The Cats of Butterwick Sands

by Gabriella Thomas

  Reggie and Jonty were quite happy in the arcade with Bingo, little Tina and their happy little family but they missed their old fairground home with its wide open spaces. ‘Sergeant’ Reggie tried policing the arcade but there were too many people and children everywhere and also too many DOGS on leads. Bingo and his family were used to slinking around and even running along the pier. “Um yeah, you know, like its great here,” miawoed Bingo, always as ever, a cat of few words. But the best part of living there was when Jonty joined Reggie for hot dogs in the cafe where Susan always had tasty tit-bits for them. Jonty would have quite happily stayed in the arcade but he would never leave ‘Sergeant’ Reggie.

  Meanwhile, over at old Bloom’s, Finlay had made a cosy nest on a lower shelf next to a clockwork dancing cat and a pile of knitted tea cosies. Old Bloom had welcomed this new addition to the shop and now left two bowls of food out each night. Otis said to Finlay, “Hey puss, see if you can see how old Hester gets down from up there,” pointing into the gloom. Finlay looked up, cats can see well in the dark and he could make out a pair of amber eyes looking down at him, “And if you do find out let me in on it!” Otis gave Finlay a pat and went off laughing to himself, “Its crazy man, really crazy.”

  At last, on a crisp spring day in early May, the trucks with the workmen, the diggers, the cranes and all the equipment started to make their slow progress through the new fairground, past the new swimming pool and mini golf and up toward the new caravan park with its rows and rows of gleaming new caravans and finally onto the road that led down toward the outskirts of Butterwick. The cats and the chickens, Malachi and various assorted birds came blinking out into the sunlight to watch the slow progression of the men in their bright yellow jackets and the big machines. Old Mags, Sonia, Ben, Mariella and little Elliot also came out to watch; the work was all finished.

  “Men going now, Mama,” said Mariella.

  “Yes darling they have finished now,” answered Sonia.

  “Thank the lord,” added old Mags, “I was fair going mad with it all.”

  “Well we better go and see it then,” grinned Ben, as he scooped Elliot up into his arms. There was now a very high wooden fence dividing their part of the fairground from the rest of the park and there was a door at their end of the fence, to which only Ben, Sonia and old Mags had the key to. At the other end, the ‘cat’s end’, there was a simple cat flap in the fence and also at that end; a small window had been made so that visitors to the fairground and caravan park could look through to see the ‘famous’ Butterwick cats. Indeed, the whole perimeter was a fenced off so that that whole area was completely private. As the little group made their way to the new animal huts, they saw Malachi, the chickens and a small group of cats outside.

  “Looks like they also want to have a look at their new homes!” laughed Sonia. There were twenty wooden huts across from the perimeter fence and they went to peer into the nearest one; it did look very warm and cosy inside. The huts also had cat flaps and one had chicken sized hatches for the chickens; the main doors would only be used when fresh straw was put into the huts – a job which old Mags had volunteered to do. Mr Peabody would be providing the all the clean straw and feed for old Malachi and the hens and Mr Peabody was now old Mags’ most favourite person in the whole world. “A real gentleman that and true to his word,” she had said. Sonia and Ben just smiled to themselves as they remembered all the insults that had once been thrown Mr Peabody’s way by old Mags, in the earliest days of his return to Butterwick. Once a week Peabody would visit old Mags, he would decline supper but then share a good bottle of single malt whiskey with her. Peabody just loved sitting by the open fire putting the world to rights with her.

  All the huts had a long trough running through the back where clean running water was available and inside each hut there were four tiers of wide shelving with the top one reaching near to the roof. Each hut also had a skylight so they wouldn’t be in total darkness. The shelves had fresh clean straw on them, ready for their new ‘residents’. Mariella ran over to the lowest shelf, “Look Mummy, the pussy cats will go to beddy byes here.”

  “That’s right,” replied Sonia, “aren’t they lucky pussy cats to have such a cosy house!”

  The workmen had also tidied up the land around old Mags’ and the families’ caravans with some land dug up to make an allotment, so they could grow vegetables. All in all, the young family and old Mags had done very well out of the whole venture. Bowler of course, could not be trusted to go near the huts as he still hated the cats and so unfortunately he would have to stay on his long leash most of the time… until maybe one day, he might grow to love the cats too! At this very moment however, he was feeling rather sorry for himself as he had been excluded from the proceedings and so was yapping and barking. It was then that who else but ‘Sergeant’ Reggie had decided to come up to the park with Jonty and a large group of cats to look at and inspect the huts. They all strolled past poor Bowler as though he wasn’t there, without a care in the world!

  “Hey, you cats, this bit is OUR land you can’t just walk through without permission,” he barked. “Yap yap, yap.”

  “Just ignore him,” said Reggie to the other cats but as they passed by, he hissed and spat at Bowler. Kiya was asleep in the empty cooking pot swinging over the unlit fire and woke up with the noise and lifted her head over the pot rim.

  As Jonty, walked past Kiya in her pot, he said, “I’m not really bothered, are you?”

  Kiya thought for a moment and said, “No,” and popped her head back down.

