The Mostly True Story of Pudding Tat, Adventuring Cat by Caroline Adderson

Author:Caroline Adderson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction
Publisher: Groundwood Books Ltd
Published: 2019-03-04T14:57:22+00:00

* * *

And what about poor Pudding Tat?

Don’t worry. When the Oldsmobile passed Gian­carlo, the engine crank snagged the carpet bag and sent him spinning. The stain they’d glimpsed when the bag was opened was from his trampling in the Temple of Music, the gash on his back he’d been unable to reach with his tongue.

“Now what’s happening?” the flea harrumphed.

The unfamiliar put-putting of the Oldsmobile caught Pudding’s curious ear. The sounds of the city, too — carriage wheels on cobbles, clopping hooves, the singsong cries of newsboys. The clanking and grating of the work crews.

Eventually, he meowed.

When Vincent heard the cat, he thought he was imagining it. He reached over the seat for the bag and opened it in his lap.

There was Pudding, calicoed with dried blood, squirming in the light.

“He’s alive!” Vincent cried.

Blat-blat! Blat-blat! Blat-blat! Gus honked.

Vincent noticed the cat’s closed eyes and how he kept burying his head to get away from the light. He closed the bag again and didn’t open it until they were in his Greenwich Village apartment with the curtains drawn.

Now Pudding peeped out at a pleasantly dim room. He lifted his nose and sniffed.

Mice!

“What a dump!” the flea exclaimed.

Pudding crawled out of the bag and settled down for a wash just as Gus sat at Vincent’s piano and began tinkling out the tune he’d whistled earlier.

An ecstatic shiver ran through Pudding. He limped toward the piano.

Vincent scooped him up and set him on top. Then they got down to business, Gus on the music, Vincent spinning out the lyrics, both of them singing snatches.

Come away with me, Lucille,

in my merry Oldsmobile!

Down the road of life we’ll fly,

automobubbling, you and I!

Pudding perched there with his eyes closed and his white tail tucked around his feet, not just hearing the music but feeling it beneath him.

After an hour, Gus stood to stretch. As soon as the music stopped, Pudding leapt three-footedly down onto the keyboard. The sound of the notes smashing together so surprised him that he froze and listened until the vibrations died away.

Vincent and Gus watched to see what he would do next. Pudding reached out a paw and poked. A pure note sounded.

“He’s purring,” Vincent said.

When that note faded, Pudding poked out another.

“That’s it!” Gus cried.

He sat down again at the piano and, reaching between and around the cat’s white feet, he tinkled out the next bar.

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