Post by DavidMc on Oct 15, 2008 15:37:43 GMT -6
Tails From Longtoes Hall
At the edge of a wood,
By a bubbling brook
The ancient seat of
Longtoes stood…
And to all who read
This feline tale
So lovingly catalogued
Meow
Once Upon a Time……
Dawn was breaking over the beautiful English County of Cheshire, and a faint mist hung over the Longtoes river valley, and although to the casual observer it seemed like a perfect picture of rural England, something was missing. Deep inside the wood there was an eary silence, no birds could be heard singing, and the sound of small mammals was noticeable by its absence.
Very strange one might think.
But this was no ordinary valley, for as you followed Longtoes brook from the edge of the wood, after a very short time you would arrive at a very unusual dwelling. Longtoes Hall. Home of Lord and Lady Longtoes, seventh descendent of the Alderley Edge chapter of Royal Tabby Cats.
The Alderley edge chapter held the honour of being the oldest in England, and also the largest, as it contained two other Royal Halls; Scratchpole and Tabley, but the Hall of Longtoes considered itself to be the finest of them all.
For the sake of completion the other English Chapters are: Winchester; Stratford Upon Avon; and Alnwick.
To be considered a Royal Tabby, a Cat has to fulfil very strict criteria. Firstly he or She has to be born within a five mile radius of any of the Royal residences. Secondly be completely Tabby - although patches of white on the paws and chin are acceptable - and NEVER to have lived in the company of Humans. Royal Tabbies are also distinguishable by their tails as when they are fully upright they curl into the shape of a question mark.
Now just as the sun began to rise, two feline shapes could be seen leaving the woods and heading in the direction of the Hall. These two characters were Mr Greenpaws, the estate gardener, and Mr Sharpclaws, the hall Butler and Lord Longtoes, personal assistant. They had spent the last two hours crouched low in a ditch hoping to catch something tasty for breakfast. But truthfully neither of them were particularly good hunters, so had decided to call off their vigil, return to the Hall and curl up beside the fire for a couple of hours.
Lord Longtoes holds a barbecue.
The Hall had been a hive of activity all morning. Squirrels could be seen rushing back and forth towing large bundles of small twigs in their wake. Every year, on midsummer’s day Lord Longtoes held a barbecue. It had been a family tradition for generations, and one that his Lordship was happy to continue, as it involved lots of eating, drinking and general merry activity. What more could a Cat want?
In the Hall Kitchen you could just about make out the outline of Mrs Swishtails’ whiskers, behind a tower of pots and pans. She had been hard at work all morning, preparing food for the barbecue. When Mrs Swishtail was cooking it was best to leave her alone. The Kitchen was her domain, and woe-betide any cat that crossed its threshold. Just as she had finished shaping yet another Mouse Burger, Mrs Swishtail´s whiskers twitched, sensing another presence. Turning She was horrified to see Clawed dabbing his paw into a bowl of her sauce, then slowly licking it off.
“Clawed. Get your filthy paw out of my sauce.” As Mrs Swishtail roared this command, her tail began to swish, slowly at first, then faster and faster. Mrs Swishtail had an awesome tail; so awesome in fact, it had been known to split logs! And now its swishing might was drawing closer and closer to a terrified Clawed. With a mighty howl and a leap of super-feline effort, Clawed launched himself into the air and out of the Kitchen window just as the lethal tail crashed into the sauce bowl he had been so enjoying a moment earlier, shattering it into a thousand pieces and plastering the floor and walls with Rat sauce.
Meanwhile back at the Hall his Lordship had a problem. He was unable to to locate Colonel Furkin. It was a tradition of the midsummer barbecue, that the senior Tom Cats of the household served the food from the barbecue, so that meant himself, and the Colonel. Glancing up from that weeks edition of the ‘Tabby Times’ he spotted Mr Sharpclaws polishing a set of skewers.
“Sharpclaws. Have you had sight of the Colonel?”
Mr Sharpclaws looked up. “Yes m´lord I saw him about an hour ago going into the woods with ‘Whiskers’.”
Drat! The fur on his Lordship’s back began to bristle. This could only spell trouble. He knew that Whiskers kept a ´still´ in the woods, and was also aware of the Colonels ´weakness` for the odd drop of firewater….
Lord Longtoes padded across to his butler. “Sharpclaws, come with me we have no time to waste.”
There is only one thing worse than the sight of a drunken Tom Cat, and that is the sight of two drunken Tom Cats attempting to cook on a barbecue. But that was the sight that greeted the felines assembled on the lawn of Longtoes Hall that midsummer afternoon, as amid much tutting and Cheshire Cat grinning Lord Longtoes and Colonel Furkin with increasingly un-Cat like co-ordination attempted to grill Sausages and Mouse Burgers, most of which ended up on the lawn. The assembled gathering grew animated with increasing howls of laughter at the pantomime they were witnessing. The assembly hadn’t witnessed such wild entertainment for years..
Then suddenly the crowd grew silent, as Lady Longtoes, followed by her daughter Tabitha Stripedears, Mrs swishtail and Mrs Furworthy the housekeeper cut a swathe through the howling crowd.
Stopping directly before her mate, Lady Longtoes roared, her fur bristling with indignation. “Lionel you are a disgrace to the Longtoes crest.” Then turning to face the Colonel with a look that would kill a mouse at forty yards “and you.. I always thought that you were common and uncouth…”
But before her ladyship was able to complete her sentence, the Colonel belched loudly and fell to the ground. Turning to look around Lady Longtoes was mortified to see the `scratchpoles´ sniggering behind their paws.
That Morning after feeling..
Colonel Furkin was Lord Longtoes First cousin and best friend. As a gift to his old friend, his Lordship had granted the Colonel use of the Hall lodge for life, as a reward for his efforts during the ´Tabbyban´ war. Although small, the lodge suited the Colonel perfectly. He lived a simple life and his needs were easily satisfied. He also lived a disciplined life for the most part, but was prone to one major character flaw…. which surfaced at the most inappropriate moments…
A liking for intoxicating substances.
The Colonel clasped a trembling paw to his throbbing head and hissed. For one terrible moment he thought he was back in the thick of battle, as flashes exploded inside his skull. Slowly however, grim reality began to surface. He remembered being at the barbecue cooking sausages then the feel of her Ladyships hot fiery breath…. The Colonel’s whiskers drooped at the memory. Receiving a tongue lashing from her ladyship was not a wise move, as they had never been on the best of terms. Her Ladyship thought him ‘crude and beastly,’ and his performance at the barbecue would only strengthen her dislike.
“Oh well” he sighed “no use crying over spilt milk.”
Damn that Whiskers and his still. He was always up to mischief, hanging around the woods with his pal Clawed; they got up to all manner of trouble. The Colonel mused on the nature of Whiskers; he was one of only two members of the household who knew Whiskers’ true lineage, but he would end up like Tyson Big paws if he wasn’t careful.
The Colonel staggered to his feet and sprayed around his bed, a habit he had acquired out in the field in order to ward off wild animals, and one if her Ladyship knew about would make him even more unpopular, then he scratched behind his ear with his back leg
“No use daydreaming, there’s work to be done” he told himself sternly. Fish to be caught, Rats to be trapped. If it weren’t for him the place would starve. They were a lazy bunch of rascals up at the Hall, lying in front of the fire all day preening themselves.
“Crude and beastly hey” the Colonel growled “just remember madam, it’s crude and beastly that puts food in your bowl.
Meanwhile back at the Hall, Lord Longtoes wished he had never woken up at all, for as he slyly opened one eye he heard an all too familiar voice screech out.
“You can’t fool me I know you’re awake!”
