‘Why the long faces, my dear puppies? You know that’s for horses. We’re dogs and proud of it.’
‘Yes, Dad,’ said Gram rather glumly.
‘You don’t sound very proud,’ said Grayston.
‘Why should we be proud, again? Can you remind us, Dad?’ asked Grace.
‘I’m surprised you ask, my lovely Grace. We should be proud because we’re dogs,’ answered her father.
‘But all we did was get born as dogs. We had no choice in the matter and didn’t do anything special. Shouldn’t you do something to earn the pride – be good puppies or do something good?’
‘Children, we’re dogs! That’s a terrific thing to be. Isn’t it enough for you to be a dog for you to feel pride?’
‘But, Dad,’ said Graham, ‘some dogs are better than others, right?’
‘Oh yes, definitely,’ said Grayston. ‘Some dogs are much better than others.’
‘So some dogs can be bad?’ Graham continued.
‘Well, I suppose so,’ said Grayston, thinking. ‘But they’re still dogs, which is better than anything else.’
‘Why?’ asked Grace.
‘What? What do you mean “why”?’ asked Grayston, who could not believe what he was hearing.
‘Why is it better to be a bad dog than a good … cat, for instance?’
‘We’re dogs!’ cried Grayston. ‘Don’t you like being a dog?’
‘Yes,’ said Grace, ‘but why are all dogs, even naughty ones, better than other animals?’
‘Grace, my darling puppy,’ said Grayston, ‘you haven’t been the same since that rubber ball was stolen from our family. I know it was a lovely ball that sparkled in the middle when it bounced. It was a rotten cat who took your ball away. Are you feeling unwell?’
‘Dad,’ said Gram, ‘it wasn’t our ball.’
‘What do you mean? I got that ball for you to play with and you were playing with it in our garden. Of course it was our ball.’
‘No, Dad,’ said Graham. ‘It belonged to some human children. It was a special present from their parents, who had to go away for a while, and the children were playing with it to have fun and to remind them of their parents.’
‘Who’s been filling your heads with this nonsense? Was it that naughty cat who took your ball?’
‘Dad, it wasn’t actually a cat who took it. The ball was taken away by a couple of dogs. It was dogs who took it for the children,’ said Grace.
‘Yes,’ said Gram. ‘Dogs … just like us.’
‘What’s going on here? My children, you’re making me dizzy! I think I need to get a drink of water. Didn’t you like the ball I got you?’
‘Yes, Dad,’ said Grace. ‘We liked it very much, but then we learned it wasn’t ours and we felt ashamed.’
‘Ashamed!’ cried Grayston. ‘Ashamed of what?’
‘Dad, the ball didn’t belong to us. It belonged to two children called Anja and Ferdi.’
‘Well, if it belonged to Anja and Ferdi, why didn’t they come to collect it?’ said Grayston.
‘Because they were too scared,’ said Gram. ‘They were scared of the house but mostly they were scared of … you.’
Grayston’s paws became a little shaky beneath him and he collapsed to the ground. He hated to think he had caused any unhappiness to his children. Could it be true?
After a moment, he picked himself up, paw by paw, but there were still crinkly creases in his forehead fur just above his eyes.
‘Well … yes, I am a big scary dog. I thought you liked that. Aren’t I the scariest dog in all of Herring Street, maybe even in all of Amsterdam?’
‘Yes, Dad, that’s why no human children ever come to play with us,’ said Graham.
‘You want human children to come and play with you?’ asked Grayston.
‘Yes! Dad, there are puppies all over Amsterdam who have lots of human children to play with. They visit each other, they play ball, they play chasey, they bring snacks, they pat the puppies and sometimes they even cuddle the puppies.’
‘And this is what you want?’ asked Grayston.
‘Who wouldn’t want lots of human children to be your friends? Only none of them will ever come and play with us,’ said Gram.
‘No,’ said Grace, ‘they’re too scared.’
Grayston stood perfectly still for a moment, thinking about what his children were telling him.
‘Oh my goodness,’ said Grayston. ‘I’ve spent my whole life being scary. I’ve worked hard at it – not just being scary but getting the message out to everyone who passed our house. “Beware of scary dog!” Now everything seems all upside down to me.’
