I am a black cat and my human calls me Tum Tum, which is not very flattering. Though the name suited me when I was a greedy kitten, I am now a sleek, elegant cat. My human is Shirley. She is quite good and generally feeds me well. She provides furniture for me to scratch, curtains to climb and comfortable chairs for sleeping.

She provided a cat door so I could go in and out whenever I wanted to. But now the cat door is permanently closed. She says the Council has made a by-law that cats must be under control at all times. What impertinence! But I have overcome that problem. My secret is that I can turn myself into a human. I have had this ability all my life, but being very content with my lifestyle, had not used this power before. Now I wait till Shirley is asleep, change into my alter ego, unlock the door, carefully lock it behind me, put the key under the mat, change back to a cat and go hunting. Nothing is more exciting than those illicit evening excursions, finding a tasty mouse or rat and - er - other small game. But the less said about those creatures the better. Let it suffice that I am a good mouser and therefore a benefit to mankind. After having a snack, I return to the house, become human long enough to let myself in, then as Tum Tum I jump onto Shirley's bed, sneak between the sheets and purring contentedly, fall asleep.

This happy state of affairs was disrupted when she introduced Shane to the house. He had called a few times to take her out but this time she invited him to dinner. I asked for a few treats while she was preparing the meal and my requests were generously granted. Well, this could be a good night, I thought.

He arrived twenty minutes late. Shirley was getting anxious, for she had timed things so they could have a drink before dinner was ready. They had their drinks then sat at the dinner table, which had been nicely set with two candles to show a soft light. I was fascinated by the candles, so jumped on to the table to have a closer look. Before Shirley could tell me to get off, Shane whacked me, yelling, "Get off, you stupid cat!" I leapt off, knocking the candles over and raced into the next room. They scrambled to prevent a fire breaking out.

Shirley said, "You shouldn't have hit her like that. She always gets off when I ask her too." This was not strictly true but I did usually get off if she slapped the table in front of me.

"It shouldn't have jumped up in the first place."

"She is not an it." Not entirely true. I have been spayed. "And her name is Tum Tum."

"It's the most spoilt cat I've ever come across."

Then followed more of the same until Shirley said, "Don't let's quarrel over her. Let's finish our dinner and enjoy our evening."

After dinner they sat watching TV. I thought it prudent to stay out of the way and merely watched them get closer together, cuddling and kissing till they finally went into the bedroom, where they got rather active.

When that activity subsided and I heard a few snores I went into the bedroom. I had decided I was not going out. I needed to know what was going on.

Shane was sleeping on my side of the bed, so I got in the other side. There was not much room. Shirley stirred and was soon sleepily caressing me. But I was restless on the wrong side of the bed and climbed over the bodies to the other side. There was plenty of room there. Shane was selfishly hogging the middle of the bed. I tried to settle down. It was difficult. It did not smell right. I tried to keep my distance and eventually fell into a restless sleep. Then Shane rolled over and flung his arm heavily over me. I instinctively scratched his arm and snarled. He awoke with a jerk, turned the light on, swore at me and tried to grab me, but I was already out of reach. "That bloody cat. Look what it's done to me."

Shirley, coming to my defence, said, "What did you do to her?"

"Bloody nothing. Either that cat goes or I do."

I held my breath. This was serious.

"Oh, stop making a fuss. Here, put a bandaid on it."

He grumbled, muttering, "It needs more than a bandaid."

Shirley gently put me out of the room and closed the door. I sat outside that door for the rest of the night, listening to what was going on.

At 5.30 I started meowing gently for my breakfast. This was earlier than I usually had it, but I had had no snack during the night. At first there was no response, so I let out a yowl that I had inherited from a Siamese ancestor.

"What the hell was that?" Shane's voice, of course.

"Oh dear, she rarely yowls like that. I'll see what's up." Shirley opened the door and I determinedly led her to the kitchen, where she opened a fresh tin and filled my bowl, saying sweet nothings as I ate. Then Shane spoilt things by coming in too. I stalked out of the room, my meal unfinished. "Oh dear, she's really taken a dislike to you."

But that did not stop her from bringing him home again that night. It was almost a repetition of the previous night, apart from the special dinner and I was banned from the bedroom completely. I started yowling at 5 a.m. Breakfast and a day of sleep to recuperate and plan for his removal.

