The Misadventures of Two Very Clever Cats

About Pancakes, Monsters and Houses

My Brilliant Dad, Uddy

"Daddy, what are you doing?" I asked, my tail twitching with impatience. My Dad, ever the master of inconvenient timing, was bustling about the bamboo hedge just as we planned our stealthy escape before Mum awoke. He searched thoughtfully on the ground, eyes darting from side to side.

"Yes, yes, I’m coming, son!" he muttered distractedly. My call, louder this time, 'Dad!' echoed in the quiet morning, risking waking Mum. At last, he plucked a twig from the earth and hurried over.

"Why are you carrying a stick?" I quipped, unable to hide my amusement. My Dad was known for his eccentricities, and today, it seemed, he fancied himself a dog.

"Why are you carrying a stick?"

"It's not a stick, Freddy. Don't you see? It's a magic wand!"

"A magic wand? What's it for?"

"Freddy," Dad replied seriously, "a cat always needs a magic wand."

With that, we left the garden—for the day, we thought, without suspecting in the slightest that our journey would last much longer than that.

We trotted along the hedges, sometimes in the open, sometimes within the bushes, for safety. Some gardens had a bad reputation, like Mr. Avril's. This wicked man didn't hesitate to throw stones at cats.

"Vermin!" he would shout from his balcony as soon as he spotted one of us crossing his garden. "They're going to eat my birds again!"

What a fabler! Nobody had ever touched his birds. Besides, how could anyone touch them? They were caged on the fifth-floor balcony, poor things! One day, I'll climb up there and free those little darlings, letting them stretch their wings and fly wherever they wish.

There were also friendly gardens, like JP's, our neighbour. JP often came to our house, bringing flowers or a basket full of raspberries; he was secretly in love with Mum. But Mum had no idea; he shared his secret only with us by feeding us treats whenever we showed up in his little garden. I wonder why he never told Mum he loved her. I was once in love with Marinette, a pretty tabby, and I immediately confessed it to her. Mind you, she slapped me and never set foot in my garden again. I couldn't help but wonder if JP's love for Mum might end the same way.

Walking along JP's hedge that morning, we saw his open kitchen window, and a delicious smell wafted out. Dad stopped dead in his tracks.

"Freddy, JP has prepared breakfast for us!" It took us a second to get inside his kitchen. Dad meowed to say hello—we didn't want to come in like two thieves—but there was no reply. No matter! A plate of steaming pancakes awaited us on the table next to a milk bottle. What a sweet man he was; he had thought of everything.

Without hesitation, we jumped next to the plate, grabbed a pancake, and savoured it. They were delicious, full of good butter—unlike those at Mum's, with her fat phobia. Pfft, the good food doesn't make you fat! Just look at my Dad, a gourmand who is slim and never stops eating!

When we reached the last pancake, we hesitated—should we leave it for JP or take it with us on the trip? Dad was leaning towards caution—it could be a long journey, and we hadn't brought any provisions. I objected; I was sure the place we were looking for was nearby. I vaguely remembered that stormy night when Mum had stuffed me into her handbag and taken me home—it had only lasted a few minutes. The abandoned garden where I was born should be pretty close; there was no need to carry a snack. Besides, JP might want to taste his pancakes. But we didn't have time to decide, as a noise came from the bathroom—it was high time we ran away. Dad still managed to grab half of the remaining pancake before we jumped out of the window and disappeared into the bushes. However, I missed the milk—I would have been happy even with a few sips. But running away was the best solution, as JP might not have enjoyed getting only half a pancake.

Reinvigorated by our delicious breakfast, we set off at a brisk pace, Dad leading the way with long strides. I struggled to keep up; his paws were so long that I had to take ten for every step he took despite speeding.

