by Ged Gillmore
Anyhoo, once Old MacDonald died, the farm—as I may have mentioned—fell into wrack and ruin. The old milking shed crumbled and became overgrown with weeds; holes formed in the sides and the roof of the stables, and the farmhouse lost its entire front wall. Only the smokehouse survived intact. No one ever visited, not even the postman. No one ever popped in, for few people knew the farm still existed. And almost no one ever drove by, for the nearest road to the farm was a quiet road with nothing much else of interest on it. In fact, the farm was so incredibly quiet and forlorn that it was easy for a cat living there to forget human beings and cars and cities even existed.
So, can you imagine Minnie and Ginger and Tuck’s surprise as they now watched a very large, high-sided truck driving towards them down the overgrown driveway? At first they stood dumbstruck, failing to believe their eyes. Then they all spoke at the same time.
‘Run!’ miaowed Minnie.
‘Hide!’ hissed Ginger.
‘Mummy!’ squealed Tuck.
Then the three of them bumped into each other as they got confused about which way to run and hide and cry for their mummies.
‘Quick!’ said Minnie. ‘Let’s get inside the smokehouse. Ginger, where’s the key?’
‘I don’t have it on me,’ said Ginger slyly. ‘Maybe there’s another way in?’
‘What about the stables?’ said Tuck. ‘Let’s run in there instead!’
Well, Minnie and Ginger didn’t even respond. Instead they both turned and bolted for the nearest hole in the stables’ wall. The hole was the shape and size of a cat holding a bazooka, and first Ginger and then Minnie jumped through as quickly as they could. But what’s faster than a fat and a fearful cat? An athletic and fearful Tuck, that’s what. He’d got inside the stables so quickly I didn’t even have time to describe it.
‘Ooh, ooh, ooh,’ he said to Ginger and Minnie as they landed either side of him. ‘What if it’s King Rat come to eat us all?’
Ginger rolled her eyes and licked her chest coolly, as if she too hadn’t just bolted in.
‘Tuck,’ she said. ‘King Rat doesn’t exist, and, even if he did, I doubt he’d drive a human-size truck. Come on, let’s go up to the gable window and see what this is all about.’
‘Don’t want to!’ Tuck miaowed sadly. ‘I want to run and hide and be safe.’
‘Safe all alone?’ said Minnie. ‘Good luck with that. We’re going upstairs.’
Aw, bad luck Tuck. The only thing he hated more than Minnie and Ginger fighting was when Minnie and Ginger ganged up on him. He looked around fearfully at the stables and thought they had never looked less safe. High above he could see the huge hole in the roof, and high above that the top of the giant oak tree that stood outside, its branches whipping back and forth in the late autumn wind. All around him, dead leaves rustled in the shadows, like creatures waiting to bite him on the bum. Unsure of what to do, he looked back at Ginger and Minnie and saw they’d started climbing up an old plank to the remains of the attic above.
‘Wait for me!’ he yowled. ‘I want to go up to the gable window and see what this is all about!’
Well, needless to say, Tuck was first to arrive at the little round window built into the wall facing the farmyard. As he stared through it, fearful of how high up he now was, the gigantic human-sized truck pulled up below him. Pumping pistons, it was loud! Chugger, chugger, chugger it went, belching black smoke out its two huge exhaust pipes and vibrating like a giant metal jelly.
‘Ooh,’ said Tuck. ‘It’s so big.’
‘Let me see,’ said Minnie coming up behind him and pushing in on his right for a look through the window.
‘I need to see it too,’ said Ginger, squeezing in on his left to get the best view.
Minnie pushed in harder on the right and Ginger pushed in harder on the left and soon poor Tuck found himself unable to move at all. Which was probably quite fortunate for otherwise he would have soon run away from the horrible sight unfolding in the farmyard below.
‘Ooh, eugh, eek,’ he said. ‘It’s so horrible and ugly!’
Tuck had not seen many humans in his life, so the sight of the tall, pale, skinny man who now climbed out of the giant truck’s cabin was quite a shock to him. As I’m sure it would be to you too if you were used to cute and furry animals about the same size as you.
‘Agh!’ he said. ‘It is King Rat!’
‘Oh shush, Tucky, it’s just a human,’ said Minnie.
