A Cat Called Dog by Jem Vanston

Author:Jem Vanston
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Troubador Publishing Ltd

Chapter 14

After his early morning patrol – a lengthy inspection of the garden and outlying territories (no problems to report, thank goodness!) – George returned home just as Dog was waking up.

‘Good morning, kitten-cat,’ he said, with an avuncular miaow.

‘I think I… errr… overslept,’ said Dog, yawning, ‘Sorry.’

‘Not to worry, kitten-cat, not to worry. Never ever apologise for sleeping. It is just not done. Apologising for such things is for working dogs and other imbeciles. We are above it.’

‘Sorry… errr… I mean… I’m not sorry… I mean… yes, George,’ said Dog, not sure what he meant.

‘It’s good that you are well-rested, kitten – we have an awful lot to get through today.’

Dog started his wash, just as George had shown him: paws, face, ears, chest, back, tail, tummy, bottom.

‘Well done, kitten-cat. Splendid!’ miaowed George, before turning to squint at the Spring sunshine. He took a deep fresh breath of the bright morning air.

‘I instinctively feel that today is going to be the most marvellous and beautiful day,’ he said.

On days such as this, George often woke The Lady with his enthusiastic singing. He was just about to go into the house to give his performance, when he heard a terrible noise.

It was a voice – the voice of The Man – and it was coming from the kitchen – his kitchen, where he went to get fed! He had assumed that The Lady had come home alone the day before – not with that Man two-legs again – but, oh how wrong he was!

His heart sank in his chest like a sack of drowning kittens as he realised that there would be no singing performance required that morning.

George peeped out from behind the shed to look through the kitchen window. There he was – The Man, the thief, the enemy – rushing to do something, knocking something over. This was a good sign, though – it meant that he was in a hurry and would leave soon. But his very presence there in the first place meant that he had stayed the night with The Lady.

How could she? thought George. How could she? With him!!!

There was only one rational explanation: The Man had brainwashed The Lady so much that she was now completely under his control and no longer in charge of her own mind. It happened sometimes with two-legs, most often when they were suffering from the thing they called ‘love’, a terrible affliction which makes them take complete leave of their senses.

Love, for two-legs, was like a very strong dose of catnip, but worse – much worse. It could last for many moons and summers too, though it usually disappeared as quickly and unexpectedly as it arrived, (a bit like diarrhoea or a bad case of wind), at which point things could happily return to normal.

But George, if pushed, had to admit he knew all about love too – about how, when a two-legs loves you and you love them, as it was between George and The Lady,

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