His Lordship rolled himself into a ball covering his eyes with his tail, a most undignified pose for one so high bred, but at that precise moment dignity came a poor second to survival. He had seen Leonora roused before, and fur was about to fly.
HIS.
“Lionel How could you? And in front of the Scratchpoles, I will never be able to show my face again.”
The Scratchpoles were a sore point. As the oldest established ‘Royal’ family of the county, they considered themselves ‘Top Cats’ and were in the habit of looking down on their neighbours, the ‘Tableys’ and the ‘Longtoes’’ as felines of an inferior standing.
“and those two furry freeloaders Whiskers and Clawed.” She continued “I don’t understand why you have them around, It’s not as though they’re relatives or anything.”
At that moment if it were possible, his Lordship’s fur would have turned white.
Oh how close to the truth you are my dear. If only you knew.
The Tale of Tabley Angelfur.
Tabley Angelfur was reclining in a hammock in the Hall Garden reciting love poems to Tabitha Stripedears, who was perched on a branch above his head.
Your Whiskers are like threads of gold,
Shimmering in the halo of your beauty.
How can my green unworthy eyes
Behold such treasure?
“Oh Tabley how beautiful!!” exclaimed Tabitha. Clapping her paws.
Tabitha Stripedears queen of tabbies,
Born to rule the house of Longtoes,
May all your foes catch rabies
Or be condemned to eternal Cat Shows!
“Tabley, you are so funny and talented.” Tabitha was purring so loudly the leaves were falling off the branches.
Yes Tabley thought smugly to himself. I AM TALENTED. Poet, Musician, Linguist, Painter…. A real Renaissance Cat!
But it hadn’t always been like that. Born Felix Tabley, the first son of Lord Tabley, he had not turned into the strong willed domineering Tom Cat his Father had hoped for, indeed he had acquired the nickname ‘mousy’ because of his unusually high pitched meow.
It had been a lonely Kitten hood, shunned by the other Kittens, as nobody would play with him, he had passed his days in a world of make believe, playing in the woods alone. Very early on he discovered he had a gift for learning languages. He had picked up Squirrel in just over a week, and went on to become fluent in both Bat and Weasel before he was twelve months old. He also discovered something very odd about himself. He had no desire whatsoever to hunt and kill the smaller Animals. In fact the very notion repelled him, for they had become his friends; so instead of hunting them he wrote Poems about them and painted there portraits. But this ideal world he had created for himself only proved a brief respite from the bullying of the older Cats. There was one Cat in particular, a big Ginger Tom from the Village who went by the name of Tyson Bigpaws who became Felix’s’ nemesis. Bigpaws would sneak up a tree at the edge of the wood and lie in wait on one of the lower branches for Felix to pass, then he would launch himself with a howl and a hiss onto the poor Kittens back as he passed. Felix would hobble home, his coat scratched and dishevelled only to receive a tongue lashing from his Father for being so timid and weak.
Then one day Felix heard that Tyson had been killed by a bacon slicer whilst attempting to rob a butchers shop in the village. While trying to reach a particularly succulent string of sausages, Tyson had over balanced falling onto the bacon slicer and accidentally pushing the power button with his tail….
Felix had shuddered at the image, but it proved to be a turning point in his story, for the very next day Felix left Tabley Hall and set out on an adventure that would last a whole year.
He travelled far and wide throughout the County using his language skills to great effect, and he never went short of food or a place to lay his head. Finally after one year he returned to Tabley Hall. A new Cat with a new name!
At first Lord Tabley didn’t quite know what to make of this strange new creature before him. The weak squeaky little Kitten he had so despised had been transformed into a self-confident handsome beast. Lord Tabley also had to admit that some of the skills his son had acquired came in quite handy. There was a clamour among the ladies of the household, and beyond to have their portraits painted, and his Lordship had to admit it was a nice little earner.
The place was a wash with Cats who could catch Rats and Mice - the market was saturated - but a Cat that could depict feline vanity? Well that was an entirely different affair. Therefore it was only a matter of time until Tabley’s talents reached the ears of the residents of Longtoes Hall. Lord Longtoes had been scratching his head trying to think of a suitable gift to give his daughter Tabitha for her third Birthday. So on hearing of their neighbour’s talent for portraiture, this presented itself as an ideal gift. Tabitha of course was thrilled. So on the appointed day, wearing her prettiest dress, Tabitha, with whiskers trembling in anticipation, awaited Tabley’s arrival. Suddenly she heard a sound behind her and turning looked into a pair of the greenest eyes she had ever seen.
“Tabley Angelfur at your service.”
So that had become the start of a beautiful friendship, and Tabley began to spend more and more time at Longtoes Hall, charming the ladies of the household with his talent and good manners. The Tom Cats of the Hall however, disliked his ‘airs and graces’ and considered that he was working on some devious plan, but Tabitha would have non of it.
She was madly in love. Smitten like a Kitten!
And so the Summer lazily wore on at the Hall, punctuated by frequent bouts of wild enjoyment, and slothful indolence. until one day around the middle of August Lord Longtoes suddenly announced that the life of ease had to end. He had been looking at the estates accounts with Mr Weaselwords, his solicitor/accountant and austerity measures would have to be taken.
It was true. Longtoes Hall had been backsliding for some time. Lady Longtoes’ tastes in all things were notoriously extravagant and expensive. Double devon cream at every meal, to give just one example. Added to that, the estate was becoming increasingly unproductive. The ‘Cat Nip crop’ which was their chief source of income had been poor in recent years, and Mr Greenpaws who was supposed to be in charge of that side of things, spent most of his time in the greenhouse smoking the stuff. Clawed and Whiskers were also a drain on resources, as Mr Sharpclaws often found them blind drunk in the wine cellar. Yes the whole place was running to ruin, and something had to be done quickly.
But before things could improve they got worse.
The day after this unwelcome announcement. Mr Weaselwords entered his Lordships study with a letter and, a sickly grin on his face. “From H.Q. I’m afraid” he lisped handing the offending article over.
Lord longtoes didn’t need to open it to know what was inside. But he opened it anyway.
Dear Lord Longtoes,
It has come to the attention of the Royal Committee, that the Longtoes Estate is experiencing ‘slight’ financial difficulties and in the interest of ‘friendship and fraternity’ we would like to send one of our ‘experts’ to ‘help’ advise you on this matter…..…..etc etc….
His lordship knew quite well what it meant. A thorough audit. And if the Hall wasn’t considered to be up to scratch, the whole place would be sold off including him!
Hard Times at the Hall
The austerity measures introduced at the Hall were most unwelcome, as was the arrival of Prudence Tabbyledger from the Royal Councils Central Committee. Prudence had been sent to do a complete audit of all the Hall’s Income and Outgoings, and to discover whether Longtoes Hall could meet its obligations as a royal estate.
Although being classed as a Royal Estate bestowed great privilege on a family, it also came with many obligations, chief amongst them being an annual subscription to the central fund, a commitment that the central committee doubted Lord Longtoes could meet. Failure to do so would result in the loss of the Halls Royal status, which would heap great shame and disgrace on the Hall and all its inhabitants.
‘But that would only be the start of our problems’, Lord Longtoes thought grimly. He had been pacing around the Hall all night, tail twitching furiously in an effort to work out a solution to their plight.
Only once before had his lordship heard of family losing its royal status, and they were the ‘Hissbergers’ of Winchester, and what a scandal that had caused! So disgraced were they, that the entire household was forced to separate and leave the county destitute. It was rumoured that Lord and Lady Hissberger suffered the ultimate disgrace and ended up becoming household pets in Bristol!
Lord Longtoes shuddered at the memory. ‘No I must find a solution whatever it takes,’ he told himself. Just at that moment he heard a sound outside his window. Poking out his nose and whiskers he saw three Squirrels chattering away to each other in a tree opposite.