He turned to his children and gave them each a lick on the forehead. ‘I love my children more than I can say. I love you more than I even understand. I wake up in the morning and I just love you all up. So what am I to do? I’m an old dog and my children want me to learn some new tricks.’
Graham, Gram and Grace snuggled in close to their father and wagged their tails. They knew that he loved them but hadn’t known the love was strong enough to make him try to do at least some things differently. What a great dad! They crowded in close together and all three of them buried their snouts into the fur on his chest at the same time. Grayston felt happier now than he ever did scaring people and animals away from the house.
Now that she was fully awake, Catvinkle was nervous. So nervous, in fact, that she wouldn’t touch her salmon. She was walking from one end of her room to the other, and when she got to the end of the room she would turn back and go the other way.
‘Are you going to finish your salmon or …?’ asked Ula.
‘Or what?’ asked Catvinkle innocently.
‘Or will it be left to go to waste?’
‘I think it’s going to be left to go to waste,’ said Catvinkle.
Ula thought for a moment before speaking. ‘How do you feel about that?’
‘I’m fine with it. I’m too nervous about the National Kitten Baby-Shoe Dancing Competition to be at all hungry.’
‘Do you think I should eat it?’ asked Ula.
‘Look, you can try. Although, since I’m extremely nervous and since you love me so much, you’re probably extremely nervous too. But maybe watching you eat it will make me hungry.’
With that encouragement and having already eaten the salmon that Mr Sabatini had put in a bowl for her, Ula put her snout into Catvinkle’s food bowl and started to snack on Catvinkle’s salmon.
Catvinkle’s tail curled and uncurled, curled and uncurled, as she watched her hungry friend.
‘Ulee, you’re a genius! It’s working! Just watching you eat my salmon from my bowl is making me hungry.’
But by the time she’d finished saying this, the bowl was empty. Ula had eaten all of Catvinkle’s salmon.
A silence hung in the air. They just looked at each other for a moment. Ula tilted her head to the left and then to the right and then back to the middle again. Then Ula spoke.
‘Catvinkle, you wouldn’t have a very woolly blanket that I could wear, do you?’
‘No, why?’ asked Catvinkle.
‘I’m feeling a little sheepish,’ said Ula. ‘I’m sorry, Catvinkle, now you’re feeling hungry but all your salmon is gone.’
‘Never mind,’ said Catvinkle. ‘I probably shouldn’t eat before the baby-shoe dancing competition anyway. Besides, the hunger’s gone. I’m starting to get nervous all over again.’
‘But you’re such a good baby-shoe dancer and you’ve won the competition before. Why are you so nervous?’
‘Because I lost last year to that evil little fur ball, Twinkiepaws. I’m not sure if I told you this but I hate, hate, hate her.’
‘No, you told me that you hate her but not that you hate, hate, hate her.’
‘Well, I know you better now. There’s no point holding anything back. Do you mind if I climb atop you and sniff your musk for a while?’
‘Be my guest.’
So Catvinkle climbed on top o
f Ula and started taking deep breaths with her nose buried into Ula’s fur. Within a very short time it seemed to be doing the trick.
‘Oh, that’s good! That’s so good! Ulee, that musk is the most beautiful calming smell I’ve ever smelled. If I could feel this calm at the National Kitten Baby-Shoe Dancing Competition I know I could win.’
This gave Ula an idea. ‘Hey, Catvinkle, what if I came with you to the competition? Then just before it was your turn to dance you could take in some of my musk and feel calm enough to win.’
‘But Ulee, you can’t come. The competition is being held in Vondelpark at Kittens Anonymous. I can’t bring a dog to Kittens Anonymous.’
‘No, I suppose not.’
‘Definitely not. You know how those cats feel about dogs.’
‘Is it fear, mistrust and dislike?’ Ula asked.
‘Yes, that’s it.’
‘But you don’t think of me that way, do you, Catvinkle? And you’re a cat!’
‘Yeah, but I don’t really think of you as a dog. I think of you as my best friend, Ulee.’
‘But I’m also a dog.’
‘I know, I know. That’s why I can’t take you to the competition even though your musk would make me all calm inside.’
They both sighed.
‘Sigh,’ said Catvinkle.