They were going out that night. I intended going with them. When Shane opened the door I sneaked out with him. I could not have achieved that with Shirley. I then jumped into the back of his ute. They stopped at a pub where there was a special quiz night. I transformed myself into a woman. I was very nervous for I had never tried this in company before. I need not have worried. All heads turned to look at me. They had never seen anyone so beautiful - or so several men told me. I sat next to Shane, with Shirley on his other side. Knowing nothing of sporting heroes or any other heroes, I was not much help to our table, but I could answer some natural history questions. However my main exercise that evening was to entrance Shane and I succeeded brilliantly. He scarcely spoke to Shirley.

He asked me where I lived and I named the street which backs on to Shirley's. He said, "Great. Shirley and I can give you a lift home."

I accepted although Shirley looked thunderous. We all squeezed into the front of the ute with me in the middle. When we reached the address I had given Shane got out and helped me over the gears and out on the driver's side. I slid out against him and whispered, 'The back door will be open." He was excited.

I walked towards the back of the house and as soon as the ute started I became Tum Tum, jumped up on the fence and made for home. I hid behind a pot plant until the ute came down the driveway.

Shirley and Shane were quarrelling. "You made a fool of yourself over that tart."

"You're jealous."

Etc …

I was at the door. I meowed plaintively. "Tum Tum!" Turning to Shane; "You must have let her out."

"I didn't."

"Don't talk to me."

Turning to me, her voice mellowed. "You poor thing. Locked outside." She picked me up. "Poor darling." She unlocked the door and we went inside. Turning to Shane she said, "As for you, you'd better grab your things and get lost."

"With pleasure." He took his things, threw them into the ute and that was the last we saw of him. I did however hear the ute stop at the address in the next street and shortly afterwards heard much growling and screaming and fighting when he opened the back door which led into the laundry where a very large dog guarded the house.

I sighed contentedly, jumped onto the bed and waited for Shirley to finish her shower and join me.

 

 

The Snails' Revenge

This story had to start: Last Tuesday evening …
And end … I do not think I could live through that again.
It also had to contain the words 'July' and 'snail'

 

Last Tuesday evening it rained, which is not unusual for July. It rained heavily and steadily all night, only easing as dawn approached. The early morning news said that some areas were flooded. Brian groaned. He expected that some of the road on which he travelled would be under water. I was thankful that a meeting I was to attend had already been cancelled, so I did not have to go to town. Our house was not likely to be flooded, but last time it rained heavily water had found its way into the living room, so as soon as we rose we checked all the rooms. Dry as a bone, thankfully.

Brian went off to work and I checked the garden. The front looked fine but at the back snails covered the lawn. I have never seen so many. Big brown snails, all on the move.

I changed into heavier shoes and set out to crunch them underfoot. Stamp, stamp, stamp. It gave me pleasure to hear crunch, crunch, crunch. All of a sudden, my right foot went down a hole. I heard a crack and the rest of me followed till only my head and left arm were above ground. I screamed as pain shot up my leg and arm. When I was certain I was not going to fall further, I tried to extricate myself, but I found I could not move. I called out, but there was no one to hear me. My good neighbours were either at work or holidaying in Broome. No one to help me.

It was as though the snails had taken their revenge.

What a painful miserable time. It began to rain again. I heard the postman and called out, but apparently he did not hear me. Was that water round my feet? Yes. I panicked again but there was nothing I could do. I was barely conscious. I think I was unconscious for a while. When I came to, rain had stopped and it was colder.

There I remained until Brian arrived home from work. He had to ring Emergency Services to help to extricate me and get an ambulance to take me to hospital. And here I remain, being treated for exposure, multiple abrasions and bruising, sprains and a broken right arm

Apparently that hole had been an ancient septic tank from years ago before a large property had been subdivided. It finally collapsed after my energetic attempt to kill snails.

I shudder at the thought of all those snails. I do not think I could live through that again.

 

 

The Orange Veil

This story was to contain at least some of the following:
Eileen
Belly dancing
Thursday
16
monkey
orange and
chips

Eileen was listening to her belly dancing music, when her husband remarked, "That sounds like a band of gibbering monkeys."

"You don't have to listen. Haven't you got something to do in the shed?"

"Not at the moment. I'd like a bit of peace and quiet."

"It's peaceful in the garden."

"Peaceful! Can't you hear the builders across the road?"