Suddenly, a thought flashed through my mind—he didn’t know that place I wanted to reach, my birthplace: the abandoned garden. When I was little, it was my whole world, my paradise, where I had been happy with my mummy cat and my sister until the yellow monster arrived and forced us to flee, each of us in a different direction. After several days of wandering around, I returned in search of my little family. Still, all I could find was a massive hole in the middle of the place, beside which stood that horrible yellow monster. Mum always said monsters don't exist, but what did she know about monsters? She had never seen one. A monster arrives early in the morning while you're still asleep, its roar echoing for miles. It gets closer and closer, and then, without warning, it bursts into your garden, demolishes the fence, uproots the little fir tree sheltering your home, and relentlessly advances towards you. Cornered, you call for your mummy cat and your sister, only to realise you are utterly alone, facing the yellow demon. It opens its giant maw, poised to swallow you whole...

Hopefully, I could escape back then, and after several harrowing days of wandering, Mum found me on the pavement opposite my abandoned garden, starving and shivering under the rain.

Now, after so many years, I've decided to return to that place in hopes of finding my mummy cat. Perhaps she's still there, waiting at the gate for my sister and me. A few days after Mum rescued me, my mummy cat came to our new home late one evening. She was my entire world, and I desperately wanted to go with her. However, she rejected me with a slap and a scratch and fled alone.

 I never understood why my mummy cat didn't want me to follow her; had she stopped loving me? Mum always said it was for my good— my mummy cat knew I was much loved and well cared for in my new home. Yet, I had always wanted to ask her, just to be sure. But first, I had to find her.

Venturing back into the past takes immense courage, and I needed the support of my adoptive dad, Daddy Cat Uddy, to face it. That’s why we set off early that morning, Dad trembling with excitement at the prospect of a new adventure while I felt a twinge of apprehension. Would my mummy cat accept me this time, or would she slap and scratch me again?

Suddenly, I stopped. "Dad, wait!" I shouted. We had only been running for ten minutes—could it be that the place where I was born was so close to my home? I scanned for the yellow monster, but all I saw was a house in the garden across the fence. Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was in the right place.

"Freddy, this place isn’t exactly as you described it," said Dad, who had just caught up to me. "I don’t see any monsters or holes in the middle of the garden, nor is there the little fir tree that used to shelter your tiny home. Are you sure it’s here?"

"I think so; I have a feeling," I replied, feeling both unsure and certain because of the strong sense of déjà vu that enveloped me. I continued to search the garden with my eyes. Back then, there was a huge beech tree at the end corner where my sister and I used to nap on hot days; where was it now? Could the monster have destroyed it, too? How powerful it must be! I was right to be fearful of it; I’d tell Mum.

Dad, who had remained silent, suddenly had an idea. "Freddy, maybe the monster put some seeds in the hole you talked about, and they grew into a house. Look, it's yellow too. It’s like in our garden: when Mum plants seeds in a hole, they grow into a tree a few years later. Here, the seeds became a house."

"Yes, that’s how it must have happened!" I exclaimed. My dad was so clever! "So, could it be that my mummy cat is here?" my voice trembling with hope and fear, unsure of what I might discover.

"I don’t know, Freddy, she might be indeed; why don’t you call her?"

Another great idea from my dad. We started meowing together, our voices loud enough that any cat miles around would have heard us. However, this didn’t bring my mummy cat to us. A woman emerged from the house, running and waving a broom above her head. Ah, she wanted to clean the porch before we entered and asked us to wait for a moment!

"Lady, could you please open the gate? We need to search for my mummy cat in your garden," I asked politely, but Dad shouted, "Freddy, danger!" and darted towards the park. I had no choice but to follow him.

We crossed a small lawn and a road and were in the park in a few seconds.

"Phew, that was a close one," said Dad, catching his breath. I still didn't understand what exactly happened or why he didn't wait for the lady to open the gate for us.

But upon further reflection, it couldn't have been the right place. In my abandoned garden, if anything were to emerge from that massive hole the monster had dug, it should have been a magnificent, magical castle—not this ugly little yellow house. My birthplace surely deserved more than that.

To be continued.