by Sam Hay
“Exactly!” said Pickle crossly. “Bad dog!”
Bonsai was lying in the grass, rolling on his back.
“Er … that’s a shame,” said Joe, bending down to tickle Bonsai’s tummy. Pickle, who was still huddled in his hood, hissed at the puppy. “I’m sure he doesn’t mean to be naughty. Maybe he just thinks everyone wants to play.”
Maya nodded. “I suppose so. I just wish he’d leave Pebbles alone. I don’t want the same thing to happen to her.”
Just then there was a shout from inside the house. “Maya – phone!”
“I’ve got to go,” she said. “Thanks again for your help.”
Joe nodded. Then she was gone.
Joe threw the ball for the puppy, then walked back out on to the street. He needed to get back before his parents started to wonder where he’d got to.
But Pickle had other ideas. She jumped down on to the pavement and darted round in front of Joe, blocking his path. “Where are you going?” she said. “You haven’t saved Pebbles from that bully yet.”
“I’m not sure there’s anything I can do, Pickle,” said Joe, stepping over her.
“What?” The cat thrashed her tail from side to side. “But you have to do something!”
“Pebbles just has to learn to stand up to him.”
“What?” Pickle howled. “How is she supposed to do that?”
Joe shrugged. The truth was, he had no idea.
“Maybe you could just go back and haunt Bonsai?” suggested Joe as they headed to the newsagent’s. They were going by the main road this time, rather than by Pickle’s route. “Every time he bothers Pebbles, you could just clobber him with a tin of paint or smash a glass chandelier or something!”
“That was an accident,” Pickle said. “And anyway, I don’t like dogs. And I don’t like noise. I just want to rest in peace.”
Joe sighed. “What we really need is a tough cat who can teach Bonsai a lesson.”
“What? How?”
“Well, that’s how Dad always tells me to deal with bullies. You know, stand up to them. Not that Bonsai’s a bully, really – he’s just young and playful. He doesn’t know any better. But a really tough cat could teach him a bit of cat respect.”
Pickle cocked her head to one side. “I know a cat like that,” she said. “Fang! He lives behind the bins at the back of the fish and chip shop.”
“An alley cat?”
Pickle nodded. “I met him one night when I was out exploring. We had a disagreement over a piece of fish. He thought it belonged to him,” said Pickle crossly. “But I found it first!”
Joe grinned. “Did you have a fight?”
“Certainly not! I … well, I ran away, actually.”
That sounded about right, thought Joe. Pickle wasn’t much of a fighter.
“I bet Fang could teach that cheeky pup some manners,” said Pickle.
“But even if he could, how would we get him here? It’s not as though I can just catnap him!”
“Why not?” Pickle said impatiently. “And, anyway, you wouldn’t need to catnap him. Stray cats will do anything for food and Fang has a huge appetite! You could just leave a trail of food from the bins back to Bonsai.”
Joe raised his eyebrows. “Like Hansel and Gretel and the trail of breadcrumbs? That’s ridiculous!”
But Pickle wouldn’t stop going on about Fang, and by the time they got to the shop, Joe had agreed to have a quick look down the alley beside the fish and chip shop.
“I’m going to get Dad’s newspaper first,” said Joe.
Inside the newsagent, he spotted a shelf of pet food. At the far end were a few bags of cat treats. Joe sighed. He’d probably need some of those if he was going in search of an alley cat!
“I was supposed to be using my pocket money to buy Mum a new sponge,” he grumbled as he picked up three bags and took them to the till along with Dad’s newspaper.
Luckily for Joe, the fish and chip shop was closed on Sunday mornings, so he was able to sneak down the side without anyone noticing. There were four black wheelie bins, jammed full of rotting rubbish from the takeaway.
Joe didn’t want to get too close.
“Maybe Fang’s not here,” he said, hopefully.
“Look properly,” yowled Pickle. “He’s probably round the back.”
“Urgh!” groaned Joe. “It stinks!”
The bins were overflowing with old cartons and tins, potato peelings, fish heads and greasy paper. Next to the bins were bottles stacked up in crates, surrounded by wasps and flies. Joe grimaced as fish bones crunched under his feet. “This place is foul!”
