The Adventures Of A Travelling Cat

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The Adventures Of A Travelling Cat - book excerpt

Bubbles Meets The Queen

Hello, I’m a cat, a very handsome ginger cat with some dark brown stripes down my side. I think my grandfather must have been a tiger.

My humans call me Bubbles, a name I hate because I’m a boy cat.

Of course Bubbles is not my proper cat name, but I can’t tell you what that is because you are not another cat, are you?

I lived with my humans David and Suzi in a nice house and my best friend was a very clever mouse called Matty. Matty and I played a game where I pretended to chase him around the garden and catch him and Matty often did tricks. It was such good fun and one day we decided to show the humans what fun it was, sure that they would enjoy it.

I carefully picked up Matty in my mouth and carried him though the cat-flap and into the front room where David and Suzi were watching television.

I dropped him gently on the carpet. ‘A mouse, a mouse!’ Suzi screamed excitedly, which seemed a bit obvious, and jumped up on her chair to get a better look.

Matty then began to do his tricks. He did forwards somersaults, backwards flips, he danced on his front legs, he danced on his back legs and finally balanced on the very tip of his tail and spun around like a top.

David then joined in the fun, pretending to chase us with a broom. Finally I picked up Matty and put him on Suzi’s chair. She screamed even louder in excitement as Matty ran up her leg and leapt off into the air. I jumped up and caught him in my mouth and put him down.

Suzi shouted, ‘Get them out of here, get them out of here!’ and David chased us with the broom and out into the garden.

‘I don’t think they liked that very much,’ said Matty.

‘Of course they did, look how excited Suzi was, shouting with excitement.’

‘No, Bubbles, Suzi obviously does not like mice and I’m certain she didn’t enjoy it one bit.’

‘Oh,’ I said, thinking Matty was right. I had heard that some humans don’t like mice, I don’t know why, mice are very cuddly. But not as cuddly as cats.

‘I think you’re in big, big trouble,’ said Matty.

He was right.

When I tried to get back into the house, the cat-flap was blocked.

I meowed and meowed but nobody let me in.

I was homeless and so went to join some other homeless cats and told them my story.

‘That’s outrageous,’ said Silas, an old tabby cat, ‘you should complain to somebody.’

‘Yes, you must,’ agreed Lily Lollipop, a pretty white Persian cat.

‘It’s a cat-astrophe’ joked Mingo, a black and white cat who thought he was a comedian.

‘But who?’ I asked, ’Who do I complain to?’

‘You should go and see the Queen, she rules the country, doesn’t she?’ Silas said.

‘Good idea,’ I said,’ but I don’t know where the Queen lives,’

‘She must live in London,’ Lily Lollipop said.

‘How do you know?’ asked Mingo.

‘I remember the nursery rhyme my Mummy sang to me when I was a kitten.

Pussy cat, pussy cat, where have you been.

I’ve been up to London to visit the Queen,

Pussy cat, pussy, what did you there,

I frightened a little mouse under her chair,

So, she must live in London.’

It was agreed and next morning I caught the bus to London. At the bus station I asked a black cat where the Queen lived.

‘Buckingham Palace, walk up this road and you’ll see the palace, big white building but be careful, the Queen doesn’t like cats. She’s got lots and lots of dogs and they’ll have you for breakfast.’

I reached the palace, slipped through the fence and ran across into an open door. I walked down long corridors, peering into the rooms, looking for a lady sitting on a big chair with a crown on her head.

I didn’t see any dogs but I could smell where they had been.

Then I saw very nice lady sitting at a desk and wondered if she knew where the Queen might be. I ran across the room and I jumped up onto the desk.

‘My goodness me,’ exclaimed the lady, ‘where on earth did you come from?’

I told her but she didn’t seem to understand cat language.

‘My, you are a handsome beast,’ she said and began to stroke me as I purred loudly. ‘I’m sure you’re hungry, would you care for some food?’ she asked, ringing a little bell and a man in a bright red and gold tunic came in.

‘Yes, Your Majesty,’ he said and I realised that this very nice lady was the Queen, herself.

‘Please go to the kitchens and bring some food for this lovely animal, I believe there should be some salmon and roast beef left over from last nights’ banquet.’

Talk about a feast fit for a Queen. It was delicious.

‘I think you enjoyed that,’ the Queen said and stroked me again. I tried to tell her why I was there, but she just nodded politely. I didn’t mind that she didn’t understand me.