‘You can say that again,’ said Ula.
‘I can,’ said Catvinkle, ‘but do you mind if I don’t? After all, you’ve already sighed once yourself.’
‘Hey, I’ve just had an idea!’ Ula said. ‘I’d better say it out loud before I lose it.’
‘Is it a good idea?’ asked Catvinkle.
‘Mmmm … Not sure.’
‘Well, say it just in case.’
‘What if I came with you to the National Kitten Baby-Shoe Dancing Competition and we told all the cats there that I was a cat?’
Catvinkle didn’t seem too excited by this idea. ‘No offence, Ulee – and you know this is coming from a place of love – but you look really quite a lot like a dog. A very pretty Dalmatian but, you know, still a dog.’
They both slumped down onto the ground in disappointment.
‘I know!’ said Ula, full of enthusiasm. ‘What if we told them I was a cat dressed as a dog in a dog disguise because I was a really, really famous cat and didn’t want any people or animals to know who I was?’
‘Do you think it would work?’
‘With every hair on my rump I’m not sure it’s a good idea, but at least it’s an idea,’ said Ula.
‘Every hair on your rump!’ said Catvinkle. ‘That’s a lot of musky-smelling hair! That’s good enough for me. Let’s give it a try!’
‘Great!’ said Ula, very pleased to have come up with an idea that might help Catvinkle.
‘Now,’ said Catvinkle, ‘we need to think of a cat who’s so famous everyone would believe that she chose to disguise herself as a dog. Who’s a famous cat around here?’
‘You’re asking the wrong animal. We dogs don’t know that much about cats, even the famous ones,’ said Ula.
‘Okay, I’ll just have to figure everything out for myself. Let me see, who’s a famous cat? Who?’
‘Are you talking to yourself?’ asked Ula.
‘Yes, sorry if I didn’t make that clear enough, Ulee. Although I can understand that you might have thought it was my tummy rumbling. I haven’t eaten anything all day.’
‘Oh, I know,’ said Ula sympathetically.
‘Yes, that’s right, you do know. Don’t keep thinking about it, Ulee. You’ll only make yourself upset.’
It was at that moment that Ula’s eye fell on a pile of newspapers that Mr Sabatini kept piled up in Catvinkle’s room before he sent them to be recycled.
‘Are there any famous kittens in the newspaper?’ Ula asked.
‘Not in the human newspapers, but maybe in the New Paw Times,’ answered Catvinkle. ‘Hey, as a matter of fact, I read an article that said Ketzington was planning a visit to Amsterdam.’
‘Who?’ asked Ula.
‘Ketzington.’
‘Who’s Ketzington?’ Ula asked again.
‘Are you serious?’ said Catvinkle in amazement. ‘You’ve never heard of Ketzington D. Kitten and the Snufflecats from New York?’
‘No, sorry, I haven’t,’ answered Ula.
‘Really? Ketzington is only the biggest singing sensation in all of Kittendom! I thought even dogs would have heard of her.’
‘Maybe my cousin, Lobbus the brave dog Lobbus, has heard of her.’
Catvinkle thought for a moment. ‘You must know some of her songs without realising that they’re hers. Do you know “Stairway to Ketzington”?’
‘No.’
‘“I’ve Got My Paw On a String”?’
‘No.’
‘“Stormy Kitten”?’
‘No.’
‘“You and the Night and the Kitten”?’
‘No.’
‘“I’ve Got You Under My Fur”? “Fascinating Kitten”? “The Lady Is a Cat”?’
‘Sorry, no,’ said Ula.
‘You’ve never heard of Ketzington? Wow! They even wrote a Broadway musical about her life.’
‘What was it called?’
‘“Ketz”.’
‘Never heard of it.’
‘She has a deli named after her on the Lower East Side – Ketz’s Deli – and they even named one of the famous East Side avenues after her. Surely you’ve heard of Ketzington Avenue?’
‘Sorry, Catvinkle. I’m a dog.’
‘I know,’ said Catvinkle, ‘but … you must know “I Only Have Paws For You”?’
‘I might know that one,’ said Ula hopefully.
Catvinkle looked at her carefully to see if she was telling the truth. ‘Do you really think you might know that one, or are you just saying that because you want it to be true?’
