I need you to help me,’ I started, carefully.

  ‘Help you do what?’ George asked, sounding surly.

  ‘George, when you came to live with me, I was your dad straight away, and you were so tiny, there was so much for me to teach you.’

  ‘So?’ Gosh this boy could act like a teenager at times.

  ‘Well, you had me, and our cat friends, and Tiger mum to help you learn as you grew, so that made you very lucky.’

  ‘S’pose.’

  ‘Right, but Pickles, well he doesn’t have anyone to guide him, apart from us. And I know it’s different because he’s a dog but he doesn’t have any other dog friends. He probably misses his mum very much, he’s just a baby.’

  ‘I guess so. But what can I do about it?’

  ‘You can be a big brother to him, like Aleksy, Henry and Toby all are. It’s a very important, responsible role.’

  ‘It is?’

  ‘Of course, you’ve seen how much our human big brothers take care of the little ones, and it’s a role that I think you are ready for.’

  I noticed that Elvis and Nellie were listening and trying not to grin. We all knew the way to get George to agree to anything was flattery.

  ‘In fact,’ I continued, ‘you would probably make the best big brother ever.’

  No,’ George said. Which surprised me.

  ‘Why not?’ I asked.

  ‘He doesn’t live with me so he can’t be my brother.’ He wouldn’t meet my eyes.

  ‘What about a cousin then?’ Nellie suggested. ‘I’m like an aunt to you, George, so how about you be a big cousin to Pickles.’

  ‘That’s a great idea, Nellie.’ I nuzzled her in gratitude.

  ‘But what do I have to do as a big cousin?’ George asked.

  ‘You can teach him things,’ Elvis said.

  ‘Yes,’ Nellie added. ‘You are a cat, and he’s a dog, but there’s still plenty you can show him.’

  ‘You mean that I can teach him things that I can do?’ George at least sounded interested now.

  ‘That’s right, George. You can also show him how to be kind, how to be caring, all the important lessons that we taught you,’ I added.

  ‘And what about you? You can’t be his dad because you’re my dad,’ he said, and I heard jealousy rearing up in his voice.

  ‘If you’re like a cousin to him then maybe I can be a bit like an uncle to him. Does that sound OK with you? Because you are my son, my number one and you always will be, understood?’

  ‘Yes, you’re right, we need to be nice to Pickles. He can be my friend, after all.’ George hopped around, and even I was surprised by the sudden change in attitude.

  ‘Oh George, that’s so great, and you’ll grow to love him, I’m sure you will.’ I crossed my paws he would anyway.

  ‘After all, I have a very big heart,’ George said.

  ‘You do,’ Nellie agreed, in the motherly way of hers.

  ‘The biggest,’ Elvis added, he was a wise cat, when he felt like it, as he licked his paw.

  ‘And I am proud of you every single day,’ I added, as emotion overwhelmed me.

  ‘A bit like how I was friends with Hana when she moved from Japan and was lonely, I can try to be the same with Pickles. But Hana’s my best friend, so I won’t like Pickles as much as I like her.’

  ‘That’s OK.’ I sensed the need for baby steps.

  ‘You’re right, Dad. Pickles is a silly puppy, who doesn’t know anything, right?’

  ‘I’m not sure about the silly part but yes,’ I agreed. Actually, he was silly, but I was trying to get George to bond with him, not tease him.

  ‘So, I need to teach him everything I know,’ George added.

  ‘Exactly,’ I agreed.

  ‘I will do what you asked, and I will start tomorrow morning. I’m going to teach Pickles catting.’

  ‘Eh?’ Nellie said.

  ‘It makes sense. Pickles is a dog, and everyone knows they’re not as good as cats, so I will increase his chances by teaching him to be like me.’

  Nellie, Elvis and I blinked at each other. It wasn’t quite what I had in mind, but seeing as I had somehow led him to this place I couldn’t argue. I didn’t have a paw to stand on after all.

  ‘It’s more about teaching him things you know,’ I reiterated.

  ‘And I know how to be a cat. So that is what I will teach him. I’m going to teach Pickles how to be a cat, and I just can’t wait to get started.’

  Chapter Six

  The education of Pickles would have to wait because we had headed next door to Sylvie’s for a Japanese night. The night started out badly when Jonathan was late, because of his new job, which led to an angry hushed exchange at our house between him and Claire. I knew it was because he wanted to change out of his suit, but Claire said he didn’t have time, and that he should have left work earlier. I could see both points, Jonathan was working hard, which he had warned us he would have to, but the reality wasn’t as easy as the theory, it seemed.

  Sylvie served up some wonderful Japanese food, including raw fish – sashimi – for me, Hana and George before the humans were seated. It was delicious. When Sylvie hosted Japanese night, as many of our families who could make it usually attended. Tonight Polly and Matt couldn’t be there, and Tomasz was working, so it was just Claire and Jonathan, Franceska, her children, Aleksy and Tommy, along with Harold, Sylvie, Marcus and Connie. And us cats of course. Our children were being looked after by our babysitter, Rosie, who lived on our street and helped out for us all from time to time.

  ‘Who’s hungry?’ Sylvie asked, ushering everyone to sit around their large dining table where the colourful food was laid out waiting for the humans. I wanted to bound over and get stuck in, but I had to show Hana and George manners, so I held back, although my mouth was literally watering from the taster I’d enjoyed beforehand. Harold made a huge fuss of Georg
e as usual as he slowly made his way over to the feast.

  ‘Have you got any bread? Any English food?’ Harold asked, once seated. He insisted on coming to Japanese night, but he refused to eat the food. Perhaps there was some hope of an extra portion?

  ‘I’ll get you some, Harold,’ Connie offered. ‘Would you like a sandwich?’ she asked, sweetly.

  ‘If you insist and a nice bit of ham wouldn’t go amiss,’ he mumbled.

  ‘Anything for you, Harold,’ Sylvie said. She was so calm and patient these days, which with Harold you had to be.

  ‘Wine?’ Marcus asked, filling up glasses with a warm smile.

  ‘Yes please,’ Tommy asked, and giggled. Out of the two boys he was the most likely to get into trouble.

  ‘Tommy, you are far too young,’ Franceska chastised, ruffling his hair in her maternal fashion.

  ‘As are you, Connie, before you get any ideas,’ Sylvie added but it was all in good humour. Tommy was nearly thirteen, and Connie and Aleksy almost fifteen, growing up so fast. When I first met Tommy, he was still in a pushchair. Goodness, that made me feel old.

  ‘So how’s the puppy settling in?’ Marcus asked.

  ‘Ah, he’s gorgeous,’ Claire said. ‘So sweet and so much fun.’

  ‘But not as gorgeous as our George,’ Harold said, and I purred in agreement.

  ‘I can’t wait to meet him,’ Connie added. Claire had organised a sort of ‘welcome to the family’ party for him at the weekend, which of course annoyed George. His whiskers had definitely been put out of joint.

  ‘I know, I haven’t even seen him yet,’ Jonathan added. ‘Working long hours means I barely see my own family let alone the new puppy.’ He sounded sad, and I did worry about him. He and Claire said it would only be like this while he settled into his new job, and I just hoped it wouldn’t take too long for things to change.

  ‘But the weekend will be lovely, having us all together,’ Claire reiterated. ‘Harold, you’re definitely coming, aren’t you?’

  ‘As long as we get some normal food,’ he blustered.

  ‘Luckily we don’t get easily offended,’ Marcus laughed. But we were all used to Harold’s ways, and we loved him for it.