  Old Mags, Ben, Sonia and the children were walking back and saw the group of cats walking toward them. Old Mags chuckled, “Aye the cats will make themselves at home as they always do.”

  The cats did approve and after having a good sniff around and having a lap at the water, ‘Sergeant’ Reggie nimbly jumped from shelf to shelf in hut No1 and claimed the far end of the top shelf as his own. Of course Jonty took the position next to him and soon lots of cats joined them and the other huts started to fill up too. Lala, Milo and Lilibet with their families’ and Clarence decided on hut No 4, the whole brood spread themselves out along the whole bottom shelf, as Lala could not possibly climb up to the higher shelves and Milo could not possibly let her. The regular residents and several new strays slowly settled in, claiming their own spaces and marking their own territories. There were several of these new strays that were expecting kittens and Mr Peabody was very aware that the fairground and park could easily become overrun with cats, which would not benefit either the fair or the cats, so he had contacted the local vet who, every so often, would be calling to neuter the cats who had already had a litter… well, that was the plan, good luck Mr Peabody!

  Of course there were plenty of fights in the early days as the regular cats and the new strays fought for territory and a spot for a new home and the bigger, stronger cats soon became ‘leaders’, but ‘Sergeant’ Reggie always managed to outwit them all and maintained his position. Gripper and his gang also paid a visit and decided to wee inside the huts to show they were tough; unfortunately for Gripper, Big Roley was visiting Fergus that day and caught Gripper coming out of a hut. He simply sat on Gripper who just squealed and squealed and in the end, Fergus had to say, “Let ’im go, Roley, I think he’s learned his lesson!” A family coming up the cliff path, saw the rather strange sight of a rather flat looking cat who seemed to have no legs running along, closely followed by a motley collection of felines hissing and spitting. Suffice to say the fairground and park were never bothered by Gripper again!

  Chickens, birds and seagulls all came to have a look, squawking, crowing and screeching. Rhona and the hens came bustling in. “Well, this is quite lush!” she screeched.

  Caesar followed her in. “Ladies, ladies, come back, back to our hut, everything’s back to normal!”

  Cynthia the speckled bantam clucked, “Shut it, you silly old fowl, we might just move in h
ere!”

  Gunther and Sigmund the seagulls flew up to the top shelf of hut No.10, intending to make a roost and a nuisance of themselves up there. To their total amazement they found a swan already sitting there preening its feathers and looking quite serene. “How ze swan it get up there Gunther?” asked Sigmund. Gunther, who would not even attempt to tackle a swan replied, “We will find another hut, I vill not share with ze long neck!”

  Meanwhile Malachi, who had given an unfortunate pullet a final kick out of his barn door, whinnied in a loud voice, “Hurrumph! I demand compensation for all the inconvenience and humiliation of sharing my home with lesser creatures, I demand that…”

  He had come out of his barn and in front of him licking his paws and cleaning his face was Percy. Everyone and everything knew about Percy, even an old horse like Malachi knew about Percy. Percy stopped his cleaning and looked up at Malachi, in the calmest of meows he said, “compensation would not be forthcoming old chap as, under the arrangements there was no obligation for Peabody to make special dispensation for carthorses as per paragraph seventeen of the official legal document lodged with the Fairmile solicitors, Bolt and Peck, specialists in land law.” Percy then carried on washing himself, Malachi just stood there looking vacant, his eyes rolling around and trying really hard to understand what this meant. Finally, he did the only thing he could; he said, “Hurrumph,” turned around and walked back into his barn.

  That night there was much too-ing and froing as humans and animals settled into the new arrangements. Stray cats of all shapes and sizes were making themselves at home in the barns and even pigeons, who tend to be everywhere also found nooks and crannies away from the cats. There were all manner of rodents, the odd hedgehog and even a runaway sheep had bleated its way into hut No. 15. Old Mags, Peabody and Stan, Sonia, Ben and the children plus most of Butterwick were gathered round old Mags’ campfire eating and drinking the food and beer kindly brought up by Ivor and Ella. Bilko was over excited as usual and was running like a wild thing up and down with Bowler behind him as he had managed to get free from his leash.

  “Let’s go and frighten some cats,” said silly Bowler.

  “No Bowler,” woofed Bilko as he stopped in his tracks, “the cats are my friends, you should try getting on with them you know.”

  “Never,” snapped Bowler, “we are dogs. How can you say that?” and with that, he went yapping and barking toward the huts. He didn’t get very far, the swan had come out of the hut and was elegantly preening herself, she gave Bowler such a vicious peck, that he went whining and yelping back to the caravan.

  Well tomorrow would be the grand opening of the fairground and the start of a new adventure!