Eileen sighed. The pounding was noisy and every now and then her front windows rattled. "I really do want to get this music fixed in my head. I'm supposed to do a routine to it on Thursday."

"I thought you danced as the feeling took you."

"To a certain extent, but I want to know when it speeds up and slows down and I want to be ready for a couple of shimmery bits where I want to do something special."

Barry grunted. He was not impressed with her dancing, but it kept her happy and, come to think of it, she was more flexible in bed. He reminisced for a while, sighed and decided there were a few things to be done in the shed.

After he left, Eileen concentrated on the music, trying out a few movements, swinging her hips and experimenting with her new orange veil. It had cost sixteen dollars and she was very pleased with it, but had not told Barry how much it cost. She swung it around and tried a few poses. Yes, it felt good. She was sure the other girls would be impressed.

Thursday was her special day. On that day she became Zaide, a mid-eastern dancer with colourful costume and jingling coins. Her companions were similarly arrayed. After preliminary exercises, they each in turn danced to their allotted music, with mixed results. Zaide was quite pleased with her performance. The other girls seemed to like it, except for Mata Hari who had criticised her orange veil. Not for the first time, Eileen wished that Matilda would leave the group.

Nevertheless, Eileen returned home elated and far too excited to cook, so Barry went off to buy fish and chips for tea.

 

 

Twenty Million

This story had to commence: Having so much money was …
and also had to contain the word 'giraffe'.

 

Having so much money was a shock. To learn that my Aunt Josephine had left me her whole estate which was reputed to amount to twenty million dollars, give or take a million or two, was too much for me to comprehend.

I am - was - a pensioner. I have modest tastes. Last year Frank, my husband, died after a short illness. We had a happy marriage, apart from the deaths of our two children in the Ash Wednesday bushfires.

I was born in Western Australia and, as a child, saw quite a lot of Aunt Josephine. She was always 'Aunt Josephine', never 'Auntie Jo'. She was Dad's sister and he pretended to be in awe of her. She did have an aura about her. Whether it came naturally or was acquired during her teaching career, I do not know. Certainly Dad did not have it. Anyway, she married well and never had any children. There were nephews and nieces on her husband's side and I met a few of them, but I gathered Uncle Ben did not get on with any of his relations.

In my early twenties, I went on a working holiday to Victoria and there I met Frank and became a Victorian. Mum and Dad came over for the wedding, bringing a Noritake dinner set as a present from Aunt Josephine and Uncle Ben. I still have most of it.

I only saw Aunt Josephine twice since I married. Frank and I never had much money for holidays, but when our boys were twelve and ten respectively, we drove across the Nullarbor during the Christmas holidays. Then after Uncle Ben died, Mum and Dad came for a holiday to Victoria with Aunt Josephine.

I kept in touch with her, but only at Christmas and birthdays, when I would send a card with a short note, but I suppose she heard more about my doings from Mum and Dad until they died.

Then the letter arrived from a Perth solicitor, advising my aunt had died and left the whole of her estate to me, and it would be in my interests to go to Perth to see him. I wondered if I could afford the air fare and accommodation, realised I could and in any event, if I ran out of money there must be enough in Aunt Josephine's estate to make it worthwhile.

So there I was, having seen the solicitor. Twenty million! I could not envisage it. I don't even know anyone who has one million. I decided I needed a long walk. Wandering around in the streets of South Perth, I came to the entrance to the Zoo and thought perhaps looking at the animals would bring me back to my senses. But I hardly noticed the animals. Twenty million! I came out of my daze in front of the giraffe enclosure. After a while I began to study their markings and tried to remember what I had read and seen about the Rothschild giraffes, how they were endangered, breeding programmes, etc. Perhaps some of the money could go to improve the lot of endangered animals. I began to see one could spend a lot of money. I had better not give it all away. Some of it would have to be invested to continue projects. Oh dear, I know nothing of investments. Shares and bonds are only words to me. Dad used to say investing in the stock market was just another form of gambling. Well, I would have to find a financial adviser, one I could trust.

Oh, Aunt Josephine, you have presented me with many problems!

 

 

After the Ball

This story had to fit two conditions ...
Cinderella's slipper fits one of the Ugly Sisters!
ALSO ...
The word 'and' is not to appear anywhere in this tale.

