Leanne Davidson
Illustrated by Rae Dale
LJD Books
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced by any process without the written permission of the publisher. The moral rights of the author have been asserted.
Published by LJD Books 2016
PO Box 918 Warragul Victoria 3820
http://www.quizzicalbook.com/index.html
Edited, designed and produced by Nan McNab
Distributed by Dennis Jones & Associates,
Unit 1/10 Melrich Road Bayswater Victoria 3153 Australia
[email protected] Australia
National Library of Australia Cataloguing-in-Publication entry
Creator: Davidson, Leanne, 1964- author.
Title: Alby and the cat / Leanne Davidson ; Rae Dale,
illustrator ; Nan McNab, editor.
Edition: 2nd edition.
ISBN: 9780980724165 (eBook)
Target Audience: For primary school age.
Subjects: Cats--Juvenile fiction.
Dogs--Juvenile fiction.
Other Creators/Contributors:
Dale, Rae, illustrator.
McNab, Nan, editor.
Dewey Number: A823.4
Chapter 1 Number 26 Popple Court
Chapter 2 A new home
Chapter 3 The morning walk
Chapter 4 Too close for comfort
Chapter 5 Flat cat?
Chapter 6 Good riddance to bad rubbish
Chapter 7 Keeping up appearances
The fat fluffy cat sat perched on the wall in front of Number 26 Popple Court. It watched and waited, swishing its tail back and forth as it whiled away the time.
The cat lived right next door at Number 28, but there was nothing doing there. His human was over at Number 26, as were the humans from Numbers 19, 21 and 22.
In fact, the whole top of Popple Court was filled with cars, all their occupants visiting Number 26.
Another car pulled up and two more humans got out. Females. A big one and a smaller one. They were abuzz with excitement.
‘I wonder if it’s here yet?’ said the big one.
‘I can’t wait to see what it looks like!’ said the smaller one.
To see what what looks like? thought the cat, who was now most unhappy that he was stuck on a wall outside Number 26, when quite clearly all the action was happening inside.
The humans rushed past without so much as a glance in the cat’s direction. Typical, thought the cat. Not that he expected anything more – they were humans, after all. Still, some sort of acknowledgement would have been nice.
‘Oh, isn’t he just gorgeous.’
‘Isn’t he the most handsome thing you’ve ever seen.’
But no. Just ignore the cat.
He was constantly being shooed away, or having things tossed at him, even when he wasn’t doing anything wrong.
Hey, don’t worry about me, I’m just the cat.
The cat didn’t have much time for humans, except for his own human of course. She fed him and cuddled him and talked to him like he was the most important creature on Earth. Most of the others talked to him, or about him, as if he was an alien on the wrong planet.
The cat was curious now.
What was all the interest in Number 26? Who was coming? What was coming? It must be very important to be causing so much interest. He had never seen anything like it before in Popple Court.
Surely it would arrive soon, and then the cat could see for himself what all the fuss was about. Soon he was bored and numb from sitting on the cold brick wall for so long. He couldn’t feel the fur on his bottom anymore and had to look to make sure it was still there.
Whoever or whatever he was waiting for still hadn’t arrived and the cat was beginning to wonder if it ever would.
Perhaps all the humans were at Number 26 for the thing his human called a ‘party’ or for that other thing she called ‘bingo’.
One thing was for sure – all this waiting around was tiresome. He was fed up with swishing his tail and had started swatting insects with his paws, but now even that failed to amuse him. He thought about wandering back over to Number 28 for a bit of a catnap on the front porch.
He had almost talked himself into it when he heard the sound of another car approaching. Then a shiny blue monstrosity pulled into the driveway of Number 26, and the cat trembled with excitement. Finally they were here. ‘It’ was here.
The car slowed for a moment, and the cat waited patiently for the humans to get out. He was going to be the first to see it, whatever it was. Phooey to all the humans who were inside Number 26, waiting for the big arrival. The cat was going to have the last laugh after all.
But the humans didn’t get out. They just waited for the big metal rolling door thingy to open, then they drove in. And no sooner were they in, than the door closed behind them again. Just like that.
The cat was mortified.
He couldn’t believe it. All that waiting on the cold brick wall for nothing. Not one little peek at the very special and important thing that all the humans had come to see. It was now inside Number 26, where he should be.
Aha! thought the cat. That’s it!
Why hadn’t he thought of it sooner? The cat was very pleased with himself.
He leaped off the wall with graceful ease and raced across the front yard of Number 26, heading towards the kitchen.
The kitchen window was perfect. The cat had a great view, but if anyone saw him, he’d be tossed out of there quick smart. And that wasn’t a very pleasant thought.
There was a whole room full of humans inside – far too many for his liking. And they were all there for the same reason.
Any moment it was going to come through the door and make its grand entrance. And the cat was going to be right there to see it.
Even if it cost him one of his nine lives!
There was a gasp from inside, then everything went quiet. The cat trembled in anticipation and pressed his face close up against the window. In fact if he pressed it any harder the glass was in danger of shattering. But at that particular moment, he didn’t much care. It was here.