“I can’t smell a thing,” said Pickle.
That was probably because her own breath smelled so bad, Joe thought, but he didn’t say anything.
“I can’t see Fang,” said Joe, having a quick look behind the bins. But just then he heard a deep throaty growl from nearby.
“Under there!” hissed Pickle, running to hide behind Joe.
He got down on his hands and knees amongst the rubbish and peered underneath the bins. The stench was awful! At first he couldn’t see anything, but as he got used to the darkness, he spotted a pair of big green eyes glaring back at him. Fang?
“Here, puss…” said Joe, throwing a few cat treats towards the creature.
It gobbled them up like a vacuum cleaner, then growled for more.
“Come and get them, then,” said Joe, holding out a few treats in his hand. Maybe this idea wasn’t so bonkers after all! “Out you come.”
But just then, a familiar voice made Joe jump.
“What are you doing under there, Joe?”
He looked up.
It was Matt and his dad, carrying a newspaper, some bread rolls and a carton of milk.
“Urgh!” Matt wrinkled his nose. “It stinks round here!”
Joe grinned sheepishly. “Er … well…”
“I knew it was you,” said Matt. “I spotted you sneaking down here when we went in for the papers. Since when did you start rummaging in bins?”
Joe stood up and wiped a few fish bones off his knees. “You see…” he floundered, desperately trying to think of a good fib. “I, well…”
But just then a growling Fang suddenly shot out from under the bin!
Fang was probably the most gruesome-looking cat Joe had ever seen. He was a massive old ginger tom. A chunk was missing out of one ear and he had several battle scars on his face. His tail looked like it had been put through a mincing machine and the stump that remained was horribly chewed. But the scariest thing about him was the big pointy tooth that poked out of one side of his mouth, making him look like a piranha. Joe could see why Pickle hadn’t wanted to argue with him!
Fang stalked towards Joe, and Pickle immediately panicked. She raced up Joe’s leg and disappeared inside his hood again. Joe threw a handful of treats at Fang.
“I’m not sure it’s a good idea to feed stray cats, Joe,” said Matt’s dad.
“Ah well, you see, he’s not a stray,” stuttered Joe. “I think he’s my friend Maya’s lost cat.”
“Maya?” Matt looked puzzled. “Who’s she?”
“Er, she’s…” said Joe, thinking quickly. “Her dad works with my dad,” he fibbed. “We’ve known each other since we were little, but I don’t see her much.”
Matt grinned. “She’s not your secret girlfriend, is she?”
Joe’s face went red. “No! Of course not. It’s just … er … my dad told me she’d lost her cat, and when I was going into the newsagent’s, I thought I spotted it running down here, so I thought I’d take a look. Yup, that’s definitely her cat,” he said, looking at Fang, who was growling for more treats, his stumpy tail whipping back and forth impatiently.
“There you go, er, Pickle,” said Joe, scattering a few more treats on the ground.
“Pickle?” Matt’s dad chuckled. “He doesn’t look much like a ‘Pickle’ to me – ‘Killer’, maybe, or ‘Bruiser’, perhaps, but definitely not ‘Pickle’.
That’s a bit of a weedy name for such a monster!”
“What a cheek!” whined the real Pickle.
“Oh, he’s actually a real softy,” said Joe, gingerly reaching his hand out to stroke Fang’s head, willing the cat not to bite him. “Actually, I’m going to take him home to Maya now,” Joe said, scratching Fang behind the ear. Thankfully, he seemed to have taken a bit of a shine to Joe – most likely because of the treats – and so Joe scooped him up into his arms. He tried not to grimace. Fang was big and dirty and ponged almost as badly as Pickle.
Suddenly Matt had an idea. “Can we give Joe a lift to his friend’s house?” he asked his dad. “I mean, look at him – that cat weighs a ton!”
“No!” squealed Pickle, peeping out of Joe’s hood. “I hate cars!”
But it was true. Joe was already struggling to carry Fang. He was an enormous animal and weighed twice as much as a normal cat.
