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Authors: Colin Dann

King of the Vagabonds

BOOK: King of the Vagabonds
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Contents

Cover

Title Page

Dedication

1 The New Kittens

2 Climbing

3 Learning

4 Exploring

5 Wondering

6 Searching

7 The Vagabonds

8 Brute

9 Exchanges

10 A Feast for a Morsel

11 New Ways

12 Quartermile Field

13 Beau

14 Sammy’s Choice

15 The Test Begins

16 Survival of the Fittest

17 The King Cat

About the Author

Copyright

For my brother Christopher, with affection

1

The New Kittens

It was quite a surprise for Mrs Lambert when her tortoiseshell cat Stella gave birth to a litter of six kittens, for Stella was far from being a young animal. She had recently taken to frequenting the shed at the bottom of the garden, but Mrs Lambert’s suspicions had not been aroused since Stella often slept in the shed during the summer when it was too hot in the garden. It was in the shed that Mrs Lambert found Stella and her six tiny kittens, comfortably nestling amongst some old rugs.

‘Well, Stella!’ cried her mistress in astonishment. ‘I thought your kittening days were long over.’ She did not know whether to be glad or sorry. However, there was no doubt about Stella’s feelings on the matter. She looked at Mrs Lambert with a blissful expression and purred proudly, feeling the fluffy little creatures pressed tight against her.

The kittens appeared to be either tortoiseshells like their mother, or tabbies, which gave a clue to the other half of their parentage. They looked delightful, so tiny and helpless, huddling in their mother’s warmth. A shaft of sunlight slanted through the open doorway, lighting up the scene, and Stella blinked contentedly as she looked at her mistress. Mrs Lambert did not dare to disturb them to have a closer look and really she could not think of another cat in the neighbourhood who might be
the father. She hurried off to fetch some clean bedding and some light nourishment for Stella. Drowsily Stella licked her kittens. She felt snug and lazy. ‘Keep close, keep close,’ she purred.

Mrs Lambert lived alone except for Stella and another pet, an old mongrel bitch called Molly who looked something like a Labrador, but had a longer coat. Mr Lambert had died a few years earlier. In the past he had dealt with the disposal of Stella’s litters of kittens and so now his widow was faced with something of a problem – she knew that, when these latest ones grew bigger, she would not be able to afford to feed them all. An idea occurred to her.

A neighbour’s boy sometimes came to do the heavier gardening jobs which Mrs Lambert could no longer manage. She was elderly and not very strong and so was very grateful for his help. She thought it would be a nice gesture to offer the boy first choice of the kittens to keep for himself. And there was always the chance that one or two of his schoolfriends might like a pet as well.

After a couple of weeks the kittens’ eyes had opened, they moved around a little, though very unsteadily, and mewed a good deal. It soon became clear that some of them were more attractive than others. One of the tabbies, in particular, was really unattractive. He had a strange broad diagonal stripe running across his head that made his face look as if it had been somehow crossed out. Mrs Lambert had no hopes of his being chosen by anyone.

Next time the boy came to do some digging, Mrs Lambert took him to the shed. The kittens by then were four weeks old.

‘Look, Edward, what do you think of them?’ Mrs Lambert asked him.

Edward was entranced. He loved animals and spent a long time watching the kittens’ antics.

‘Would you like one?’ offered the old lady.

The boy’s eyes shone. ‘Yes, please, Mrs Lambert. I’d love one!’ he replied, without hesitation.

Mrs Lambert told him that as soon as the kittens could do without their mother, he could come and choose one to take home and, later, he could bring his friends if they were interested. He promised he would ask around at school and was obviously delighted with the whole arrangement.

Poor Stella was very tired and seemed at times a little bewildered by the situation that had developed. The kittens’ demands were exhausting her, despite the extra nourishment her mistress was now providing. Mrs Lambert was relieved when the time at last arrived for Edward to make his selection. She told him that the tortoiseshells were all female and the tabbies all male and left him alone with them. He took quite a while to decide but, in the end, plumped for a tortoiseshell because, as he said, ‘I’d like mine to have some kittens one day.’

About a week afterwards he brought three of his friends along. They all declared they wanted males but, when they saw how ugly one of the three tabby kittens was, it seemed that the only way out was for one child to have a female. There was a bit of difficulty but eventually everything was sorted out quite amicably and they all went away as pleased as Punch with their new pets. So Mrs Lambert was left with the ugly tabby and one tortoiseshell. She had already made up her mind to keep one kitten and, since she did not have the heart to dispose of the tabby in any unpleasant way, she was content to keep him as well. She called him Sammy and his sister Josephine.

Stella soon recovered her strength and began to show her remaining youngsters around her mistress’s garden and cottage to familiarize them with their immediate surroundings.
The old bitch Molly showed a great interest in the little animals and they were soon fast friends and all playing together.

Sammy and Josephine loved to chase each other up and down the garden and they teased their mother and Molly unmercifully, pouncing on them from behind plants and seizing hold of their tails. The older animals were very tolerant of their games, but the kittens soon learnt just how far they could go with Stella. She was prepared to put up with just so much biting from sharp little teeth and no more.

The kittens grew quickly and Mrs Lambert noticed that Sammy was inclined to be more adventurous and inquisitive than his sister. It was not long before he had climbed the fence round her garden, though he was not confident enough yet to venture outside it.

The kittens loved Mrs Lambert, and she was very kind to them. She allowed them into the cottage whenever they wished, though they still looked upon the shed as their real home. They would follow her tall, grey-haired, rather bony figure from room to room. Indeed she had to be careful: she had rather an awkward gait, brought on by years of rheumatism, and they would sometimes get right under her feet. She was afraid of treading on them, especially Sammy who was the more lively and energetic of the two.

Both the kittens soon learned to answer to their own names, and also to understand when their mistress was calling Stella or Molly instead. Their mother was always reminding them of how fortunate they all were.

‘We’re very lucky,’ she would say. ‘We have such a kind mistress who looks after us all so well.’

They became accustomed to hearing such phrases and so an awareness formed in their minds of the little family of which they were a part and they felt very comfortable.

Every morning Mrs Lambert let Molly out into the garden. The dog would waddle straight over to the shed, wagging her tail feebly as she went, to see if the kittens were there. If they were missing she would begin a search of the garden which usually resulted in her being pounced on from some corner unexpectedly. The gentle old animal would yelp in delight and, as the kittens raced off again, she would make vain attempts to catch them. Mrs Lambert chuckled a lot at these games.

Eventually the youngsters would quieten down. Josephine returned to her mother whilst Sammy would rub himself round Molly, his little tail stuck up straight in the air as he purred out his friendship.

Molly’s first remark was always the same. ‘How you grow! You’ll soon be as big as your mother.’

One day Sammy answered, ‘Perhaps I’ll be bigger–like my father.’ He had started to dream about his father since he had learnt there was such a creature. He imagined him to be strong and clever although, of course, he had never seen him and knew next to nothing about him. Stella had told him very little.

Molly, who had been around for a long time, had a shrewd suspicion who was the father of the kittens.

‘Yes, you may grow to be like your father,’ she said. ‘But his sort of life is not for you. How lucky
you
are to have a proper home.’

Sammy knew he was lucky because Stella was always telling him so. But Molly’s remarks only made him more curious about his father.

2

BOOK: King of the Vagabonds
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