‘It’s a man,’ said Ginger, keen to show her expertise. ‘And that is a woman.’
She was talking about the short and dumpy person who was climbing her way down from the driver’s door of the truck, scratching her ribs and, once she’d arrived safely on the ground, rubbing her nose on the sleeve of her pullover.
‘Humans normally find me perfectly adorable,’ said Minnie. ‘Maybe they’ll take me in and love me and let me share their bed.’
‘Ssh,’ said Ginger. ‘Watch.’
For the two humans had opened a door in the trailer behind the truck’s cabin and were now pulling out long pieces of wood. They were clearly chatting and laughing as they did this, but their voices were inaudible over the chugging of the truck’s engine. The wind blew its exhaust fumes towards the stables until the three cats’ noses were full of nothing but its stink. Tuck, with better eyes than either Ginger or Minnie, was fascinated by what he’d seen inside the trailer. For past the pieces of wood, attached to the far wall, he thought he’d seen a row of cages. And for a split second he thought he saw a shadow inside the cage opposite the door. A black shadow with four legs.
Once the humans had taken all the wood, a ladder, and a toolbox out of the truck, they slammed the door shut and started hammering the pieces of wood together into a huge wooden structure. When it got too tall for them to work on from the ground, the man held the ladder for the woman to climb to the very top of the construction so she could bang with a hammer up there too. Thud, thud, thud went the hammer; chug, chug, chug went the big truck’s engine, on and on and on for so long that Tuck began to feel quite sleepy. It was, after all, rather warm and cosy with Ginger on one side and Minnie on the other. He even closed his eyes for a second and thought maybe this wasn’t so scary after all—unless he’d suddenly become extremely brave and no one had thought to tell him. Then he opened his eyes again and was amazed to see the humans had stopped hammering and building and banging and were now unfurling an enormous roll of paper between them. As Tuck watched, the woman climbed the ladder again and stuck the piece of paper to the front of the wooden frame. Then, without so much as a cursory look at the farm, the two humans gave each other a high five, jumped back into the truck, reversed it over the brick-paved farmyard, turned and chug, chug, chugged up the driveway and away towards the road. The silence they left behind them was such a sudden surprise that, for a while, even the leaves forgot to rustle in the wind.
It was ten minutes before Ginger and Minnie dared to leave the stables, and another ten minutes after that before Tuck dared to join them. He found them sitting side by side, staring up at the huge wooden structure the humans had left behind. It was shaped like a flat screen on giant wooden legs.
‘Is it a cinema?’ said Tuck. ‘Just for us?’
‘It’s a billboard,’ said Ginger, her lips moving slowly as she read the human writing.
Tuck asked Minnie what the billboard said, but Minnie was silent for a while before admitting she’d skipped school the day they learned to read as there had been an important beauty contest on. Now, both Tuck and Ginger knew this was a complete lie. Minnie was a very good reader, but she was far too vain to ever wear her glasses. Ginger rolled her eyes, then read aloud what was written on the sign:
LAND ACQUIRED
Dingleberry Bottom Farm has been acquired on behalf of Pong’s Pet Products
Construction work to start next week
No trespassers, no hawkers, no poppers-in and absolutely no animals!
‘No animals!’ said Tuck. ‘But w
hat about the poor bunnies in the fields?’
‘Bother the bunnies,’ said Minnie. ‘What about us?
‘Ooh, ooh,’ said Tuck, running around in a circle. ‘What about us? What about us!! Ginger, what are we going to do?’
‘What we are not going to do is panic,’ said Ginger calmly. ‘It looks like we’re going to have company, and human company at that. But that could be a good thing.’
‘Hang on!’ said Minnie. ‘Pong’s Pet Products? They make those new Pongs Party Pies for Pets? You know, like the adverts on the telly?’
Much to Ginger and Tuck’s surprise, Minnie burst into song:
‘Put down a Pong pie for your pussy or pooch,
And they will thank you very, very mooch!’
‘Oh, this is fabulous news,’ she said. ‘Humans with pet food. Oh, they’re going to love me so mooch!’
‘But on the other paw,’ said Ginger, narrowing her eyes, ‘it does say “no animals”.’
Well, that shut Minnie up, which at least had the effect of improving Ginger’s mood.