He listened with amusement to their high nasal jabbering. Such a primitive language thought his lordship. Why, had he not himself mastered it in three days?
Cats generally had a natural talent for languages; it helped them lure their prey into a false sense of security, and was one of the main reasons Cats had managed to gain a paw hold in almost every corner of the globe. Lord Longtoes himself had distant cousins in places as far away as Kathmandu, Catford, Katowize and Catalonia…
CATALONIA!! Suddenly he froze, the fur standing rigid on his back.
Catalonia of course!! Why had he not thought of it before! He had a cousin there, but not any old cousin but an extremely RICH cousin.
Felipe Gato-Gordo!
Although he lost contact many years before Lord Longtoes had heard all about the large estate Felipe lived on outside Barcelona. Suddenly a grin began to spread across his Lordship’s face, and with it a germ of an idea slowly began to grow. It was a long shot but what did he have to lose? The thought of ending up as somebody’s pet in Manchester was all the motivation he needed.
“Catalan hey” Colonel Furkin stroked a paw across his whiskers musing. “has a lot in common with Weasel dialect unless I’m very much mistaken, wouldn’t take a lot to find out”
Across from the Colonel, Lord Longtoes sat grinning a big Cheshire Cat grin. When he had first hatched his plan the main stumbling block he saw was ironically one of language.
Now, there were two major Linguists living on the estate, Tabley Angelfur and the Colonel. Tabley ruled himself out completely for reasons that will soon become apparent. So that left his old friend the Colonel.
“Yes you see Ferdinand,” his Lordship fawned, “I would like to invite cousin Felipe over to the Hall for a few days, as I hear these Spanish mogs love there hunting and fishing, and well what a better fellow to organise such an event than you”
The Colonel stretched himself long, a pleased look on his face. “Well of course Lionel, I would only be too happy, nothing like a spot of organised hunting and Fishing.”
“excellent Ferdinand . I’ve sent Felipe a letter by International Squirrel Mail, he should receive it in the morning.” Lord Longtoes purred to himself contentedly. The first part of his plan had worked purfectly, the second part however may prove a little bit more difficult….
Meanwhile in another part of the Hall, Prudence Tabbyledger was peering over her glasses with an extremely grim look on her face. Clasped tightly between her paws were a sheath of receipts and unpaid bills. Each piece of paper she studied was greeted to growls and hisses of disapproval. What Prudence was reading was not good. Oh no, not good at all. The occupants of Longtoes Hall had been living lives of complete hedonism, without even a whisker flick towards the most basic of economic rules.
Lavish Parties, trips to all parts of the Country, new Chase lounges in every room… and half the inhabitants of the Hall seemed to contribute absolutely nothing to the running costs. For example: Take those two, Clawed and Whiskers. What did they actually do? It seemed to Prudence they spent the majority of their time getting drunk and upsetting the other members of the household. But more to the point, why were they here at all? Prudence had consulted the ‘Directory of Royal Tabbies in the North of England’ but had been unable to unearth any Clawed McTabby or Whiskers O’Tool. Yes she said to herself I will have to investigate further.
She cleared her throat in disgust and turned to spit out of the window, when she froze in mid hawk; suddenly her fur began to ripple and her heart began to pound, for she was seeing the most purfect specimen of Tom Cat she had ever witnessed. Striding confidently across the lawn towards the woods with an ultra feline grace, magnificent Tiger stripes and paws. And those whiskers. What Whiskers……
…”So you see Ferdinand, Felipe is a Cat right after your own heart, you’ll get on like a Dog Kennel on fire.” Lord Longtoes and the Colonel were striding across the Lawn towards the woods, to investigate some of the potential areas where Felipe could be entertained.
“well I suppose I’d better get working on my Catalan then, can’t have these foreign mogs thinking we can’t speak their lingo hey” and with that they both disappeared into the woods.
Slowly Prudence lifted herself to her paws and gingerly examined herself, for signs of damage. When she had first set eyes on ‘her purfect specimen’she had fainted from her chair and landed on the floor with a terrible crash. Shaking she began to regain her composure. That must have been the ‘Colonel’ she thought, as with trembling paws she searched through her scattered papers, until she found what she was looking for. ‘A brief Biography of the main residents of Longtoes Hall’ And under the heading Ferdinand ‘Colonel’ Furkin. Read. … much decorated veteran of the ‘Tabbyban War’. A war hero too she purred… first cousin of Lord Lionel Longtoes, Colonel Furkin was granted lifetime access to the estate lodge…
Prudence nibbled at the end of her tail.. LIFETIME OCCUPANCY… The words stared out at her mockingly. Prudence had just been about to write a memorandum to the Central Committee recommending that the Longtoes estate be dissolved and all of its assets sold, which would of course include the estate lodge, effectively making the Colonel … a war veteran, and the most beautiful Cat she had ever seen… HOMELESS!
From deep inside her Prudence suddenly let out an anguished meow and fell back to the floor with a crash!
Some years before Prudence Tabbyledger fell from her chair, the historic animosity between the Houses of Tabby and Tortoiseshell spilled over into outright hostility.. The Tortoiseshell community had become increasingly bitter at what they regarded as the Tabbies ‘Royal affectations’ and that actually it was ‘they’ the House of tortoiseshell that had the real claim to the word ‘Royal’.
So in the early Spring of that fateful year the Tortoiseshell forces under the catasmatic leadership of ‘Tortula’ launched an offensive on the tabby strongholds of South Lancashire and Cheshire. At first, due mainly to their numerical advantage and the further element of surprise, Tortulas forces penetrated deep into the tabby heartland, laying waste to many Tabby communities. For a time, it began to look as though the ,Tabbyban? force Would succeed in its aim of ‘eradicating’ all Tabbies.
At that time the three Royal Houses of Cheshire had become lazy and complacent about their status in life, living for the most part lives of slothful indolence, sleeping all day, and staggering off their chaise- longues just long enough to catch a mouse or two. It was an absolute certainty that the three houses of tabby would have fallen had they not had amongst their number a military genius.
One Ferdinand Furkin. The ‘Colonel’ as he affectionately became known, was a first cousin to Lord Longtoes, and right from early Kittenhood had shown remarkable talents. He caught his first Mouse at the age of two months, and by four months Rats and Rabbits ran in fear. He was also a natural linguist and rapidly became fluent in Squirrel, Weasel, Rabbit, Fox and even a smattering of Dog, a feat unheard of in feline circles.
The Colonel spurned the easy life, that most of his contemparies enjoyed, preferring to live simply in the woods, honing his hunting, fishing and tracking skills. He was also a brilliant strategist and tactician forging alliances and relationships with all manner of unlikely bedfellows. So when the ‘Tabbyban’ offensive reached the borders of Cheshire, the Colonels many talents came together majestically.
First he organised the three Royal Households from a bunch of idle loafers into a coherent fighting force. Gone was the idle lazing of yore. Now Tabbies could be seen running up trees and jumping off high branches, swimming in the brook and chasing hares across the fields, all under the critical eye of the Colonel, and if any one started to complain the Colonel sharply reminded him that their very survival was at stake.
Then followed the Colonels first act of genius.
‘THE KNUTSFORD ACCORD’
Up until that time Squirrels were seen merely as a source of food or something to hunt for entertainment. But the Colonel had studied their behaviour over many months while living in the Woods, and had been impressed by their industry, but what had impressed him above all was their highly developed communications network. Many times he had observed messages been transferred from one edge of the wood to the other at lightning speed, and after making discreet inquires had learned that even greater distances; county to County, even Internationally could be covered extremely quickly.