He watched as the humans from the blue car walked into the room. There were two of them. Within seconds, the crowd milled around them like bees to honey, and the cat couldn’t see a thing. He cursed under his breath.
Then suddenly the humans began to disperse, and he saw it. He nearly choked.
He took a moment to compose himself. He couldn’t believe his eyes. He looked again, just to make sure he wasn’t imagining things. Was that a dog he could see? A dog?
No, it couldn’t be, it wasn’t possible. No dog in the whole wide world could cause so much interest that everyone in Popple Court had to come and see it. Not even if it had royal bloodlines.
Well that would probably attract some attention, but nowhere near as much as this dog was getting. Besides, this dog definitely didn’t have a royal look about it.
No, the more the cat thought about it, the more he was sure: this was just an ordinary, everyday-type dog. There was nothing special about it. It had two ears and two eyes, a nose, a mouth, and four legs just like any other dog. And what was that ridiculous-looking contraption it was wearing?
It was embarrassing really. How dare a dog get all that attention? Especially one as plain and unspecial looking as the one inside Number 26 Popple Court.
The cat sat and watched, and hissed in disgust when he saw the dog look up at him.
The cat was not impressed. Not one little bit.
Alby liked his new home and his new family. It was nice to finally be settled somewhere for good. He had done more in the first 18 months of his life than most dogs did in a lifetime. Not th
at he was complaining. He had met lots of new people, and seen and done lots of new and different things. Still, it was strange to think that his life had pretty much been mapped out for him.
A sudden noise interrupted his thoughts and he glanced towards the fence. A cat was sitting there, large as life, licking its paws and watching him. Not once did it shift its gaze.
Alby wandered out of the sunroom onto the grass for a better look. Was that the same cat he’d seen on the kitchen window earlier when he arrived?
It was stretching now, its long, sharp claws glistening in the moonlight. Then suddenly it spoke.
‘You think you’re very special, don’t you?’ it hissed.
‘Are you talking to me?’
Alby was quite surprised that a fat fluffy cat who knew absolutely nothing about him would ask him such a question.
‘Of course I’m talking to you,’ said the cat huffily. ‘Do you see anyone else around?’
‘Who are you, anyway?’
‘I’m not at liberty to disclose my name at the present time.’
Alby watched the cat with interest. It certainly was a talkative creature, and very full of itself.
‘Well then,’ he replied. ‘I’m not at liberty to tell you anything about myself, either.’
‘I could rip you apart with these,’ said the cat, its claws on full show.
‘And I could bite you in half with these,’ said Alby, showing his teeth. (Of course he would never actually do it because he’d been taught not to, but the cat didn’t know that, did it?)
There was silence for a moment as they stared at one another, still sizing each other up.
‘So, what was that thing you were wearing earlier?’ asked the cat finally. ‘You looked ridiculous in it. Absolutely ridiculous.’
‘Oh that, it’s my harness,’ said Alby.
‘Well, gee. Thanks. That tells me a lot.’
Alby sighed. ‘I wear it when I’m working.’
‘Oh right,’ laughed the cat. ‘So you work. And just what is it that you do?’
‘I’m a guide dog,’ said Alby.
‘A guide dog?’ said the cat. ‘What’s that? I’ve never heard of it.’
‘It’s a very important job,’ said Alby. ‘I have my very own blind human to take care of. I provide
him with security and independence and I help him to get around safely. And he gets the companionship of a loving, intelligent, devoted creature such as myself.’
‘Well,’ said the cat, ‘I would have thought he’d have picked a better-looking specimen than you.’
‘Sorry to disappoint you,’ said Alby. ‘But the Labrador Retriever is the breed most commonly used for guide dog training.’
‘Can’t imagine why,’ sneered the cat.
‘Because we are highly trainable with a placid temperament. We’re responsive and quick to learn. And we also have a very positive community image!’
‘Talk about blowing your own trumpet,’ said the cat.
‘Do you work?’ asked Alby.
‘Of course I do,’ said the cat quickly. ‘I ... I ... I catch mice. Exceptionally good at it too, I might add. Easily the best mouse catcher in Popple Court.’
‘Very impressive,’ said Alby.
A door squeaked open at Number 28. It was the cat’s human.
‘Pussums, oh Pussums! Come here my Pussums!’
Her shrill voice pierced the night and the cat cringed with embarrassment.
‘Pussums,’ the woman called again. ‘Ten minutes and I lock the door.’
Then she went back inside, the door squeaking behind her.
But she left the light on, which was good, and the cat breathed a sigh of relief.
When the light went off it meant that the door was locked and he had to look for alternative sleeping arrangements. That was not good. Not good at all.
Alby burst out laughing. He couldn’t help it.
‘Well Pussums, aren’t you the lucky one with a name like that!’
‘Be quiet,’ snapped the cat. ‘I don’t have to listen to your drivel … Alby, isn’t it? And you think I’m the one with the laughable name. How on earth did you get landed with that?’
