He looked as though he were taking as
good a look at me as I was at him.
I carefully picked him up and sat him in the palm of my hand and brought him close to my face. He snuffled and wriggled a bit and then sat staring back at me.
‘What are you thinking, little guy?’ I whispered. ‘I bet you could tell me a thing or two about Mr Smythe for starters. He’s one weird cookie.’
Mr Nibbles put his head on one side and chomped his chubby little cheek pouches.
‘I bet you think he’s totally freakoid too, dontcha?’ I crooned.
I imagined the hamster saying, ‘You bet! He’s a one-hundred-per-cent fruitcake with cherries on the top.’
I stroked him gently and let him scurry up and down my sleeve for a while, and then sighing, said, ‘I guess I ought to put you back while I get you some food. Are you hungry?’
Mr Nibbles sat back on his haunches again and tipped his little head on one side, examining me quizzically. I laughed and went to put him back in the cage.
That’s when I panicked. I had forgotten to close the cage properly while I was playing with Mr Nibbles. And now, even after I’d rummaged through all the sawdust, there was no sign of
Houdini.
Suddenly his name made a whole lot of sense.
The escapologist had escapologized – well and truly escaped. Va nished. Gone. Va moosh.
I slammed the cage shut on Mr Nibbles and then dropped to my hands and knees.
He can’t have gone far, I thought, frantically scanning the floor. M aybe if I stay really, really quiet I’ll hear him scrabbling around somewhere.
I closed my eyes and held my breath, all the better to concentrate . . .
Scuttle, scuttle.
There! I saw something move under the floor-length curtains that framed the French windows.
I crept as slowly and quietly as I could towards the noise and gingerly lifted the edge of the curtain. Nothing. I must have imagined it.
Then I heard another scuffle from behind me this time. I spun round on my knees and came face to face with—
‘Kaboodle!’
The kitten looked at me sheepishly and mumbled something unintelligible. T hat’s when I noticed something in his mouth.
‘Eeeek! Houdini!’ I yelled. I made a grab for Kaboodle and caught him round the middle.
He whipped round and tried to nip me on the wrist, and in so doing, dropped the hamster he’d been carrying in his jaws. The poor little thing lay where he had landed, his huge shiny black
eyes blinking rapidly. Thank goodness he was still alive.
I held on tightly to the kitten and hissed at him, ‘I’m going to put you down – in a minute. Do exactly as I say or, boy, will you live to regret it.’
Kaboodle flattened his ears and gave the beginnings of a snarl, but quickly thought better of it and spat back, ‘Don’t get stressy.’
If Jazz wasn’t alive and well and living just around the corner, I would have said that Kaboodle was the reincarnation of my stroppy best mate.
‘Now, stay there.’ I set the kitten down behind me very, very slowly, and then turned my full attention to the stunned hamster I picked him up as gently as I could and opened the
cage again, then I lowered him in next to Mr Nibbles, who had been watching the whole procedure from the hamster wheel.
I closed the cage softly and let out the breath I’d been holding.
‘You,’ I said to Kaboodle menacingly, ‘are in so much trouble, I cannot even
begin
to tell you how much.’
The little kitten made a big show of not listening to me, licking a front paw and slowly wiping it over one ear. Then he looked at me, all golden wide-eyed innocence, and said,
‘What?’
‘What do you mean,“what?”?’ I growled, trying not to shout in case it upset poor Houdini any further. ‘I catch you in the act of stealing a hamster with intent to
murder and munch it, and all you can say is “
what?
”’
Kaboodle gave the cat equivalent of a shrug, twitching his head to one side and licking his shoulder. ‘All’s fair in lunch and war,’ he
good a look at me as I was at him.
I carefully picked him up and sat him in the palm of my hand and brought him close to my face. He snuffled and wriggled a bit and then sat staring back at me.
‘What are you thinking, little guy?’ I whispered. ‘I bet you could tell me a thing or two about Mr Smythe for starters. He’s one weird cookie.’
Mr Nibbles put his head on one side and chomped his chubby little cheek pouches.
‘I bet you think he’s totally freakoid too, dontcha?’ I crooned.
I imagined the hamster saying, ‘You bet! He’s a one-hundred-per-cent fruitcake with cherries on the top.’
I stroked him gently and let him scurry up and down my sleeve for a while, and then sighing, said, ‘I guess I ought to put you back while I get you some food. Are you hungry?’
Mr Nibbles sat back on his haunches again and tipped his little head on one side, examining me quizzically. I laughed and went to put him back in the cage.
That’s when I panicked. I had forgotten to close the cage properly while I was playing with Mr Nibbles. And now, even after I’d rummaged through all the sawdust, there was no sign of
Houdini.
Suddenly his name made a whole lot of sense.
The escapologist had escapologized – well and truly escaped. Va nished. Gone. Va moosh.
I slammed the cage shut on Mr Nibbles and then dropped to my hands and knees.
He can’t have gone far, I thought, frantically scanning the floor. M aybe if I stay really, really quiet I’ll hear him scrabbling around somewhere.
I closed my eyes and held my breath, all the better to concentrate . . .
Scuttle, scuttle.
There! I saw something move under the floor-length curtains that framed the French windows.
I crept as slowly and quietly as I could towards the noise and gingerly lifted the edge of the curtain. Nothing. I must have imagined it.
Then I heard another scuffle from behind me this time. I spun round on my knees and came face to face with—
‘Kaboodle!’
The kitten looked at me sheepishly and mumbled something unintelligible. T hat’s when I noticed something in his mouth.
‘Eeeek! Houdini!’ I yelled. I made a grab for Kaboodle and caught him round the middle.
He whipped round and tried to nip me on the wrist, and in so doing, dropped the hamster he’d been carrying in his jaws. The poor little thing lay where he had landed, his huge shiny black
eyes blinking rapidly. Thank goodness he was still alive.
I held on tightly to the kitten and hissed at him, ‘I’m going to put you down – in a minute. Do exactly as I say or, boy, will you live to regret it.’
Kaboodle flattened his ears and gave the beginnings of a snarl, but quickly thought better of it and spat back, ‘Don’t get stressy.’
If Jazz wasn’t alive and well and living just around the corner, I would have said that Kaboodle was the reincarnation of my stroppy best mate.
‘Now, stay there.’ I set the kitten down behind me very, very slowly, and then turned my full attention to the stunned hamster I picked him up as gently as I could and opened the
cage again, then I lowered him in next to Mr Nibbles, who had been watching the whole procedure from the hamster wheel.
I closed the cage softly and let out the breath I’d been holding.
‘You,’ I said to Kaboodle menacingly, ‘are in so much trouble, I cannot even
begin
to tell you how much.’
The little kitten made a big show of not listening to me, licking a front paw and slowly wiping it over one ear. Then he looked at me, all golden wide-eyed innocence, and said,
‘What?’
‘What do you mean,“what?”?’ I growled, trying not to shout in case it upset poor Houdini any further. ‘I catch you in the act of stealing a hamster with intent to
murder and munch it, and all you can say is “
what?
”’
Kaboodle gave the cat equivalent of a shrug, twitching his head to one side and licking his shoulder. ‘All’s fair in lunch and war,’ he
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