The Colonel could clearly see how such a highly developed network could be crucial in defeating a numerically superior enemy. The Squirrels would make perfect spies and intelligence gatherers. But first he would have to take away the Squirrels fear of being hunted and killed by a horde of murderous Tabby Cats.
So the ‘Knutsford Accord’ came into being.
At first the three Royal Houses were reluctant to accept such an agreement- after all Squirrel hunting had been a tradition going back hundreds if not thousands of years- but the Colonel was quick to outline the gravity of their situation, and reluctantly the three households finally agreed and the ‘Knutsford Accord’ came into existence
The signing ceremony took place on Knutsford Heath just after dawn. Briefly stated the agreement granted all Squirrels immunity from being hunted by any member of the Royal Houses, and also the right to live and work on the Royal estates. In return the Tabbies were granted complete access to the Squirrels communications network, who would also supply intelligence about the movement of the ‘Tabbyban’ forces.
This agreement was a ‘keystone’ in the Tabby strategy and turned a potentially dire situation into one of great advantage, Almost overnight the Tabby forces were able to ‘see and hear’ almost every move the Tabbyban forces made, enabling lighting strikes to be made on there positions with great effect.
The Colonels second act of genius was to garner the support of the small but highly feared ‘Ginger Cat’ population. The Ginger Cats had long been seen as the true ‘Warrior’ class, and there is no fiercer sight in the feline world than that of a ‘big ginger tom’ bearing down on its prey. Although very independently minded - they tended to live in small groups in the woods- The Colonel had managed to forge an excellent relationship with them. The Ginger Toms had been very impressed by the Colonels talents, so much so in fact they had awarded the Colonel the badge of the ‘Non Ginger’ the highest accolade a non Ginger Cat could receive. Only two such awards had ever been given in living memory. So when the Colonel approached ‘Guru-ging’ the Ginger Cats nominal head for support the great Ginger Tom agreed that they would provide ‘logistical’ support to the Tabbies in return for certain Hunting and fishing rights on the Royal estates. So clasping Paws and tails together the Colonel and Guru-ginge sealed he deal and the ‘ginger alliance’ came into being.
These two major strategic initiatives of the Colonel swung the balance of power decisively in favour of the House of Tabby. Of course there was still the odd skirmish around the County, but once ‘Tortula’ heard that the Ginger Toms had sided against the ‘Tabbyban’ forces she quickly withdrew what remained of her forces behind the County lines.
Needless to say the Colonel was a hero, and his brilliant campaign strategy was acclaimed far and wide. The invitations poured in for him to deliver Teaching seminars and lectures both at home and abroad, and on his return some months later, Lord Longtoes granted him lifetime use of the estate lodge…
Prudence removed her glasses, a tear forming at the corner of her eye. She had been so moved at what she had just read. Moved and proud to be walking over the same ground as the Colonel; and yet it was her job to find ways to make him homeless. She was caught between a ‘ pit bull and a rotweiller’ She could not do it. She had to find a way.
Felipe receives a Letter.
Felipe Gato-Gordo was in a terrible mood. He had been given the job of cleaning out the wood shed at the ‘el Tabbio’ estate. Felipe hated work at the best of times, but he knew that Don gato-alto was out to make him suffer. ‘And to think’ he muttered to himself ‘I used to order the likes of gato-alto around.’
It was true.
Felipe had taken a very hard fall from grace. Once the proud owner of ‘el Tabbio’ Felipe had squandered everything on the high life and an addiction to gambling, which had finally left him penniless. Forced from his ancestral home, it had been demeaning to have to beg a position from the new owner of the estate, but that is what Felipe had had to do. So now Felipe worked for gato-alto as cook and odd-jobber. At least he was well fed, but Felipe had been getting strong signals of late that gato-alto was beginning to enjoy Felipe’s reversal of fortune, as he was being given more and more unpleasant jobs to do., and Felipe who was very overweight, was finding it increasingly difficult to carry them out.
Just as Felipe was about to howl with frustration, he heard a rustling sound behind him. Turning he saw a Squirrel with something clutched between its paws. On seeing Felipe approach the Squirrel dropped what it had been holding and scurried quickly away. Reaching down Felipe realised it was a letter. A letter addressed to Him! It had been a very long time since anybody had wrote him a letter, his fall from grace had not made him the most popular Cat in the district. Picking it up he padded across to a tree stump where he sat down to examine it further. Fine quality paper he mused. Then he noticed the Longtoes Hall seal in the corner of the envelope, so quickly tearing it open with his claws he unfolded the letter and began to read..
My Dearest Felipe Gato-Gordo,
I know that you must be a busy fellow, managing your large estate, but it would give myself and Lady Longtoes enormous pleasure if you could find time to come and enjoy our hospitality at Longtoes Hall, and as it has been many years since we last met it would be good to catch up on all the news.
My daughter Tabitha is now fully grown and she often asks about her ‘uncle’ Felipe. So let me know when you are coming over, as I can assure you of a warm welcome and much of the Longtoes’ legendary hospitality.
With my deepest respect.
Lionel Longtoes.
When Felipe had finished reading, he suddenly felt as light as a feather. There was no doubt about it at all, the Great Tabby Cat in the sky was grinning down on him.
What an opportunity!
It was common knowledge that ‘Longtoes Hall’ was one of the wealthiest estates in the whole of England, and he had just received an invitation. Springing to his feet Felipe began to stack the branches with renewed energy, meowing a song his Mother had taught him as a Kitten.
Clawed and whiskers.
Clawed and Whiskers gingerly climbed out of the ditch they had been sleeping in all night “My head is as thick as a Rotweillers tongue” moaned Clawed “what did you put in that stuff?
Whiskers grinned weakly. “It’s an old Longtoes recipe. Whiskers kept a ‘still’ going in the woods behind Longtoes Hall, much to the displeasure of Lord Longtoes. But then again, all the male members of the household - apart from the ethereal Angelfur- were more than a little prone to intoxicating liquids, so his Lordship really had no grounds for complaint. After all what was a Cat to do ? Making merry was in their nature.
Clawed and Whiskers had been pals since Kittenhood, but had built themselves a reputation as a right pair of ‘Rascals’ So much so the occupants of Longtoes Hall wondered why his Lordship tolerated such behaviour.
Clawed looked across to his friend. “How many Cats at the hall actually know that you are Lord Longtoes’ son and heir”
Whiskers gulped as he caught a passing fly in his mouth “Only the Colonel I think, but you never can tell.” He chuckled.
“But I thought they would see the family resemblance” insisted Clawed.
Whiskers shot his friend a withering look. “What family resemblance you fool, we’re all pure Tabbies here. We all look alike.”
“Oh, I suppose. I never thought of it like that” Clawed replied blankly.
Whiskers pondered the nature of things and his tail began to twitch.. What clawed had said had hit a nerve. It was true he was a ‘guilty secret.’He was Lord Longtoes’ unrecognised son, and although his Father gave him a generous allowance, and turned a blind eye to most of he and claweds capers, he knew that eventually Tabitha would inherit The Longtoes Estate and he would be cast out on his pointed little ear…
Felipe arrives at Longtoes Hall.
Felipe Gato-Gordo finally arrived at Longtoes Hall in early Autumn, around the same time in fact that Prudence Tabbyledger was experiencing her dilemma.
Felipe certainly lived up to his name. He was ENORMOUS. So enormous in fact, he found it impossible to climb the smallest tree. Many members of the Longtoes household could be seen sniggering behind their paws as he passed, and the Colonel could barely conceal his disgust.
Lord Longtoes however seemed oblivious to his guest’s short comings and adopted an almost fawning attitude towards him. But there was crafty work going on in his Lordships mind. His scheming was well advanced, and all that remained was for him to put the pieces of the jigsaw together. But when he had mentioned his plan to Lady Longtoes she had not been impressed.
