Cat Who Came in From the Cold by Deric Longden

Author:Deric Longden [Longden, Deric]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Humorous, Biography & Autobiography, Fiction, General
ISBN: 9780552156196
Google: RGIc9tx_aPEC
Amazon: 0552156191
Publisher: Random House
Published: 2007-04-14T23:00:00+00:00

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Chapter Thirteen

I pushed open the door, very gently so as not to make a noise, and she was lying there, stretched out on the sunbed. She should have been wearing goggles, I suppose, the ultraviolet rays might hurt her eyes, but we only had one pair and Aileen was wearing those.

Unlike Aileen, who was stretched out naked beside her, Tigger had wisely decided to take it in stages and she still had her fur coat pulled tightly around her.

They were both fast asleep, but Tigger opened one eye and yawned as she heard the floorboards creak under the bedside rug.

“It's all right,” I whispered. “Don't wake up.”

I slipped my hand underneath her and stood her on her feet. She fell over, so I tried again, this time holding on to her and steadying her against Aileen's thigh.

“It won't take a minute.”

I dipped my spare hand into my trouser pocket, but the tape measure was in the other one and so I had to lean forward, bend sideways and cross my left hand over to my right-hand pocket and then, just as my fingers touched the tape measure, something went in my back and it didn't half hurt.

I let go of the cat and sank to my knees. Tigger fell over again and then the door swung open and Thermal marched in.

“What's going on? ”

“Shhh!”

“I haven't been in here before. ”

“Be quiet – you'll wake Aileen.”

He jumped on the bed and was surprised to see the other two stretched out under the canopy.

“Hello. ”

He stood both his front paws on Aileen's stomach and began pounding, as though he were kneading dough.

“She hasn't got any clothes on. ”

Aileen stirred, and her half-smile budded into a generous half-moon as he began his massage.

“Mmmm!”

My back eased off slightly and I dug the tape measure out of my pocket. Tigger watched Thermal with interest. For all she knew this was our regular Sunday afternoon routine and she might have to take over one day if he wasn't very well.

She moved in a little closer to study his technique in fine detail, and as she passed by me, I stopped her and took her inside leg measurement.

Three and a quarter inches? That couldn't be right. I tried again and it was. I had no idea she was such a low-slung cat. When she walked across a room it was as though her legs went right up to her nostrils, but then I saw that she had sunk up to her knees in the mattress.

I lifted her on to the bedside table and measured again. Ten and a half inches! That couldn't be right either.

“Stop stretching.”

Some cats are good stretchers. Thermal isn't – at his best he can manage a modest hump-back bridge. But Tigger is the most liquid of cats, and whenever she arches her back she becomes the perfect croquet hoop.

I waited until she came down again and measured once more. Five and a half inches. That seemed about right. I measured again and it had gone up an inch.

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