But when I opened the door Tilly was layed in her bed but there was no sign at all of Charlie. I wasn’t too worried at first, because I thought he may have gone behind the dryer or the washing machine, as he often did that at times. I called him a couple of times but there was no reply. Charlie often gave a squeal and a meow and came out when I called him, but this time he didn’t.
It was then when I began to get worried. I began to look for him and checked all around the scullery.
“Where's Charlie Tilly?”
Tilly raised her head from the bed when her name was called.
I then looked behind the washing machine and the dryer but there was no sign of him. I looked in the cupboard where my mum keeps all the washing powder and fabric softener, but again there was no sign.
I looked under the scullery sink and even looked in the washing bucket, thinking that he may have jumped in there overnight and for some reason couldn’t get out.
But he wasn’t in there either.
After about five minutes of searching I was getting very upset, because I could not find him. I went upstairs to tell my mum and dad.
“Mum, Dad, Charlie's not there!”
My dad woke up first.
“What's up Amy?”
“I can't find Charlie. He's not in the scullery, I've looked for him but can't find him!”
“Have you looked everywhere?”
“Yes Dad but he's nowhere to be found!”
“Have you looked everywhere else down stairs?”
“No Dad.”
I said nothing more but went down the stairs to search everywhere else. I called Charlie's name as I searched but there was no customary meow from him. After looking everywhere downstairs I ran back upstairs to my parent’s room.
By now my mum was awake.
“Mum Charlie's gone. I can't find him anywhere. Dad told me to go down stairs and search the rest of the house but there's no sign of him!”
“Have you tried calling him?”
“Yes Mum but there's always no reply!”
“How about looking upstairs?”
“Ok mum!”
I ran off again to look in my room and in the spare bedroom but no luck at all.
After a few minutes I went back into my mum and dads room, by this time they were out of bed. Dad had put his jeans and tea shirt on and mum was in her pyjamas and dressing gown.
“Amy me and dad are going to help you find him!”
My mum and dad were good to their word and helped me search the whole house again to see if he could be trapped somewhere.
But there was still no sign of him.
“Could he have been locked outside?” My mum asked. “I'm sure I heard a cat meowing last night when I was in bed!”
“So did I love,” dad pitched in.
By this time I feared the worst that Charlie did go outside.
“Hang on a minute,” my dad piped up. “I remember now!”
Arthur picks up the story again.
Ten hours earlier, Amy had put Charlie in his cat bed as normal. She helped make him comfortable and went off to bed herself. About an hour or so later Calamity and me decided to go to bed. But before we did, I decided to take some rubbish out to the bin.
But to get to the bin I had to go through the scullery and open the door. I took out the rubbish placing it in the bin. But I did not notice Charlie get out of his bed and climb over the threshold. I did not notice either him slip between the bin and the side of the house.
I replaced the bin lid and went back in to the house closing the door behind me, leaving Charlie outside still crouching behind the bin. I locked the scullery door but never noticed that Charlie was not in his bed. I then shut the scullery door which led to the kitchen presuming that Tilly and Charlie were in there. I locked the front door, set the alarm and turned off the lights. Calamity had already taken herself off to bed.
THE WORLD CAN BE A SCARY PLACE TO A YOUNG KITTEN.
The Ghost Writer takes it from here.
Charlie was now all alone. He was still crouching behind the wheelie bin. He was way, way outside his comfort zone.
He has not done outside before. Infact the only bit of the outside world he had experienced was being carried in the cat box. This was on his journey from his mum to the Pleb's. And for all his tiny life he had spent most of it indoors. The poor little chap had not even had his jabs yet, which were supposed to protect him from harmful infections and diseases.
So what to do now? Charlie started to whine a little feeling all alone. But he soon stopped as he heard a noise. It was Marmalade, Stephi’s cat from across the lane. He was 10 years old and he was a huge black cat with a white spot on his nose. He saw Charlie crouching behind the bin and put his head between the bin and the wall, as if to investigate the new kid on the block.
Charlie did the classic kitten stance which is what cats do whenever danger looms. And this was to turn sideways, his fur stood on end, his tail looked like a fox's brush and he almost doubled in size. He gave a hiss and spat at Marmalade, who just hissed back. He must have thought that Charlie wasn’t that much of a threat. And maybe thought, I poo bigger than that! Then Marmalade turned and went about his nightly business, leaving the enlarged Charlie behind.
Charlie slowly reduced to his normal size, his instincts telling him, he could go from red alert to amber.
But not of course to green, because he was still outside on his own some. There was no Amy to pick him up in her arms and carry him to safety. Poor Amy god bless her, was safely tucked up in bed, fast asleep. She would be horrified if she knew where Charlie was and of course Mr and Mrs Pleb, secure in the knowledge that all the occupants of Pleb household are sleeping soundly. Sadly poor little Charlie would have little sleep this night.
It took Charlie almost half an hour to venture out from behind the bin. But venture out he did into the big wide world of Amy's large back garden.
He stepped from the behind the bin and made a jump onto the door step. His leap failed and fell back on to the paving stones.