“Betroth Tabitha to Felipe! ARE YOU MAD?” Lady Longtoes hissed venomously at her mate. “Tabitha will be betrothed to Tabley.”
His Lordship looked across at Leonora with a crafty look on his face. “No she won’t, She is not of age She will be betrothed to Felipe.”
In the Royal Tabby circles, Cats did not become ‘of age’ until they were 3.5 years old, and until that age were unable to marry the partner of their choice, but also it was up to the Father of the female to chose his daughters partner. Of course Lord Longtoes’ hasty desire to hitch Tabitha to felipe, was entirely one of self interest. Once Tabitha and felipe were betrothed, to all intents and purposes the Houses of Longtoes and Gato-Gordo would become one, all debts cleared, and Longtoes Hall’s future secured, which would then mean it would again become the pre-eminent house in the county, and everybody would live happily ever after.
There was just one small problem that his Lordship was blithely unaware of...
The Gathering Storm.
In late August, Longtoes Hall found its self in the middle of a heat wave, and practically all activity on the estate stopped. The inhabitants slumbered for hours without barely a flicker of the whiskers, even the Colonel, by far the most active found it difficult to rouse himself. Of late, Prudence Tabby-Ledger had been calling on the Colonel quite regularly. At first the Colonel resented her presence, as he was not a great one for socialising with the opposite sex, but gradually he began to warm towards her as Prudence showed a genuine interest in him and his recollections. “Oh Ferdinand! You really must write a book about your experiences” Prudence had said to him. “You have such a wonderful story to tell”. The Colonel was beginning to think she could have a point, he wasn’t getting any younger and in a way he felt it was his duty to leave something of value to future feline generations.
This morning however Colonel Furkin detected a change in Prudence’s mood. She seemed distracted and tense, her tail clasped tightly around her paws. “Ferdinand I have a confession to make.” Prudence coughed nervously. She had been agonizing all night about her situation and the ludicrous lie told by Lord Longtoes that she was a landscape designer working on a new design for the land behind the hall. Suddenly it all came out in a rush. “ I was sent here by the Central Committee of the Royal Tabby Cats to make an audit of the Longtoes Estates finances..” She pawsed for breath.
The Colonel was watching her keenly. “Go on” he said.
“well the thing is Ferdinand, Longtoes hall is in a terrible state, and it is my duty to write a report to that effect.” Prudence’s voice began to tail off weakly “ but if I write my report Longtoes Hall will be sold along with all its other assets including…”
“Including this lodge” The Colonel broke in. “and presumably I will then be homeless.”
Prudence gave him a look of complete misery. “Yes. Oh Ferdinand how can you ever forgive me?”
The Colonel was overcome with a wave of affection for this little tabby in front of him, and if he were honest with himself, she was stirring feelings in him he hadn’t experienced in a long time. Placing his paw gently on her tail he said. “Don’t worry Prudence, it’s not your fault, you were only following orders, and as a soldier I can understand that.”
“Thank you Ferdinand” Prudence said in a small voice. “But you see I don’t want any of this to happen, I’ve become very fond of the Cats here, and especially you, but I don’t know what to do. I get messages every day asking when my report will be ready..”
“Blasted Beauracats” The Colonel thundered “Call themselves Royal Tabbies they’re nothing but glorified house mice. I’d love to have them under my command for a day. But I’m glad you’ve told me, I’ve been wondering myself why things around here have gone a little strange lately, and my instinct tells me it has something to do with our Spanish friend señor Gato-Gordo. It’s about time I started to make some enquires about that particular fellow”
Unknown to either of them Felipe had been crouched beneath the Colonels window and had heard every word.
Felipe Disappears.
When Mr Sharpclaws entered the dining room of Longtoes Hall that morning he was dismayed to discover that the cabinet containing the Longtoes family silver was empty. The silver bowls and dishes were the prized possessions of the Longtoes dynasty and had been in the family for generations. Now they had vanished!
Needless to say from that moment on the household was in uproar, and every member was called up to mount a thorough search. After they had been searching for about an hour. Mrs Furworthy asked. “Why isn’t our Catalan friend helping us with the search? Although she suspected he was still in bed. This thought she confided to Clawed who was next to her
“No he’s not” said Clawed. “I saw him a couple of hours ago leaving the Hall. He was pulling a large bag behind him with his tail.”
The gathered assembly on hearing this news fell silent, and a dozen pair of green eyes fixed on clawed. Colonel Furkin finally broke the silence. “You mean to say that Gato-Gordo left here pulling a large bag?”
Clawed looked blankly at the Colonel. “Well yes I… oh you don’t think..” his words trailed away as realisation began to dawn.
As the day wore on it became increasingly obvious that his Lordships esteemed guest had absconded with the family silver.
His Lordship was at first perplexed. “I don’t understand it” he said addressing the searchers “Felipe is a Cat of wealth and distinction, why would he want to do such a thing?”
The Colonel cleared his throat and stepped forward. “I think there is something you should know Lionel…”
And so The Colonel went on to outline the results of his research which with the help of his squirrel network he had assembled with such speed. As he revealed the story of Felipe’s demise his Lordship seemed to shrink into a tabby ball..
“So you mean to say” his Lordship finally croaked “that….”
“Yes Lionel I do. Felipe Gato-Gordo is penniless and destitute… or he at least he will be until he can find a buyer for the Longtoes family silver.”
“NEVER!” Lord Longtoes hissed. “No Cat would ever buy such obviously stolen items.”
Colonel Furkin didn’t share his friends confidence. He he had heard that the foreign mogs weren’t as scrupulous, but he decided to keep his council.
After the incident of the stolen family silver a pall of depression seemed to descend on the whole household. Even Clawed and Whiskers seemed far more subdued than normal. It were as though the behaviour of Gato-Gordo had left them all feeling tainted in some way. In addition of course, the estates financial problems remained and the ominous messages from the Royal Council continued to arrive.
Lord Longtoes had suffered a grievous blow from the whole affair and he seemed to have aged visibly, his fur taking on a dull lustre. He spent hours curled besides the fire. It had seemed to all intent and purpose he had given up, even his old friend the Colonel failed to lift his sagging spirits. It was the fighting spirit of the Colonel however that would as ever turn what seemed to be a hopeless situation into one of hope..
The Colonel Holds A Banquet.
It was in the early Autumn that Colonel Furkin decided to hold a banquet. He had become fed up at the atmosphere that hung over the Hall. Every Cat seemed to be walking around with ‘hound-dog’ expressions, not a pretty sight to observe on the normally grinning countenance of the Cheshire Cat.
“Prudence, I shall hold a banquet!’ he announced one morning “I shall invite both the Tableys and the Scratchpoles, and we will get this mess sorted one way or another. I’m tired of all this scuttling around. They’re like a bunch of frightened house mice up at the Hall.”
Prudence was of course in complete agreement and offered her considerable secretarial skills in making the arrangements. And so as happened some months before. The entire households of ‘tabley’ and ‘scratchpole’ assembled on the lawn of Longtoes Hall. It was a beautiful autumn day, betraying non of the drama that would envelope them all just a few hours later. In truth the Colonel wasn’t really sure what his gesture would achieve. But the one thing that his military career had taught him was that an army with low morale was a defeated one. If they were to get themselves out of this mess, the household had to get themselves into fighting shape. And what better way to lift a Cat’s morale than a banquet!
Over the preceding week the entire household had thrown themselves into the effort. Cooking, cleaning, writing invitations… and it was apparent to everybody that the colonel and Prudence formed a considerable team. Even Clawed and Whiskers, for once had been making a big effort, although Clawed’s mental state was beginning to give cause for concern. Walking in the woods a few days previously the Colonel had come across Clawed sitting in a tree hissing at himself wildly… Something would have to done about Clawed and soon.