‘Come on,’ said Ginger, ‘let’s get inside. It’s getting dark and there’s nothing we can do about it now.’
‘Getting dark?!’ said Minnie, noticing the fading sky above them. ‘Flippin ‘eck, what’s the time?! Oh no! Oh no, no, no, no. I mustn’t miss Kitten’s Got Talent, not tonight of all bloomin’ nights!’
And with that she ran towards the house, even faster than she’d run for the stables. Oh, Minnie in flight—what a fur-filled and magnificent sight.
Watching her go, Ginger shook her head, sighed and padded back to the smokehouse. But Tuck sat where he was as the evening grew dark around him, staring up at the sign and wondering why a pet food company wouldn’t like animals.
WHAT A PALAVER!
Minnie stared anxiously at the tiny white dot in the middle of the television screen. As I may have mentioned, the television set was pretty ancient and—as you may or may not know—in the old days (when your grandparents were young and everything was in black-and-white), televisions didn’t click on instantly like they do today. Oh woeful wait-times, no! You had to sit around picking your nose until they’d warmed up. Yes, really! And, as there were no cables or satellite dishes; to get a picture you had to keep rearranging the metal aerial that stuck out the top of the television set. Oh yes, you did! If you don’t believe me, ask an old person—quickly before they die.
Bennyway, while the television was warming up, Minnie herself was cooling down. As darkness had fallen, the wind that had blown across the countryside through the Great Dark Forest and into the farm all day had grown even stronger and even colder. Minnie bristled her thick fur and stared at the screen as at last it came to life.
‘That’s right, toms and queens,’ said a voice from the television, ‘you’ll want to make a beeline for this feline, for it’s time to meet the host who can boast the most. Put your paws together because heeeeeeeeeeere’s Mickey!’
The screen blurred as the camera panned across an audience of screaming young cats to the host of Kitten’s Got Talent, a Manx cat called Mickey Manx. Now, Manx cats have ridiculously short tails and are very rare outside the Isle of Man. Maybe it was this exoticism that explained Mickey Manx’s appeal, or maybe it was his perfect grey stripes and his glittering white teeth. He was very popular with a lot of cats, particularly female cats, and especially particularly with female cats who watched television.
‘Hello Mickey,’ Minnie purred under her breath.
‘Hello out there,’ Mickey Manx said to the camera and Minnie felt the same little thrill she felt every week. As if Mickey Manx were talking to no other cat in the world but her.
‘And let’s not forget folks,’ Micky Manx was saying in his dank accent, ‘tonight is a big, big night for some of you out there …’
‘Yes, it is!’ said Minnie.
‘… because tonight’s the night when we—’
Just then a gust of wind blew through the room, bringing with it big crunchy leaves and even a few fair-sized twigs from the oak tree that stood over by the stables. Most of these rattled onto the floor in front of the television set, but one of them smashed into the aerial on top of it. Minnie held her breath as the screen went blank, then exhaled loudly as it came back to life again, although in a furrier and fuzzier version than before.
‘But first,’ Mickey Manx was saying, ‘let’s meet our opening act. All the way from the coast, it’s a trapeze act with a difference, it’s—’
Again the screen went blank. Only this time—as Minnie stared in disbelief—it stayed blank.
Now, I don’t know if you’ve ever visited the Chinese opera, or set off a car alarm, or put an accordion in a blender, but if you can imagine a combination of all three of those things, then you can imagine the noise which now came out of Minnie.
‘Miiiaaaoooouuuueeeeewwww! Agh! Help!’ she screamed. ‘Tuck, help, help, help!!!’
Tuck was still near the bottom of the driveway staring up at the sign, but when he heard Minnie’s horrendous scream, he bolted for the farmhouse, shot up the stairs and tore into the television room. For although Tuck was a very cowardly cat, he always forgot his fear if others were in danger.
‘What is it?’ he asked Minnie. ‘Are the leaves getting dangerous? Did King Rat decide he does exist after all? Are you having a nervous breakdance?’
‘It’s worse than all them fings combined,’ cried Minnie. ‘The telly’s not working.’
Then, thinking Tuck looked relieved, she started to sob loudly, struggling to speak through her tears.