The prince was bored. Were there no beautiful girls in the kingdom? The king had told him he must marry. Many parties had been arranged over the past year, culminating in this splendid ball, but still he could not decide on a bride.

Suddenly his eyes alighted on a newcomer. Never had he seen anyone so lovely. He barely made excuses to his companions. Striding across the ballroom, he came to her side, murmuring, "May I have the pleasure of this dance?"

She nodded shyly, entranced by his handsome face. Together they took to the floor. The prince, having been taught by the best instructors in the land, was an excellent dancer, putting Cinderella at her ease. All she knew of dancing was watching her stepsisters with their dancing master. Whenever she could, she would try out the steps on her own. It was so easy when the prince led.

When the dance was over, the prince asked, "What's your name? I do not recall meeting you before."

Cinderella replied, 'My name is Cenerentola."

"Chen - what?"

"Cenerentola. It was my father's pet name for me."

The prince, who could not get his tongue around the name, said, "My name for you will be Angela, for you are an angel."

Cinderella blushed rosily.

They spent the evening dancing to the delightful music, much to the chagrin of every other female there, including the queen, who remarked to the king that it was bad manners for the prince to be dancing with one person for the whole evening. He said, "At least he is interested in the girl. I don't recall having seen her before." After a moment he added, "I must find out who she is."

He rose from his chair then started towards the young couple, who looked towards him as guests parted to let him through. Cinderella gasped as she glimpsed the clock behind him. Nearly midnight. She fled. The king stopped in his tracks. After a moment's astonishment, the prince raced after Cinderella, but was only in time to see her lose a slipper near the bottom of the stairs. Cinderella climbed into the coach which was waiting for her. The prince ran down the stairs, picked up the slipper, but could not reach the coach before it passed through the gates.

"Which way did the coach go?" The guards were unable to tell him.

"Carl!" The prince stopped. When the king spoke in that tone, you had to pay attention. "What is the meaning of this? Who was that girl who was so rude as to flee from the sight of her king?"

"She meant no disrespect sire, I'm sure."

"You're sure! She will not come to this palace again."

"I mean to marry her."

"Marry her!" the king exploded.

Then developed a right royal row, to the great interest of the guards, who tried to look as though they could not hear.

Finally the prince said, 'I beg your forgiveness, but I will marry her. I will search the kingdom till the find the girl whose foot fits this slipper."

"I suppose you must find her, but I will not have you traipsing round the country kneeling at the feet of every eligible female. Hans can do that for you."

So it came to pass a few weeks later that Hans arrived at the house of Baroness Weisshammer. He was thoroughly browned off with his task. Every eligible female had tried the tiny slipper. It fitted no one. The prince had said that when he picked up the slipper, it shimmered, but now it looked quite worn, even plain. If Hans had to try it on many more smelly feet, he would scream.

He was shown into the baroness's presence. She introduced him to her daughters. "Amalia." He bowed. "Anna." He bowed again.

"I understand there is a third daughter." He consulted his list. "Ella."

"Ah, my stepdaughter. You won't want to see her."

"I insist on seeing all the girls," he said, but thought to himself that if she was anything like the other two, he would rather not see her. This baroness annoyed him immensely. The more she annoyed him, the stiffer he became.

A servant was sent to find Cinderella. She was in the kitchen. Since the ball, she had spent many hours weeping. Her right foot was sore. When the coach had turned back into a pumpkin, she was many kilometres from home. She had twisted her foot on the stairs, the road home was very rough, she had cut her foot on the rough stones - Oh, it was all too much. She had arrived home just before dawn, two minutes before the baroness's coach arrived.

Now she hastily wiped her face before following the servant into the parlour. Hans saw a slight girl, red eyed, barefooted, limping badly, decidedly dowdy, with tangled hair. She dutifully tried the slipper on, but because her foot was swollen, it did not fit. Wondering what that was all about, she returned to the kitchen.

"My turn now," said Amalia.

"No, mine," said Anna.

"Girls," said the baroness. "Amalia next."

There was no way Amalia's foot would fit that dainty slipper. In a huff, she moved away as Anna tried the slipper.

It fitted perfectly.

Hans was flabbergasted. He thought the prince had better taste than to fall for such a plain girl. Amalia was flabbergasted too. To think that her younger sister would attain such a high position! After a stunned moment, Anna's mother said sweetly, "Oh my darling girl, congratulations." Turning to Hans, she said, "She is the perfect partner for our prince." She pictured herself at court advising her daughter.