But now as the banquet was getting into full swing all such thoughts were banished. Even the insufferable ‘scratchpoles’ seemed to be enjoying themselves, although lady Scratchpole couldn’t help but remark at the absence of silver bowls and dishes. Even Lord Longtoes was more of his old self, laughing and joking. As the light began to fade, the colonel pro-posed they all go down to the river as he had spotted a colony of kingfishers earlier that morning. So leaving the hall behind they all started the short treck down to the river, so merry and bright were they all that they failed to notice that the weather was suddenly beginning to take a rather ominous turn. Deep black clouds gathered above them
As they reached the brook, the rain started to fall in earnest, and the party sought shelter beneath a willow tree. An amalgam of damp dripping fur. The mood amongst the felines like the weather had become scratchy, an Lord Tabley could be heard muttering darkly about the lack of umbrellas supplied by their host;
Suddenly there was a terrific lightning bolt followed my an enormous crack of thunder, causing the Cats to almost jump out of their fur. The rain was now torrential and the brook which had been so calm and sleepy only minutes earlier now became transformed into a raging torrent..
As ever the Colonel took charge of the situation. “No point hanging about, let’s return to the hall without delay, everybody grab hold of the tail of the Cat in front..”
So in this fashion they slowly made there way up the bank toward safety..
WOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWW!!!!!
Suddenly a blood curdling feline howl cut above the sound of the storm,, and as the Colonel looked back he was dismayed to see Lord Tabley, slip down the bank and into the raging brook, dragging lady Tabley along in his wake…
“Quickly!” the Colonel turned to the group, “ we must chase them downstream and find a log large enough to use as a buoy”
They all bounded along the river bank like little Cheetahs.. even the arthritic Lord Longtoes seemed to find hidden reserves of speed and energy.. but the situation was looking increasingly grave as lord and lady Tabley were swept downstream…..
Tragic Times.
The combined members of all three royal Households gathered together on Knutsford Heath. The first light of dawn was slanting through the trees casting an eerie shadow on the proceedings.. the silence disturbed only by the sound of gentle feline sobbing…
Lord Longtoes cleared his throat and began to speak…
“We are all gathered here this morning, to pay our final respects, to Lord and Lady Tabley, who so tragically lost their lives during the great storm…” he pawsed as a mouse sized lump formed in his throat. “ although.. although his lordship and I didn’t always share the same point of view, we were locked together by far greater bonds of tabbyship.. and it is with great sadness that we now commit his and her ladyships stiff furry bodies to the earth…”
Many of the ladies present could be seen dabbing tears from their eyes with their tails, and even the normally stoical Colonel was quivering slightly with the emotion of the moment.
It was left to the Son and heir of Lord Tabley to deliver the final words as their bodies were laid to rest..
de Angelfur, for that is what he now called himself, read one of his favourite poems.. Perhaps he liked it so much because he in fact composed it himself…
A Tiger for one day.
I didn’t mean to hurt you
I’m sorry that I ran away
But I guess it’s in my nature
You taught me to be strong
Told me I was the best
I wanted to be a Tiger
If only for one day
To roam the forest free
To hunt the mice that flee
To feel the power In my paws
And know the sharpness of my claws
To show you what you taught me
And know your warm applause
Someday we will meet again
And this is what I’ll say.
“I’m sorry that I hurt you.
I’m sorry that I ran away.
But I was a Tiger for one day”
And with that the gathered assembly headed off back to Longtoes Hall for a light breakfast and reminiscences of their departed friends…
Catilogue.
Spring sprang on the longtoes estate in a riot of flowers. Warmer days would soon arrive and the Cats once more be able to spend more time outdoors. Many changes had occurred over the Winter.
With the tragic loss of lord and Lady Tabley, de Angelfur and Tabitha Stripedears had been inaugurated as the ninth Lord and Lady Tabley. This had been a great relief to Lord Longtoes as the Tabley estate was disgustingly solvent.. and now through the medium of his daughter he had a paw hold in that largesse.. Financial worries were now a thing of the past, and the estate had gradually returned to it’s natural state of dissipation and sloth..
Happy Cats indeed!
The Colonel with the help of prudence had written his memoirs, and had both now set off to America to deliver lectures at several esteemed Cat Colleges..
Before leaving however, the Colonel had once again demonstrated his resourcefulness.. Using his considerable contacts, he had managed to detect both the whereabouts of Gato-Gordo and the missing Longtoes silver. The Spanish rascal had been attempting to sell his ill gotten gains to a broker in Marseille, blithely unaware that said broker was in fact an old compatriot of the Colonels!!
Immediately alerted, the Colonel had requested that Gato-Gordo be detained until his arrival. The slippery fellow had however slipped the net, and was last seen boarding an oil tanker bound for the far east..
Needless to say, the return of the silver had been a source of great joy to everyone, and had provided another excuse (not that one were needed) to hold another banquet.. and as his lordship staggered out across the hall lawn, he could at last say with true feline conviction..
Alls well that ends well!
THE END.
© David McConville 2005
At the edge of a wood,
By a bubbling brook
The ancient seat of
Longtoes stood…
And to all who read
This feline tale
So lovingly catalogued
Meow
Once Upon a Time……
Dawn was breaking over the beautiful English County of Cheshire, and a faint mist hung over the Longtoes river valley, and although to the casual observer it seemed like a perfect picture of rural England, something was missing. Deep inside the wood there was an eary silence, no birds could be heard singing, and the sound of small mammals was noticeable by its absence.
Very strange one might think.
But this was no ordinary valley, for as you followed Longtoes brook from the edge of the wood, after a very short time you would arrive at a very unusual dwelling. Longtoes Hall. Home of Lord and Lady Longtoes, seventh descendent of the Alderley Edge chapter of Royal Tabby Cats.
The Alderley edge chapter held the honour of being the oldest in England, and also the largest, as it contained two other Royal Halls; Scratchpole and Tabley, but the Hall of Longtoes considered itself to be the finest of them all.
For the sake of completion the other English Chapters are: Winchester; Stratford Upon Avon; and Alnwick.
To be considered a Royal Tabby, a Cat has to fulfil very strict criteria. Firstly he or She has to be born within a five mile radius of any of the Royal residences. Secondly be completely Tabby - although patches of white on the paws and chin are acceptable - and NEVER to have lived in the company of Humans. Royal Tabbies are also distinguishable by their tails as when they are fully upright they curl into the shape of a question mark.
Now just as the sun began to rise, two feline shapes could be seen leaving the woods and heading in the direction of the Hall. These two characters were Mr Greenpaws, the estate gardener, and Mr Sharpclaws, the hall Butler and Lord Longtoes, personal assistant. They had spent the last two hours crouched low in a ditch hoping to catch something tasty for breakfast. But truthfully neither of them were particularly good hunters, so had decided to call off their vigil, return to the Hall and curl up beside the fire for a couple of hours.
Lord Longtoes holds a barbecue.
The Hall had been a hive of activity all morning. Squirrels could be seen rushing back and forth towing large bundles of small twigs in their wake. Every year, on midsummer’s day Lord Longtoes held a barbecue. It had been a family tradition for generations, and one that his Lordship was happy to continue, as it involved lots of eating, drinking and general merry activity. What more could a Cat want?
In the Hall Kitchen you could just about make out the outline of Mrs Swishtails’ whiskers, behind a tower of pots and pans. She had been hard at work all morning, preparing food for the barbecue. When Mrs Swishtail was cooking it was best to leave her alone. The Kitchen was her domain, and woe-betide any cat that crossed its threshold. Just as she had finished shaping yet another Mouse Burger, Mrs Swishtail´s whiskers twitched, sensing another presence. Turning She was horrified to see Clawed dabbing his paw into a bowl of her sauce, then slowly licking it off.