But he tried again and this time succeeded. He was now sat on the sill but his entrance to the house was blocked by the solid wooden door to the scullery. There was no cat flap, but even if there were, he would have been too small to climb through it.
As he sat there on the sill he gave a little whine, as if to say help me, I'm locked out. His cries became louder and louder but no one in the cottage heard him.
After about two minutes his cries stopped and he jumped from the sill. By this time Charlie was feeling a little bit more confidant, almost cocky if you like. He felt quite big and grown up. He decided to make his time outside an adventure rather than an ordeal. It wasn’t cold outside, it was still summer.
Charlie then decided to wander around a bit more. He went on to the patio at the back of the house. He went on the grass sniffing around and taking in all the different scents and smells.
Just as he was sniffing around, Charlie heard a rustling in the bushes at the edge of the garden. He looked up and saw a creature crossing the lawn. It was much larger than Marmalade. It had four legs, long ears, a large body and a long snout.
It also had a large tail. Charlie froze as it walked passed him. The animal did not so much as notice him, lucky for Charlie that the animal did not see him, as it was a fox. It moved across the garden and through the bushes and into the Bloom Cottage garden. Charlie began to move again as the creature moved out of sight.
Charlie moved around the garden sniffing and inspecting everything he came across. Sniffing at plants and jumping on to plant pots.
Despite being locked out, Charlie was having a cracker jack of a time on his own. It was as if he had been given a free pass, that is to access all areas and this is what he proposed to do. He was going to sample and savour every moment. As he sniffed and smelt his way around the garden, it was full of familiar and unfamiliar smells.
H
e noticed two particular smells around the apple tree.
This was the place where Amy and Tilly spent a good deal of time. He had only been with the Pleb's for a week but he could already recognise the smell of his owner and the other feline in the household.
Charlie continued to explore the large expanse of the garden. He made his way into the shrubbery at the side of the garden, where the fox had sprung from about half an hour ago. As he sniffed and smelt his way around the shrubbery, he heard a loud rustling from the shrubbery. And suddenly he was stood in front of a large creature. Charlie stood sideways on, his fur and tail got larger again.
He hissed and spat at the creature, which was none other than Crispin. He was Burt Lord's dog, the landlord of the Tin Whistle. Crispin was a larger than average German shepherd. He was by canine standards huge. Burt must not have known he was out. Crispin never left the pub at night. He like Charlie was another soldier absent without leave.
Crispin snarled at Charlie bearing his teeth at the little fellow. But Charlie stood his ground, with his fur fully extended and his heckles up.
Suddenly Crispin went for Charlie. His huge mass came hurtling towards him. But he turned and ran.
Crispin gave chase, luckily Charlie ran down the side of the Pleb's garage, where there was a huge pile of fire wood.
Charlie dived into the pile and hid out of sight. Crispin could not give chase as he was too large a creature to get where Charlie was anyway. Just then Crispin saw the fox come back from Bloom Cottage.
They saw each other and the fox took off with Crispin chasing after it. They ran off to the front of the Pleb's house, across the lane and into pastor’s field. Crispin was barking as he ran after the fox.
Arthur suddenly woke up after hearing the dog bark.
Calamity woke up too saying “What's that?”
“It's Crispin, I’d know that bark anywhere!”
“What’s he doing at this time of night?”
“Don't know, but Burt mustn’t know he's out!”
The barking started to decrease with Crispin running further off into the distance. Calamity went back to sleep followed closely by Arthur.
As the fox and Crispin sped off into the field, quiet came over the garden again.
But although Charlie had managed to get into a safe hiding place in the pile of wood, his moving around in the pile had caused some of the pieces of wood to dislodge trapping Charlie there.
He gave out a whine and a meow but neither Amy nor her parents could hear anything as they were all fast asleep.
After about ten minutes Charlie stopped crying and could do nothing more but crouch there were he was. It began to rain and some water drops landed on his head and nose. This felt very unpleasant to Charlie, so he moved further into the pile where the drops could not touch him.
At least he was able to stay dry, though his back was a little wet. But he managed to lay down on a flat piece of wood and eventually went to sleep. But he kept waking up as the wood pile would often creak or he would hear a noise from outside like the screeching of an animal, or a gust of wind. Infact poor Charlie got very little sleep at all. And occasionally he would cry out or meow in the hope that someone would hear him.
And until that time he could do nothing but lay there and wait. And wait he did.
A few hours past by and the dawn began to break. Birds began to sing and tweet.
The Pleb’s cottage was next to the Fogan River with a large mass of woods next to it. Birds of all shapes and sizes lived there. Birds from Sparrows to crows and magpies, Ducks, mallards and geese that lived on the river quacked, gobbled and squarked in the morning light.
The Pleb's garden and surrounding area was full of bird song. Blackbird’s song filled the air, with other birds joining in. Wood pigeons coed and whooped in the woods and a single cuckoo made an appearance in the morning orchestra.
Charlie who had dozed off was awoken again by the beautiful but deafening sound. The dawn chorus went on for about half an hour or so. The Pleb's of course slept through this, as this sound was nothing new to them.