"One moment," Hans said sharply. "We must be absolutely certain Anna is the girl we are seeking."

"I think I can prove that," said Anna, who was really much smarter than her mother, Amalia, or Cinderella, for that matter. "One moment please."

She had remarkably small feet for her general size. In fact, when she grew tired of her own shoes, she often passed them on to Cinderella. She went down to Cinderella's corner in the basement. There she found the matching slipper. She went back to the parlour in triumph, placing it next to its partner.

That settled the matter. Hans said he was instructed to take her to the palace immediately. When the baroness said she must chaperone her daughter, Hans told her that that would not be necessary for there was a maid in the coach who would perform that duty. So, after packing a bandbox with a few necessities, Anna was escorted to the palace.

On the journey, she had much to think of. It was obvious that somehow or other Cinderella had attended the ball. She pictured the ball, thinking of the prince dancing with his partner. Yes, it could have been Cinderella. But where would she have obtained those clothes? How had she looked so clean? Surely it would have taken hours to achieve. She wondered how she could convince the prince that she was the one he should marry. One thing was certain. She must not let Cinderella come to the palace - or her mother or sister for that matter.

The moment had come. She was to meet the royal family. Now she was escorted to the royal chambers. The footman announced, "Miss Anna Weisshammer." The prince turned round eagerly, but his jaw dropped at the sight of Anna.

"This is not the girl I met at the ball!"

"Nonsense," said the king. "She is the only one in the kingdom whose foot fitted that confounded slipper."

"But I cannot marry her."

"Yes, you can. What's more, you will. You cannot announce that you will marry the girl whose foot fits the slipper, then renege." He turned to Anna. "Do you want to marry my son?"

"Oh, yes."

"Then that's settled. I knew the baron. Nice fellow, but weak. Sorry to hear he died. Knew your mother before she married her first husband. A dragon of a woman then. Don't suppose she's changed. I won't have her anywhere near the palace. In fact it would be a good idea to banish her to Walsen. With the rest of your family, Anna. You must become part of our family now."

"Thank you, your majesty." Anna was relieved that she did not have to scheme to keep her relations at bay.

The next month was a busy one. The queen took it upon herself to instruct her in court etiquette; the lady's maid assigned to her guided her taste in clothes, cosmetics, hairdressing, deportment; Hans instructed her in the family's history, being impressed with the way she absorbed everything.

The prince was very formal, performing his usual duties in a daze, with an ache in his heart for Angela.

The baroness with her entourage was escorted to Walsen, never to return to the capital.

The wedding was a triumph. Anna, no beauty, but a decided improvement over the past month, looked regal beside her prince.

Over the years, Anna blossomed. There was no mother to argue with, no sister to fight, no Cinderella to boss around. Her temperament moderated. She became a diplomatic addition to the royal family. She became a confidante of the queen. The king liked her. The prince became accustomed to her, nearly forgetting his adored Angela. She bore the prince two sons. The kingdom prospered. Everything was satisfactory.

As for Cinderella, she was destined to be a drudge for the rest of her life. Bossed by the baroness, roughly treated by Amalia, she had no opportunity to improve her lot. She occasionally dreamt of the ball, dancing with that handsome man. She never even knew he was the prince.

Now, if you have a fairy godmother, remember to obey her instructions to the letter, or she cannot assist you again. However, I doubt that Cinderella would have succeeded as a princess. She was much too timid. Never would she have helped the kingdom to prosper. She would have been more likely to get down on her knees to help the chambermaid light the fire.

 

Kinkajou

I'm a kinkajou in the Schonbrunn Zoo
And I like to sleep all day.
But at night in the pale moonlight
I awake to feed and play.

At daybreak I sleepily make
My way to the fork of a tree
And shut my eyes against sunrise
And few catch sight of me.

Hanging by my tail in a zoological jail
Is really not much fun.
I'd rather be roaming free
On a Brazilian arboreal run.

Kinkajou 2 ….
likewise by Betty! And inspired by a cryptic crossword clue.

Don't call me a kinkajou.
I'm a potto through and through.
Though like me it is nocturnal,
You'll see from any wildlife journal
In Africa I was created.
A kinkajou is not related.
So go away and leave me be
Grimly clinging to my tree.

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