“Clawed. Get your filthy paw out of my sauce.” As Mrs Swishtail roared this command, her tail began to swish, slowly at first, then faster and faster. Mrs Swishtail had an awesome tail; so awesome in fact, it had been known to split logs! And now its swishing might was drawing closer and closer to a terrified Clawed. With a mighty howl and a leap of super-feline effort, Clawed launched himself into the air and out of the Kitchen window just as the lethal tail crashed into the sauce bowl he had been so enjoying a moment earlier, shattering it into a thousand pieces and plastering the floor and walls with Rat sauce.
Meanwhile back at the Hall his Lordship had a problem. He was unable to to locate Colonel Furkin. It was a tradition of the midsummer barbecue, that the senior Tom Cats of the household served the food from the barbecue, so that meant himself, and the Colonel. Glancing up from that weeks edition of the ‘Tabby Times’ he spotted Mr Sharpclaws polishing a set of skewers.
“Sharpclaws. Have you had sight of the Colonel?”
Mr Sharpclaws looked up. “Yes m´lord I saw him about an hour ago going into the woods with ‘Whiskers’.”
Drat! The fur on his Lordship’s back began to bristle. This could only spell trouble. He knew that Whiskers kept a ´still´ in the woods, and was also aware of the Colonels ´weakness` for the odd drop of firewater….
Lord Longtoes padded across to his butler. “Sharpclaws, come with me we have no time to waste.”
There is only one thing worse than the sight of a drunken Tom Cat, and that is the sight of two drunken Tom Cats attempting to cook on a barbecue. But that was the sight that greeted the felines assembled on the lawn of Longtoes Hall that midsummer afternoon, as amid much tutting and Cheshire Cat grinning Lord Longtoes and Colonel Furkin with increasingly un-Cat like co-ordination attempted to grill Sausages and Mouse Burgers, most of which ended up on the lawn. The assembled gathering grew animated with increasing howls of laughter at the pantomime they were witnessing. The assembly hadn’t witnessed such wild entertainment for years..
Then suddenly the crowd grew silent, as Lady Longtoes, followed by her daughter Tabitha Stripedears, Mrs swishtail and Mrs Furworthy the housekeeper cut a swathe through the howling crowd.
Stopping directly before her mate, Lady Longtoes roared, her fur bristling with indignation. “Lionel you are a disgrace to the Longtoes crest.” Then turning to face the Colonel with a look that would kill a mouse at forty yards “and you.. I always thought that you were common and uncouth…”
But before her ladyship was able to complete her sentence, the Colonel belched loudly and fell to the ground. Turning to look around Lady Longtoes was mortified to see the `scratchpoles´ sniggering behind their paws.
That Morning after feeling..
Colonel Furkin was Lord Longtoes First cousin and best friend. As a gift to his old friend, his Lordship had granted the Colonel use of the Hall lodge for life, as a reward for his efforts during the ´Tabbyban´ war. Although small, the lodge suited the Colonel perfectly. He lived a simple life and his needs were easily satisfied. He also lived a disciplined life for the most part, but was prone to one major character flaw…. which surfaced at the most inappropriate moments…
A liking for intoxicating substances.
The Colonel clasped a trembling paw to his throbbing head and hissed. For one terrible moment he thought he was back in the thick of battle, as flashes exploded inside his skull. Slowly however, grim reality began to surface. He remembered being at the barbecue cooking sausages then the feel of her Ladyships hot fiery breath…. The Colonel’s whiskers drooped at the memory. Receiving a tongue lashing from her ladyship was not a wise move, as they had never been on the best of terms. Her Ladyship thought him ‘crude and beastly,’ and his performance at the barbecue would only strengthen her dislike.
“Oh well” he sighed “no use crying over spilt milk.”
Damn that Whiskers and his still. He was always up to mischief, hanging around the woods with his pal Clawed; they got up to all manner of trouble. The Colonel mused on the nature of Whiskers; he was one of only two members of the household who knew Whiskers’ true lineage, but he would end up like Tyson Big paws if he wasn’t careful.
The Colonel staggered to his feet and sprayed around his bed, a habit he had acquired out in the field in order to ward off wild animals, and one if her Ladyship knew about would make him even more unpopular, then he scratched behind his ear with his back leg
“No use daydreaming, there’s work to be done” he told himself sternly. Fish to be caught, Rats to be trapped. If it weren’t for him the place would starve. They were a lazy bunch of rascals up at the Hall, lying in front of the fire all day preening themselves.
“Crude and beastly hey” the Colonel growled “just remember madam, it’s crude and beastly that puts food in your bowl.
Meanwhile back at the Hall, Lord Longtoes wished he had never woken up at all, for as he slyly opened one eye he heard an all too familiar voice screech out.
“You can’t fool me I know you’re awake!”
His Lordship rolled himself into a ball covering his eyes with his tail, a most undignified pose for one so high bred, but at that precise moment dignity came a poor second to survival. He had seen Leonora roused before, and fur was about to fly.
HIS.
“Lionel How could you? And in front of the Scratchpoles, I will never be able to show my face again.”
The Scratchpoles were a sore point. As the oldest established ‘Royal’ family of the county, they considered themselves ‘Top Cats’ and were in the habit of looking down on their neighbours, the ‘Tableys’ and the ‘Longtoes’’ as felines of an inferior standing.
“and those two furry freeloaders Whiskers and Clawed.” She continued “I don’t understand why you have them around, It’s not as though they’re relatives or anything.”
At that moment if it were possible, his Lordship’s fur would have turned white.
Oh how close to the truth you are my dear. If only you knew.
The Tale of Tabley Angelfur.
Tabley Angelfur was reclining in a hammock in the Hall Garden reciting love poems to Tabitha Stripedears, who was perched on a branch above his head.
Your Whiskers are like threads of gold,
Shimmering in the halo of your beauty.
How can my green unworthy eyes
Behold such treasure?
“Oh Tabley how beautiful!!” exclaimed Tabitha. Clapping her paws.
Tabitha Stripedears queen of tabbies,
Born to rule the house of Longtoes,
May all your foes catch rabies
Or be condemned to eternal Cat Shows!
“Tabley, you are so funny and talented.” Tabitha was purring so loudly the leaves were falling off the branches.
Yes Tabley thought smugly to himself. I AM TALENTED. Poet, Musician, Linguist, Painter…. A real Renaissance Cat!
But it hadn’t always been like that. Born Felix Tabley, the first son of Lord Tabley, he had not turned into the strong willed domineering Tom Cat his Father had hoped for, indeed he had acquired the nickname ‘mousy’ because of his unusually high pitched meow.
It had been a lonely Kitten hood, shunned by the other Kittens, as nobody would play with him, he had passed his days in a world of make believe, playing in the woods alone. Very early on he discovered he had a gift for learning languages. He had picked up Squirrel in just over a week, and went on to become fluent in both Bat and Weasel before he was twelve months old. He also discovered something very odd about himself. He had no desire whatsoever to hunt and kill the smaller Animals. In fact the very notion repelled him, for they had become his friends; so instead of hunting them he wrote Poems about them and painted there portraits. But this ideal world he had created for himself only proved a brief respite from the bullying of the older Cats. There was one Cat in particular, a big Ginger Tom from the Village who went by the name of Tyson Bigpaws who became Felix’s’ nemesis. Bigpaws would sneak up a tree at the edge of the wood and lie in wait on one of the lower branches for Felix to pass, then he would launch himself with a howl and a hiss onto the poor Kittens back as he passed. Felix would hobble home, his coat scratched and dishevelled only to receive a tongue lashing from his Father for being so timid and weak.