‘Um … Could you repeat the question?’
‘Would you like me not to?’ asked Catvinkle.
‘Well, we could let the moment pass,’ said Ula.
‘The point is, Ulee, among cats and kittens everywhere, Ketzington is a hugely famous cat. And she’s known to be touring Amsterdam this week.’
‘So I could come with you to the National Kitten Baby-Shoe Dancing Competition,’ said Ula excitedly, ‘pretending to be Ketzington disguised as a Dalmatian dog so that no one will bother her and ask her for a paw print.’
‘Yes!’ said Catvinkle, full of hope. ‘It’s such a brilliant idea I can’t believe I thought of it.’
‘Did I help?’ asked Ula.
‘I can’t believe I thought of it with some help from you,’ said Catvinkle, ‘and on an empty stomach.’
‘Then,’ said Ula, ‘if you’re feeling at all nervous before your baby-shoe dance you can just sniff my fur for musky goodness and you’ll feel happy and calm again.’
‘Yes,’ said Catvinkle. ‘And if I’m happy and calm I’ll definitely be able to beat that evil little cat, Twinkiepaws.’
‘Whom you hate, hate, hate!’
‘You have such a good memory for details,’ said Catvinkle as she tied her baby shoes around her neck.
‘I’m feeling good about this,’ Catvinkle said, prancing along the street just slightly ahead of Ula. ‘Let’s go, Ketzington!’
‘Who’s Ketzington, again?’ Ula called.
Mr Sabatini heard Ula asking this as he watched his two pets leaving the house together to go out for a walk. He heard it as just sounds, not words, but still, it made him very happy to see that they had become such good friends.
Catvinkle was now feeling quite confident about her chances of winning the National Kitten Baby-Shoe Dancing Competition. She told Ula why as they walked the streets of Amsterdam on their way to the Vondelpark.
‘First,’ she said, ‘I have you here with me for that musky smell that I’ve grown so fond of. Second, as you know, I’m really a very good baby-shoe dancer. Third, it’s my story so I have to win.’
‘What do y
ou mean?’ asked Ula, trotting alongside her.
‘Well, you know, whenever you read a book, hear a story, see a movie or watch a TV show, the person or animal whose story it is always wins any competition that they’re in. And it’s my story.’
‘What do you mean it’s your story?’ asked Ula.
‘Well, I’m in it all the time. I’m always with me. Yesterday when I woke up, I was there. This morning too. When I went to Grayston’s house to help you get the ball, well, I was there. I’m always there so it must be my story.’
‘But Catvinkle, what about me?’
‘What about you, Ulee?’
‘I’m here too. In fact, I was with you each time that you’ve just remembered.’
‘Of course you were, my dear Ulee. You’re my best friend so you have to be in my story. It’s only natural.’
‘But maybe it’s my story.’
‘Pardon me?’ said Catvinkle.
‘Maybe it’s my story and you’re in it too because you’re my best friend.’
‘Oh, I don’t think so, Ulee. Before I’d even met you, way back then, you were never in my story, but I was. I’ve been with me since I was a kitten. So you see, it has to be my story. That’s one of the reasons why I’ll win the National Kitten Baby-Shoe Dancing Competition,’ Catvinkle said happily.
Ula wished that she could be as confident as her friend Catvinkle. Although she wasn’t going to be dancing in the competition, with every step they took – and they had eight paws between them – she was getting closer to being surrounded by a whole clowder of cats who didn’t like dogs. She was going to have to pretend to be one of them by not speaking.
‘Catvinkle, how will all the cats and kittens at Kittens Anonymous know I’m Ketzington disguised as a Dalmatian dog?’
‘I’ll tell them, Ulee.’
‘Hmmm … I wish I’d checked our plan with my cousin, Lobbus the brave dog Lobbus. Lobbus would know if it’s a good plan.’
Not too far away, Lobbus was about to leave home to meet an old friend – a llama named Roy – for a game of backgammon. Suddenly, at the end of his street he saw a big scary grey dog running as fast as it could straight for him. He realised it was Grayston running towards him as fast as Grayston could run – which was very fast indeed.
The Adventures of Catvinkle Page 7