Matt’s dad shrugged. “I suppose so, but you’ll have to call your mum first, Joe, and check it’s OK.” He handed Joe his mobile.
“Dad,” Matt said. “Would it be all right for me to tag along with Joe?”
“What?” Joe gulped. A lift to Maya’s house was one thing, but he wasn’t so sure about having Matt with him. How would he get away with all his fibs!
“You see, Joe invited me round to his house later today, so it would probably be easier if I just went with him now.”
Joe had totally forgotten. He had said Matt could come round to his house to escape his young cousins. He looked at his friend’s desperate face and nodded. “That’s right, Mr Adams. I did invite Matt round today.”
Matt’s dad shrugged. “OK, fine, but call your mum first, Joe.”
He dialled home and his mum answered. “Hi, Mum,” he said. He wasn’t very good at telling fibs. “Er … I’m down at the newsagent’s and I’ve spotted my friend Maya’s cat – you know, the one who’s been missing for weeks…” He didn’t give her the chance to ask “Who’s Maya?” or “What cat?”
“Well, anyway, Matt and his dad are here, and they’ve offered to give me a lift to Maya’s house to drop her cat off, if that’s OK with you.”
Luckily, Mum sounded like she was in the middle of something. He could hear Sarah moaning in the background about the new paint on her bedroom walls being the wrong shade of purple. Mum was keen to get off the phone, and quickly agreed to the plan. They all got in to the car and set off, with Joe giving directions from the back seat.
Fang, however, was not an easy-going passenger. He didn’t like the car at all, and no number of treats would make him sit still. Pickle hated the car, too, and spent the entire journey sitting in Joe’s hood, yowling miserably.
“Cut it out!” whispered Joe. But Pickle just howled louder – the car was bringing back bad memories of her accident.
“He’s driving too fast!” she wailed. “It was a fast car that killed me! What if it happens again?”
“Don’t be ridiculous!” whispered Joe.
Meanwhile, Fang had had enough of the car, too. He was on the move.
“Hey!” yelled Matt’s dad as the alley cat clambered along the parcel shelf. “He’s blocking my view!”
Joe reached out to grab him, but Fang gave a grumpy growl and bared his teeth – they were big, yellow and very sharp-looking!
“Are you sure that’s your friend’s cat?” asked Matt as Fang dived on to the floor by Joe’s feet and sat there glowering up at them. “He doesn’t look … well … very friendly.”
“Yeah, er, I’m sure it’s him. At least, I think so,” Joe shrugged, scratching the back of his neck. It was probably Pickle’s fur tickling him. Either that or she’d given him fleas – nasty zombie fleas, probably! Or maybe Fang had fleas?
Eventually they turned into Maya’s street, just as Fang started attacking the upholstery in a desperate bid to claw his way out of the car.
“Which house is it, Joe?” asked Matt’s dad, anxiously watching Fang in his rear-view mirror.
“That one,” said Joe. “The one with the big tree.”
As soon as the car stopped, Joe opened his door with one hand and tried to grab Fang with the other. But the cat was far too quick – he shot past Joe and jumped up on to Maya’s garden wall, where he sat glaring at Joe. Fang had obviously decided that he and Joe weren’t friends after all.
Matt climbed out, too.
“See you later!” his dad shouted through the open car window as he drove off.
“Come on, Joe!” Pickle said impatiently. “What if Fang runs off? Go and ring the doorbell!”
But there was no need, because at that moment Pebbles came racing out of the cat flap, closely followed by Bonsai, who was panting and yapping wildly. He chased her across the garden, nipping at her heels.
“He’s going to catch her!” wailed Pickle, gripping Joe’s neck with her claws.
Moments later, the front door crashed open and Maya appeared, along with her little brother. They were arguing loudly.
“Get your dog away from my cat!” Maya was shouting.
“He just wants to play!” her brother yelled.
“Well, Pebbles doesn’t want to play with him!”
Meanwhile, Bonsai carried on chasing the terrified cat through the shrubbery, across the lawn and in and out of the bushes.
“Do something, Joe!” squealed Pickle.
Without thinking, Joe flung the rest of the cat treats over the wall, then gave Fang a shove in the same direction. He did it quite gently, but all the same, the alley cat was not amused.