  17

  Happy Days

  The great day had arrived, a beautiful late spring day and from mid-morning a steady stream of people climbed the cliff path or arrived by the road where a new car park had been built. The strains of the Wurlitzer and the music from all the rides could be heard all around. The path was lit by hundreds of little lights starting at old Bloom’s and running right to the entrance. The smell of burgers and hot dogs filled the air as well as fish and chips, as Mrs McAllister was running a fish and chip stall and all her lively brood were up here too, Hamish had gone to join the other cats in the choir and they were all at the back of the new ghost train singing, “The sun has got his hat on,” to a small audience of cats and birds. When humans passed by all they heard was a bunch of cats caterwauling and laughed when they saw a particularly fat cat at the front caterwauling louder than the rest; he looked like he had a moustache and his whiskers quivered. But the children heard the song and knew that it was Mario from Pasta Fazoulle restaurant and that this was their own cats’ choir. Mario’s humans, Papa Ravioli and family also had a stall selling spaghetti meataballs, which was doing a roaring trade.

  At 3pm the band ‘So What’ played to the crowd accompanied by much screaming and crying from teenage girls and Mildred Trotter, who also had a ‘crush’ on the band and was wiggling and jiggling, with all her chins bouncing! She was at the front of the crowd with Rosie under her arm and much to the amusement of the spotty and spindly band who were to be, ‘the next big thing’. The local newspapers were there and even a TV station capturing all the excitement.

  There was Oatmeal in her brand new sparkly waistcoat, made exclusively for this grand occasion, sitting on her mistresses’ stall which was selling ‘vegan treats’; so far this stall was very quiet. On the other hand, Alex and Karolina were doing a roaring trade selling hot pies, potatoes, and Polish treats. Bilko and Ella had come up as well; Ivor had stayed behind in the pub as it was now so busy every day. Bilko as usual was over excited; he had seen several of his doggy friends and had run over tail wagging. Ella had met Miss Quinn who was strolling, arm in arm with Miss Brewster. They would be going later on to have supper with old George down at Barrow station. The station was now busy every day, so much so that old George had taken on an apprentice from Barrow called Toby, a lanky youth who had always been obsessed with trains. “Aye he’s alright, the lad,” old George had said to Miss Quinn and Mrs Brewster, “I reckon he’ll be a good station master one day, as ’e loves his trains.” George had cooked them all a lovely supper and then they would be going back up to the fairground in the evening. “Might even have a go on a ride, ’ows about it, Miss Quinn?” he laughed and blew his pipe smoke; Miss Quinn blushed and giggled.

  Up at the fairground it was packed, with all the stalls and rides busy and the caravan park was booked up until late October. Mr Brewster and Mr Peabody stood together at the top of the cliff path surveying the scene.

  “Well, Peabody, you did it, it’s a great success,” said Mr Brewster.

  Peabody let out a big sigh and puffed on his cigar, “No Brewster, this town made it possible, this place is magical, it makes things happen and it’s all because of the cats.”

  Brewster replied, “Well I certainly have to agree with that!” as they started to make their way toward the stage at the back of the fairground where, at this moment, another headline act, Billy Shine, who was now rather rotund and squeezed into what looked like a foil suit, took to the stage with his now ageing ‘boy band’. The teenagers this time broke into squeals of laughter, but the older generation, who remembered the band the first time round cheered and clapped. In the corner at the far end of the fence a small queue had formed. Mums and dads were lifting up their children to peer through the small glass window there, so they could see Lala and her brood sitting outside their hut, taking the evening air as other cats wandered around. A dappled carthorse was grazing and chickens were pecking around in the earth. At the other end of the fence which could not be seen through the window, the two caravans stood and outside by an open fire, old Mags stirred her big pot with Fergus sitting and blinking in the firelight.

  “Well Ferg, my ’andsome it ain’t so bad after all tis a bit noisy but it’s all over by eleven or so and we’ve got this land for life! Ah that Peabody ’ees a good sort.” Fergus just blinked slowly at his mistress, his bright kerchief round his neck. Tomorrow he would once again join old Mags in the Fortune Teller’s tent and the extra money meant there would be pilchards for supper! Over at the other caravan all was quiet as the family including Bowler were still at the fair. Only Kiya was at home in her favourite place the watering can and as usual she really was not bothered. In the months to come Old Mags, Sonia, Ben, Mariella and Elliot and their animals’ even Bowler would adapt happily to their new environment and all the worries about the changes would be long forgotten.

  Through the bright twinkling lights a sleek Bengal tabby cat is running softly toward the cliff path; Percy stopped for a moment to sniff the evening air and then continued down the path. A little way down, he saw a rather sorry looking cat coming up the path toward him. It was very skinny and had raw patches on his fur, one ear was torn and he had a limp. As soon as he saw Percy, his tail went up and he arc
hed his back, which cats will do when they face a stranger cat. Percy kept his tail down so the other cat knew he would not have to fight. As he got nearer the stray cat mewled to Percy, “Ex-cuse me, I-I am looking for the place that cats go to, I am hungry and tired and…”

  Percy held up a paw, “Greetings, yes you are in the right place,” pointing to the fence, “go along to the very end of the fence, there is a cat flap, go through and you will be home, home in Butterwick Sands.”

  There we will leave our Butterwick friends, human and animal and who knows how many adventures are still to be had and when we will join them again. And so, next time you see a pussy cat running quickly away on a sidewalk or through the undergrowth, who knows, the cat could be making its way to Butterwick Sands… a place you now know about too!