‘All the guide dog litters are named after a letter of the alphabet,’ explained Alby. ‘I’m from the A litter. I have three sisters and a brother called Annie, Alenka, Arian and Alan.’
‘No kidding,’ said the cat. ‘Fascinating. I’ll sleep well tonight for knowing that.’
Well, you’d better be running along,’ said Alby. ‘I’d feel dreadful if you were locked out on my account. You’d have to bunk in with me and I have to
be up early in the morning
for work.’
The cat glared at Alby for a moment, then jumped off the fence and into the backyard of Number 28.
As soon as the alarm went off, Jim was up and into the clothes his wife Ellen had left out for him the previous evening.
Alby was waiting in the sunroom, with a good morning lick and a wagging tail that Jim felt as soon as he put his hands to Alby’s body. In no time at all he had Alby harnessed and ready for their first walk to the shop together to collect bread, milk and the newspaper for Ellen.
They could get the paper delivered if they wanted, but they chose not to. Jim preferred to walk to the shop every morning. That way, he was forced to go out into the world to do everyday things, and this gave him a sense of normality.
Moments later Jim and Alby were out front and just about ready to go, when Jim realised he’d forgotten his talking clock. Jim liked to have this with him to keep track of the time.
‘Alby – stay,’ he instructed the dog. And then he went inside to find it.
Alby waited patiently, enjoying the perfect stillness of the morning, when a familiar voice broke the tranquillity.
‘Well, if it isn’t Alby the Wonder Dog. I mean guide dog,’ said the cat, who was sitting on the wall in front of Number 26.
‘Go away,’ said Alby sternly. ‘I’m busy.’
‘It’s a free world,’ said the cat. ‘I can do what I like.’
‘Can’t you see I’m in my harness?’ said Alby. ‘That means I’m working and I have to concentrate. Jim and I are off to the shop.’ He frowned. ‘Don’t you have something to do?’
‘Actually,’ sighed the cat, ‘I happen to be going walking myself. It would be a shame to waste such a beautiful morning.’
‘Well, don’t let me stop you,’
said Alby.
Just then, Jim made his way out of the garage door and stopped.
‘Alby – come,’ he said, and the dog obeyed.
Jim gripped the handles of the harness and waited until he was sure Alby was ready. Then he
said, ‘Alby, forward and to the shop.’ And off they went.
They walked straight past the cat on the wall as if it wasn’t even there.
The cat scowled. Then it jumped off the wall and followed straight along behind, its tail twitching and waving in the air.
Before long Jim and Alby were at the intersection of Main and Breeden Streets. As usual, Jim took his time to get his bearings and familiarise himself with where he was. Alby stood patiently by Jim’s side, awaiting his instructions.
After a few moments, Jim gave Alby the forward command to cross the road. He was just about to do so, when he spied the cat following along behind.
Didn’t that cat know when to quit? It was driving Alby crazy. He was busy working and certainly in no mood for silly games.
He tried to stay focused and did his best to ignore the cat. The intersection could get busy very quickly, and Alby had to keep his wits about him.
But the cat was distracting him, and worse still, it was doing it on purpose – that much was clear.
It hovered a few metres behind, then zipped up in front for a bit, always close enough for Alby to be aware of its presence.
Jim and Alby were not even halfway across the intersection when a car screeched around the corner and hurtled
towards them. It was going too fast to stop.
Jim gasped. He tried not to panic as the roar of the car surrounded him, but he didn’t know what to do.
Alby sensed Jim’s unease immediately. He had been taught to stop if a car approached after he had already started to cross the road, so he did. The harness enabled Jim to sense the dog’s movements and follow his lead, so he stopped too – putting all his faith in Alby.
Alby suddenly thought of the cat. Then he saw it just behind him on the road – directly in the path of the speeding car.
Alby watched in horror. There was nothing he could do. The car didn’t even slow down. It sped right past them and roared off up the road. And then all was quiet again.
Jim’s heart was thumping in his chest and his breath came in short, sharp bursts.
‘That was too close for comfort,’ he said to Alby. Then he knelt down beside him and stroked him gently on the head. ‘Great work boy.’
Jim and Alby stopped on the footpath, where they waited for several minutes. The incident with the car had really rattled Jim and put a big dent in his confidence. His guide dog instructor would have called it a ‘setback’. And the first setback was always the worst.
When he felt ready again, Jim instructed Alby to move forward to the shop. They had already lost a bit of time, and if they delayed any more, the traffic would start to get heavy. Jim didn’t fancy having to tackle rush-hour traffic on the way home, especially when his confidence was low.
Jim felt Alby hesitate, and ran his hand down Alby’s back.
‘What’s wrong boy?’ he asked softly. ‘It’s okay. The car’s gone. We’ll be fine now.’
But Alby wasn’t worried about that. He looked behind him to where he had last seen the cat. A feeling of dread began to well up in the pit of his stomach. The cat was gone.
Alby and the Cat Page 1