‘Most important … sniff … night of the year … my big chance … sniff … nobody loves me or ever has … sniff …if only we could get the aerial working … sniff …’
‘I love you,’ said Tuck. ‘You know I do.’
‘Oh good,’ said Minnie, suddenly not crying or sniffing at all. ‘Well ‘urry up and fix the aerial then. C’mon, darl, look lively! Just jump up there, that’s it. Then hold it up, that’s it! Yes! Yes!!!’
As Tuck jumped up and rearranged the aerial, the television screen once again flickered to life. Immediately Minnie was transfixed, the screen’s black-and-white images reflected in her eyes.
‘Can I stop now?’ Tuck asked after a few minutes. He was balanced on three legs, his fourth one hooked around the base of the aerial whilst his tail pushed against it to stop it from toppling.
‘No!’ said Minnie gruffly. ‘Look at this double act, they’re dreadful. I don’t know what they did to their hair stylist but, OMG, the revenge is ‘orrible. Gasp! They’re so off-key!’
Tuck said nothing for another minute or two, listening to the singing from the television below him. Then he said, ‘This isn’t very comfortable, actually. Can I stop please? The wind’s blowing up my bum and it makes me want to sneeze.’
Minnie ignored him. She was giggling at the caterwauls from the Kitten’s Got Talent studio audience as it responded to the act on stage. Suddenly the audience was interrupted by Mickey Manx’s Isle of Man accent.
‘Ho, ho, ho, dearie me, I think that’s a resounding ‘No’ from the audience. I did warn you, they’re a catty bunch! But, anyway folks, this is the moment you’ve all been waiting for. This is the moment when we tell all of you out there in your dull and dreary little world, if you’ll be joining us in the glamorous exciting fun-filled world of show business. Here comes the list. We’re ready to—’
‘Achoo!’ sneezed Tuck.
And then, because he never sneezed once, ‘Achoo! Achoo!’
Tuck heard a strange rattling noise and looked down to see that he’d dropped the aerial onto the floor.
‘NOOOOOO!!! No, Tuck, go back to ‘ow you were, go back to ‘ow you were! Why are you ruining my life?’
‘You have to say “Bless you”,’ said Tuck. ‘It’s only polite.’
‘Fix the furballing aerial, you moron!’ screamed Minnie, which – you have to admit – doesn’t sound like ‘Bless you’ in any language
. But then Minnie must have seen something in Tuck’s face, because she quickly said, ‘I mean bless you, bless you, bless you times a thousand. Oh, Tuck, please, you’re not a moron, I am. But please, please, pretty-please with cheese on top, please fix the aerial.’
Well, Tuck might hate being called stupid—or dumb, or an idiot, or a moron—or anything which implied he was nearly as academically ungifted as he really was, but he did also really adore Minnie. So he jumped down from the television set, picked up the aerial in his teeth, and jumped back up again.
‘Even better!’ said Minnie. ‘The picture’s perfect now. Whatever you do, don’t blooming move!’
Bad luck Tuck! Now he had to stand with the aerial clutched between his teeth, looking like a rather tacky cat-shaped aerial you might find in a novelty television accessory store.
‘Oh, oh, oh!’ said Minnie, popping the reading glasses she was normally too vain to wear onto the end of her nose. ‘Sssh!!’
Tuck stared down at her and saw, reflected in her lenses, a long list of writing scrolling on the television screen.
‘Mmf,’ he said, the aerial clutched between his teeth.
‘Ssshhh!’ said Minnie. ‘I’m reading … oh, they’re up to ‘R’ already. Tiddles Ridell, Fluffy Rifferty, Felix Rimmington. Here it comes … wait … YES!!!!! OH MY COD!!! Oh, did you see, did you see?’
Tuck thought Minnie was talking to him, but he wasn’t completely sure. For one thing, there was no way she could expect him to have seen anything on the television screen very well. And, for another, she knew he couldn’t read. And for yet another on top of that, she was dancing around the room, with her glasses fallen to the floor, and leaves flying up into the air around her. Maybe she was having a nervous breakdance after all?
‘Whoopee!’ she was screaming. ‘Woohoo! Oh, Tucky, Tucky, I did it!’
‘Mmf,’ said Tuck, and he said it again and again until at last Minnie calmed down and told him he could drop the aerial now.