Eventually the singing stopped and Charlie went off to sleep again.
Amy picks up the threads from now on.
After my Dad had told of how he thought Charlie may have been locked out last night, we went outside to search for him.
My mum searched the house again and me and my Dad looked outside. I began to shout Charlie's name over and over.
“Char Lee Char Lee!”
But there was not a sound. We looked all around the garden, in the flower beds and hedgerows. I even looked up in the Apple tree which was full of blossom, in the hope that he may have somehow climbed up there through the night.
But there was no sign of him.
I kept on calling him but still no reply to my calls. My dad called his name too.
We eventually came to the garage, still calling Charlie's name.
Suddenly I heard a small meow.
“Dad can you hear that?”
“No love what?”
“I heard him meow Dad!”
“Did ya love?”
Just then came another one.
“Dad did you hear that?”
“Yes Amy I did!”
“Where's it coming from Dad?”
“It sounds to be coming from the far side of the garage!”
I went to have a look, but all I could see was a big pile of wood.
I called his name twice and out from the pile came another meow.
“Charlie!”
Out came another meow.
“He's here Dad, in this big pile of wood!”
My Dad hurried over and saying nothing bent over and started moving some of the pieces of wood, making a small pile beside him. The Meowing got louder.
“Can you see him Dad?”
“Not yet Amy but he's definitely in there, go and get ya mum and ask her to bring a towel to wrap him in, I can imagine he'll be very cold and wet when we get him out of there.
I ran to get mum and she came outside carrying a small hand towel.
By the time we got back to where dad was he had already moved a few more pieces from the pile.
“Can you see him Arthur?”
“Yes love I can just see a bit of his tail!”
“Can you get him Dad?”
“No not yet Amy, I've got a couple more pieces to move!”
He moved a few more pieces, placing them on the pile.
“There Amy I think I can get him now!”
Charlie's meowing got louder. My dad reached into the hole he had just made in the pile, with his right hand, grabbed Charlie by his neck fur, but Charlie appeared to be not very happy about this and began to hiss and spit. Charlie was obviously very scared at this point and was trying to defend himself. But my dad managed to pull him out. He looked a little wet and the fur on his back was matted but otherwise he appeared to be un harmed by his time stuck in the wood pile.
My mum came with the towel and dad placed him in the open towel and mum wrapped him up in it.
She took him quickly inside. I quickly followed, leaving my dad replacing the pieces of wood he had taken from the pile.
When we got him inside my mum dried Charlie off and we gave him some kitten food. He ate every scrap of food in his dish. We placed him on the couch in the lounge, as a special treat. He slept there for hours.
He was still asleep when I came back from my performing arts academy. But surprisingly Charlie appeared to be none the worse for his Ordeal. All he needed was food, rest and all my love. And as we all know the world and my back garden can be a very scary place for a kitten.
CHAPTER NINE
Amy Pleb and her final disaster, of one disastrous week.
I had been home just ten minutes after my session at the Performing arts academy. I was sat on the sofa with Charlie. I had just had my lunch. My Mum was in the kitchen clearing away after lunch and my dad was outs
ide cleaning the windows. He had just cleaned the downstairs windows and was preparing to do the ones upstairs.
He got the ladder from the garage and brought it to the lounge window, where he extended it and rested it against the wall of the house. I could see all this from my seat in the lounge.
My dad didn’t go straight up the ladder but came to the front door carrying his bucket. I guessed he was coming into the house, to get a fresh bucket of water.
My guess was right and moments later he returned from the kitchen with a full bucket of water.
My dad said “Hi Amy,” as he passed the lounge.
“Hi Dad.”
He passed by and I heard him walk down the hall and go out though the front door, which thudded behind him.
A moment or too later I saw him appear outside. He began to climb the ladder carrying the full bucket with him.
He disappeared up the ladder, until only his feet were visible, which were sticking out of one of the rungs of the ladder.
I could hear the vibration as his sponge touched the upstairs window. About two minutes later I noticed him move his right foot from the rung and thought that he would just put his foot on the lower rung. But instead he missed his footing altogether and immediately fell from the ladder, with the bucket falling to the ground after him.
I quickly got up and ran to the window, shouting “Mum, Mum come quick!”
As I got to the window I could see my dad, in a crumpled heap on the garden path. He was swearing like no bodies business. So I thought that he must be ok.
My mum came running into the lounge.
“What’s up Amy?”
“It’s dad he's fallen off the ladder!”
We quickly ran outside to help him.
“Arthur, are you ok?”
My dad was sat on his bottom on the path holding his right ankle.
I ran to him and gave him a huge hug around his neck, shouting “Dad, are you ok?”
“Ha think I have sprained mi ankle love!”
My mum is a trained nurse and she lifted his trouser leg and had a good look.
“Oh Arthur love that looks nasty, I think you might have broken it!”
“Will I be able to play basketball again?”
“You don't play basketball!” My mum replied to him jokily.
My dad had a big painful grin on his face and then I knew he was going to be ok. But despite this he had to go to hospital but he refused to have mum call an ambulance.