“MEOW!” he growled, landing with a thud on the lawn.
“Over here, Bonsai!” yelled Joe, but the little dog had already spotted Fang and was hurtling towards the new cat as fast as his short legs would carry him.
Fang did not look impressed by Bonsai. Not one bit. He arched his back and hissed at the pup. Bonsai, however, was too young to spot the warning signs and continued charging towards the alley cat, panting and yapping, ready for a new game of chase. But unlike Pebbles, Fang didn’t budge. He didn’t run away. He stood his ground, his eyes glaring, his fur standing on end. His tail thrashed and he growled like a bear. Then Fang sprang at the puppy, his big tooth flashing in the sunlight raised his paw and swiped Bonsai across the nose!
Bonsai stopped and stared. For a second he didn’t seem to know what had happened. Then he gave a loud whimper and scuttled back to hide behind Maya’s little brother, Jay.
“He did it!” shrieked Pickle, jumping out of Joe’s hood on to the wall and purring for all she was worth. “He’s taught Bonsai a lesson!”
Just then, Maya spotted Joe and ran over. “You came back,” she said.
Joe blushed and Matt gave him a look.
“Did you see what just happened?” beamed Maya. “That big stray cat just cuffed Bonsai!”
“Er … yeah,” said Joe nervously, trying not to look at Matt.
“Stray cat?” asked Matt in a puzzled voice. “Isn’t he your cat, then?”
Maya laughed. “Of course not! That’s my cat.” She pointed to Pebbles, who was trotting cautiously over to Maya, still looking over her shoulder, as though she was expecting Bonsai to pounce on her at any moment.
“But Joe said that was your cat.” Matt pointed to Fang, who had finished the cat treats and was now licking himself. “Joe found him over at the chip shop. He said you’d lost him.”
“What?” Maya frowned. “My cat isn’t lost!”
They both looked at Joe.
Pickle gave a chuckle. “Oops! Someone’s in trouble now!”
Joe grinned awkwardly at Maya and Matt. “Well,” he said, his palms feeling a bit sweaty. “I … I thought you said you’d lost your cat – Pickle, wasn’t it?”
At the sound of her name, Pickle yowled.
Maya looked shocked. “What? You thought that old ginger cat was Pickle? But I told you, Pickle is dead.”
As she said the word, Pickle gave a sad sigh, and muttered. “I wish I was dead. Properl
y, I mean.”
Joe was blushing bright red. Trying to wriggle out of fibs was seriously tricky! “Oh, sorry,” he said, looking at the ground, “I must have heard you wrong.” He glanced over Maya’s shoulder, desperately searching for something to divert the attention from him. “Hey, look,” he said. “Pebbles actually seems to like that ginger cat!”
Pebbles and Fang were nose to nose. But not in a we-hate-each-other sort of a way. They were sniffing each other and purring.
Pickle shrugged. “She’s probably been a bit lonely without me.”
Maya bent down to give Fang and Pebbles a stroke. “Well, I’m glad you got a bit muddled, Joe. It was good to see a cat standing up to Bonsai for a change.”
“Yeah, but Bonsai is only little.” said Joe. “I don’t think he really want to hurt Pebbles, just play with her.”
“Humph!” Pickle turned her back on Joe. “Look what happened when he played with me!”
Maya nodded. “Mum says that, too. She’s booked him in for puppy training, so that might help. And now he knows cats have claws, maybe he won’t be so rough!”
Joe looked over. The pup had stopped whimpering and was standing staring at them from the other end of the garden, next to Jay.
“Can me and Matt stay and play with Bonsai for a bit?”
Maya smiled. “Sure. That would be great.” She turned to her brother. “Hey, Jay, bring Bonsai over here.”
The pup was reluctant. He definitely didn’t like walking past Fang, who was now sitting on the wall with Pebbles (and Pickle, though no one but Joe could see her!).
“Hello,” said Jay shyly.
“You’ve got a great dog,” said Joe, picking up Bonsai’s ball. “Come on, boy – fetch!” He threw the ball across the lawn.