‘I do wish I could keep you,’ she said, ‘I would call you Harry because you’re ginger, but my dogs would get so terribly jealous, I’m afraid, so off you go. So nice to have met you,’ and she picked me and put me down on the thick carpet and gently shooed me away. ‘I must get on with reading these papers,’ she said.

I walked back to the bus station and jumped onto first bus I saw. I don’t know where it was going but I was sure it was going to be another adventure. I had realised there was a whole wide world out there, far away from the confines of my home with David and Suzi.

I was going to become a travelling cat.

Bubbles In Paris

I jumped on the coach even though didn’t know where it was going, but I didn’t mind because I knew that I was going on another adventure.

My name is Bubbles and I am a travelling cat.

I’d had a long day and was very, very, tired, so I settled down to sleep as the coach drove off to wherever it was headed.

When I woke up it was dark, there was no-one on the coach and it was swaying violently up and down, up and down, swaying wildly from side to side, tossing me all over so that I kept on sliding off the seat. What was going on, was it an earthquake? Or an erupting volcano? I didn’t know but it seemed to last for hours and hours before the violent movements finally stopped.

By then however I needed a litter tray but of course there wasn’t one available so I had to use an old newspaper I found under a seat but when the driver and the passengers came back and found it, they chased me out.

But I was not worried. There were several other coaches nearby and so I jumped onto another one. It was then I realised that I had been on a ship, a ferry, and we must have crossed over the sea. But where to?

A kindly lady fed me some chicken from a sandwich and then picked me up and settled me onto her lap for the rest of the journey. Eventually the coach stopped and the driver shouted, ‘Ladies and gentlemen. Paris.’

So, there I was in Paris, France. I left the bus station and walked along the road and soon came to another large building. Deciding to go inside, I found that it was a train station with blue coloured trains busily pulling in and going out. I wandered around looking for something to eat, and then went up some stairs to a restaurant from which delicious smells were coming. I boldly walked inside, strolling around as if I owned the place but I had not got very far before a waiter picked me up and threw me outside, shouting ‘Stray cats are not allowed inside the famous Blue Train restaurant, who do you think you are, one of the Aristocats?’

Near to the train station was a wide river and so I walked along the riverbank for a while. I talked to some of the cats on the boats moored alongside– cat language is the same all over the world, you know -and one them, a tabby cat called Napoleon shared a nice piece of fish with me because I was still hungry.

It was a fine day and I really enjoyed that walk along the river taking in the sights. And then in the distance I saw the Eiffel Tower. I knew what it was because when I lived with my humans (before they threw me out of the house) I watched a programme about Paris on television with them.

I decided to go there, to go to the very top to see the view. There were a lot a people milling about when I got there but I found the entrance and ran up some stairs but then I had to get into a glass sided lift to go the rest of the way to the summit. The lift was very full of people and three times somebody trod on my tail.

Some people have no consideration.

At the top there were many people pushing to get to the railings and look out over Paris but eventually I manged the squeeze through and jump up onto the top of the railings. The view was magnificent. As I stood there on the railings, some more people rushed forward to see the view and accidentally pushed me in the back and then I was falling, falling down from the very top of the tower.

It was a very, very, long way down, 300 metres which is the same as 85 elephants standing one on top of each other. That poor elephant at the bottom of the pile would get quite squashed.

The ground was rushing towards me, the tower was rushing past me so I spread out my front and back legs as far as I could to slow me down and using my tail as a rudder I glided towards the open ground.

A pair of pigeons flew by. ‘Oh look’ said one. ‘a flying cat.’ ‘You watch,’ said the other, ‘There’ll be pigs flying next.’

The ground grew close, very close, then at the last minute I lowered my legs and landed on my feet. Bump!

We cats always land on our feet you know.

I sat down for a moment or two to get my breath back and then got up and walked away.

Where to go to next? Then I heard an elderly couple saying that they were going to take a taxi to Montmartre, ‘That’s where all the artists live’ said the old lady and so I decided to go with them and jumped into the taxi and sat down between them but they didn’t seemed to be at all surprised.

‘Thank you’ I said when we got there, but I don’t think they understood.

I walked around the streets and squares of Montmartre. There were lots and lots of cafes and restaurants with people sitting outside in the evening sun eating and drinking and as I walked around between the tables the diners would give me little pieces of meat or fish. So kind. Everywhere I looked artists had set up their easels and were painting pictures. of the scenery or of people posing for their portraits.

One of the artists saw me and said, ‘’Ah, Monsieur Pussy Cat’ - monsieur is French for mister – ‘such a handsome beast, may I paint you?’

