An Open and Shut Case

It was lovely to jog down the road inside Tallest's jacket. He could both hear and feel the measured thuds of Tallest's heartbeat, slow and steady and sure. And he could smell Tallest's unique, reassuring smell. Dribbler looked about him with interest. He made no attempt to jump down on account of the fact that Tallest's fingers were hooked securely through his collar. Besides, he knew that he had come - or been brought - this way before. But for what purpose? It was frustrating, sometimes, to have such a shallow reservoir of memory.

At length, they came to a road, which Tall crossed. They carried on down the hill, Dribbler's eyes alight with curiosity. When they came to another, busier road, Tall tightened his hold on Dribbler's collar. Dribbler's purr was a subdued rumble. It ceased altogether at the sight of the long, low building with green shutters. He had been here before. Indignities had been practiced on his person and he had borne them with feline stoicism. But, as recompense, there had been hundreds of interesting smells; layer upon layer of them. A whole roomful of animal smells and animal history. A cat could get quite an education in a place like this.

Once inside, Dribbler snuffled his way around the waiting room, his nose a fraction of a milli-metre above the scrubbed, tiled floor. So many scents, so little time! Tallest was talking to a man about a guinea-pig and seemed a little distracted. Dribbler occupied himself in 'reading' the floor and looking about him. Three sides of the room were lined with chairs, several of which were occupied by humans, or smaller animals, or both. A few of the human animals had cages or boxes balanced on their laps, and a large lady in purple held the leash of an equally large dog. It crouched at her feet, tongue lolling.

"Been here long?" said Dribbler.

"Long enough" replied the dog. "What you in for?" His tone was gruff.

"I beg your pardon?" said Dribbler, taking a step back. The dog's breath was fetid.

"I'm up for grievous bodily harm" confided the dog, lowering a bushy eyebrow. "Wiv intent", it added, giving Dribbler a significant look.

Dribbler took another step back. "Goodness me. Well I never. Look at the time, I think I'd better be going", he said, the words tumbling over one another like a line of dominos.

"If anyone asks, you ain't seen me", said the dog, now addressing his comments towards Dribbler's retreating bottom.

"Leave the cat alone, there's a good dog" said the large lady in purple.

Dribbler hopped onto Tallest's lap and permitted himself to be stroked. He was uncharacteristically quiet and thoughtful.

Just then, a man in a white coat came out of the door opposite and the big dog padded in, followed by the large lady in purple. The door closed behind them with a click.

Dribbler, who had quickly tired of thinking, was once again looking about him.

"Ngrrw?" he said in a gentle tone of enquiry to a tiny, grey kitten, its head enclosed inside a cone the size and shape of a small lampshade. The kitten spat back at him.

How rude! thought Dribbler.

He jumped onto the floor and was busily investigating a small, sticky patch under one of the waiting room chairs, when he became aware of a quiet voice somewhere slightly above and to the right of him. Someone - or something - was trying to get his attention. Dribbler paused mid-sniff.

This had better be good, he muttered, backing out from beneath the chair, and bidding a reluctant farewell to the interesting, sticky patch. It wasn't long before he identified the source of the voice. It was stood up on its back legs, small hands gripping the bars of its cage. Its expression was disapproving.

Dribbler paused to rub his cheek against a likely looking trouser leg, before addressing himself to the creature in the cage. It had glossy, brown fur and a neat white collar.

"We are here today" intoned the rat, "to bear witness to the misdemeanors of one "Dribbler," former proprietor of the All You Can Eat Feline Restaurant and Grill. Are you, or are you not, that cat?"

Dribbler, who was full of guile in the ordinary sense but not particularly clever with words, nodded. His tongue felt glued to the roof of his mouth.

The rat opened its mouth to speak further but, before it could say anything, its cage was jerked by a large meaty hand, the word "love" inscribed across the knuckles in indigo-blue. Rat, cage and all rose into the air and swung away, disappearing through the mysterious blue door. Dribbler goggled. He was still goggling when Tallest bent down, scooped him up and placed him squarely in his lap.

"Stay there, and don't move."

Dribbler licked his lips, and eyed the elderly, African parrot on the chair next to Tallest. It was at least as tall as Dribbler and it watched him beadily from between the bars of its cage. Dribbler felt himself wilt beneath its stare.

"Been a naughty boy, have we?" it said, turning away and having a good rummage through its dusty, grey feathers.

"I don't know what you mean!" squeaked Dribbler, keeping a firm grip on his tail in case it should somehow end up on the floor of the cage.

The parrot cocked its head. "Are you sure about that? Are you quite, quite sure?"

Dribbler hummed and hawed. "Well, I did steal a sausage this morning. And yesterday I beheaded a mouse. But it was already dead when I found it."

The parrot nodded. "So you admit that you did maliciously and wilfully commit murder."

"Yes," said Dribbler. "That is to say… I mean, no!"

The parrot coughed.

"No, your honour," amended Dribbler. Suddenly, he felt in need of a jolly good wash.

"And are there any other crimes that you would like to be taken into consideration?"

Dribbler thought for a moment. It was odd to be explaining himself to a bird. "I broke my cat-door, your honour. I head-butted it, and it snapped."

"The defendant admits to breaking his cat-flap," quoth the parrot.

"Cat door" insisted Dribbler, who privately felt that "cat-flap" lacked a certain gravitas. "It's called a cat door." And, as if to demonstrate, he stretched out a paw and tapped the parrot's cage on its own little hinged door.

"Contempt of court!" shrieked the parrot.

Dribbler turned his head, and gave his human a beseeching look. But it was only after prinking his human's thigh with a delicate claw, that Tallest deigned to come out from behind his newspaper.

"Leave the poor bird alone" he admonished, with a stern look. Dribbler scowled. There would be no help from that quarter.

The parrot cleared its throat, and Dribbler hung his head as he waited for the verdict to be announced. He fully expected to be taken down.

Just then, the door to the other room opened, and the alsation pranced out, accompanied by the large lady in purple. At the same time, the parrot cage rose into the air and swung from side to side. After a few seconds, it too vanished into the next room.

Dribbler stared.

"Are you all right, old son?" boomed a familiar voice somewhere over his head. Dribbler felt a tickling sensation under his chin. By jove, but that felt good!

Dribbler looked up at Tallest. "I was up before the beak," he said, his whiskers tilting up in the feline equivalent of a smirk. "But I think I got away with it."

Tallest stood up and, as if on cue, the blue door opened. In they went, together.

~ End ~

back to stories