Paint me? He wanted to paint me? What colour? Red? Blue? Pink? Then I realised that he meant to paint a picture of me, not cover me in paint.

Stupid cat.

OK, I agreed,

He painted me as I sat on a low stone wall with a big white church called the Sacré-Coeur in the background.

‘One day, Monsieur Pussy Cat’, he said when he had finished, ‘this portrait will be hanging in the Louvre art gallery and be as famous as the Mona Lisa’ which I gathered was a famous portrait of a lady. He then gave me a piece of very smelly sausage which I pretended to eat but spat it out when he wasn’t looking. A cat, even a travelling cat, has to have certain standards.

I wandered around for a bit longer and then strolled into a dark alley. Big, big, mistake.

Next to an overflowing dustbin stood five angry alley cats, staring at me. ‘Hello’ I said, trying to be friendly but they just hissed and snarled and then began to chase me.

I turned and ran as fast as I could, out into the streets and without looking ran all the way down a long, long, flight of stairs that went all the way from the top of the hill down to the bottom.

I turned around to look back up the stairs but the alley cats were nowhere to be seen.

Nevertheless, I decided, it was time to move on.

I walked into the Metro underground and following the signs, caught the trains which took me to the airport. Once there I got onto the first aeroplane that I came to. Where it was going I did not know but there was sure to be another adventure at the end of the flight. 

Bubbles Goes To Disneyworld

When I boarded that aeroplane in Paris I had no idea where it was going until the pilot announced, ‘Ladies and gentlemen, welcome on board this flight to Orlando, Florida.’

I was so excited, Orlando means Disneyworld. I had seen a holiday programme about Disneyworld on television and had always wanted to go there and see those giant mice, Mickey Mouse and Minnie Mouse. I wonder if they would be frightened of me because you see, I’m a cat, a travelling cat, and I have heard that mice are frightened of cats. I don’t know why, my best friend Matty was a mouse and he was never afraid of me.

Once the flight had taken off, I walked down to the front of the plane to look for some food. As I passed by her, a little girl grabbed hold of my tail but I hissed politely at her and she let me go. When I got to the little kitchen where the cabin crew were preparing the meals, I asked for something to eat.

‘My goodness,’ exclaimed one of the stewardesses, ‘We have a stowaway!’

‘And a very handsome stowaway,’ answered the other stewardess who then picked me up and carried me to the very front seat and sat me down. From then on I had first class service all the way, with lots of tasty chicken and smoked salmon, milk and chocolate cookies.

When we got to Orlando I caught the shuttle bus directly to the Magic Kingdom at Disneyworld. Almost as soon as I got there I saw Mickey and Minnie Mouse but they were not real mice, just men in costumes but that was still fun as they pretended to be afraid and ran away from me. Next I went to see Cinderella’s castle, but she wasn’t at home that day.

On the next day however, a big hurricane, called Hurricane Lily, struck Florida, a big swirling storm of high winds and I was swept up high into the sky. I was spinning round and around and around by the storm and carried far, far, away, flying through the air. I saw a cow flying past in the other direction, several trees, then a small house, a bus, and a blue tractor all sucked up like me into the skies by the hurricane.

At last the hurricane stopped and I fell back to the ground, landing as usual on my feet.

But where was I? Everywhere I looked as all I could see was tall yellow cornfields with the corn growing as high as an elephants eye.

‘I don’t think this is Florida anymore’ I said out loud.

‘No, this is Kansas’ answered a frightened voice.

‘Who’s there?’ I called.

‘It’s only me, please don’t hurt me.’ and to my surprise a very large lion pushed his way through the corn and stood in front of me, shaking with fear. ‘Don’t hurt me,’ he said again.

‘How can I hurt you?’ I answered, ‘you are a lion, the King of the Jungle, everybody should be frightened of you.’

‘I know but I’m the Cowardly Lion.’

‘The Cowardly Lion? Not the Cowardly Lion from the Wizard of Oz?’

‘No, no, that was my grandfather, but my father was also a cowardly lion and so now so am I, it runs in the family. I’m just a great big scaredy cat. I’m frightened of everything, butterflies, kittens, puppies, mice, creepy-crawlies, worms, I’m really scared of worms, and even my own shadow. I don’t like coming out in the sunshine in case my shadow bites. me. You won’t hurt me, will you?

‘No, of course not, my name is Bubbles and I’ll be your friend.’

‘Oh thank you, I’ve never had a friend before, I’ve always been too frightened.’

Together went for a walk but we had not gone far before we came to a crevasse, a split in the ground about 20 feet deep and 10 feet wide.