Then one day Felix heard that Tyson had been killed by a bacon slicer whilst attempting to rob a butchers shop in the village. While trying to reach a particularly succulent string of sausages, Tyson had over balanced falling onto the bacon slicer and accidentally pushing the power button with his tail….
Felix had shuddered at the image, but it proved to be a turning point in his story, for the very next day Felix left Tabley Hall and set out on an adventure that would last a whole year.
He travelled far and wide throughout the County using his language skills to great effect, and he never went short of food or a place to lay his head. Finally after one year he returned to Tabley Hall. A new Cat with a new name!
At first Lord Tabley didn’t quite know what to make of this strange new creature before him. The weak squeaky little Kitten he had so despised had been transformed into a self-confident handsome beast. Lord Tabley also had to admit that some of the skills his son had acquired came in quite handy. There was a clamour among the ladies of the household, and beyond to have their portraits painted, and his Lordship had to admit it was a nice little earner.
The place was a wash with Cats who could catch Rats and Mice - the market was saturated - but a Cat that could depict feline vanity? Well that was an entirely different affair. Therefore it was only a matter of time until Tabley’s talents reached the ears of the residents of Longtoes Hall. Lord Longtoes had been scratching his head trying to think of a suitable gift to give his daughter Tabitha for her third Birthday. So on hearing of their neighbour’s talent for portraiture, this presented itself as an ideal gift. Tabitha of course was thrilled. So on the appointed day, wearing her prettiest dress, Tabitha, with whiskers trembling in anticipation, awaited Tabley’s arrival. Suddenly she heard a sound behind her and turning looked into a pair of the greenest eyes she had ever seen.
“Tabley Angelfur at your service.”
So that had become the start of a beautiful friendship, and Tabley began to spend more and more time at Longtoes Hall, charming the ladies of the household with his talent and good manners. The Tom Cats of the Hall however, disliked his ‘airs and graces’ and considered that he was working on some devious plan, but Tabitha would have non of it.
She was madly in love. Smitten like a Kitten!
And so the Summer lazily wore on at the Hall, punctuated by frequent bouts of wild enjoyment, and slothful indolence. until one day around the middle of August Lord Longtoes suddenly announced that the life of ease had to end. He had been looking at the estates accounts with Mr Weaselwords, his solicitor/accountant and austerity measures would have to be taken.
It was true. Longtoes Hall had been backsliding for some time. Lady Longtoes’ tastes in all things were notoriously extravagant and expensive. Double devon cream at every meal, to give just one example. Added to that, the estate was becoming increasingly unproductive. The ‘Cat Nip crop’ which was their chief source of income had been poor in recent years, and Mr Greenpaws who was supposed to be in charge of that side of things, spent most of his time in the greenhouse smoking the stuff. Clawed and Whiskers were also a drain on resources, as Mr Sharpclaws often found them blind drunk in the wine cellar. Yes the whole place was running to ruin, and something had to be done quickly.
But before things could improve they got worse.
The day after this unwelcome announcement. Mr Weaselwords entered his Lordships study with a letter and, a sickly grin on his face. “From H.Q. I’m afraid” he lisped handing the offending article over.
Lord longtoes didn’t need to open it to know what was inside. But he opened it anyway.
Dear Lord Longtoes,
It has come to the attention of the Royal Committee, that the Longtoes Estate is experiencing ‘slight’ financial difficulties and in the interest of ‘friendship and fraternity’ we would like to send one of our ‘experts’ to ‘help’ advise you on this matter…..…..etc etc….
His lordship knew quite well what it meant. A thorough audit. And if the Hall wasn’t considered to be up to scratch, the whole place would be sold off including him!
Hard Times at the Hall
The austerity measures introduced at the Hall were most unwelcome, as was the arrival of Prudence Tabbyledger from the Royal Councils Central Committee. Prudence had been sent to do a complete audit of all the Hall’s Income and Outgoings, and to discover whether Longtoes Hall could meet its obligations as a royal estate.
Although being classed as a Royal Estate bestowed great privilege on a family, it also came with many obligations, chief amongst them being an annual subscription to the central fund, a commitment that the central committee doubted Lord Longtoes could meet. Failure to do so would result in the loss of the Halls Royal status, which would heap great shame and disgrace on the Hall and all its inhabitants.
‘But that would only be the start of our problems’, Lord Longtoes thought grimly. He had been pacing around the Hall all night, tail twitching furiously in an effort to work out a solution to their plight.
Only once before had his lordship heard of family losing its royal status, and they were the ‘Hissbergers’ of Winchester, and what a scandal that had caused! So disgraced were they, that the entire household was forced to separate and leave the county destitute. It was rumoured that Lord and Lady Hissberger suffered the ultimate disgrace and ended up becoming household pets in Bristol!
Lord Longtoes shuddered at the memory. ‘No I must find a solution whatever it takes,’ he told himself. Just at that moment he heard a sound outside his window. Poking out his nose and whiskers he saw three Squirrels chattering away to each other in a tree opposite.
He listened with amusement to their high nasal jabbering. Such a primitive language thought his lordship. Why, had he not himself mastered it in three days?
Cats generally had a natural talent for languages; it helped them lure their prey into a false sense of security, and was one of the main reasons Cats had managed to gain a paw hold in almost every corner of the globe. Lord Longtoes himself had distant cousins in places as far away as Kathmandu, Catford, Katowize and Catalonia…
CATALONIA!! Suddenly he froze, the fur standing rigid on his back.
Catalonia of course!! Why had he not thought of it before! He had a cousin there, but not any old cousin but an extremely RICH cousin.
Felipe Gato-Gordo!
Although he lost contact many years before Lord Longtoes had heard all about the large estate Felipe lived on outside Barcelona. Suddenly a grin began to spread across his Lordship’s face, and with it a germ of an idea slowly began to grow. It was a long shot but what did he have to lose? The thought of ending up as somebody’s pet in Manchester was all the motivation he needed.
“Catalan hey” Colonel Furkin stroked a paw across his whiskers musing. “has a lot in common with Weasel dialect unless I’m very much mistaken, wouldn’t take a lot to find out”
Across from the Colonel, Lord Longtoes sat grinning a big Cheshire Cat grin. When he had first hatched his plan the main stumbling block he saw was ironically one of language.
Now, there were two major Linguists living on the estate, Tabley Angelfur and the Colonel. Tabley ruled himself out completely for reasons that will soon become apparent. So that left his old friend the Colonel.
“Yes you see Ferdinand,” his Lordship fawned, “I would like to invite cousin Felipe over to the Hall for a few days, as I hear these Spanish mogs love there hunting and fishing, and well what a better fellow to organise such an event than you”
The Colonel stretched himself long, a pleased look on his face. “Well of course Lionel, I would only be too happy, nothing like a spot of organised hunting and Fishing.”
“excellent Ferdinand . I’ve sent Felipe a letter by International Squirrel Mail, he should receive it in the morning.” Lord Longtoes purred to himself contentedly. The first part of his plan had worked purfectly, the second part however may prove a little bit more difficult….
Meanwhile in another part of the Hall, Prudence Tabbyledger was peering over her glasses with an extremely grim look on her face. Clasped tightly between her paws were a sheath of receipts and unpaid bills. Each piece of paper she studied was greeted to growls and hisses of disapproval. What Prudence was reading was not good. Oh no, not good at all. The occupants of Longtoes Hall had been living lives of complete hedonism, without even a whisker flick towards the most basic of economic rules.
Lavish Parties, trips to all parts of the Country, new Chase lounges in every room… and half the inhabitants of the Hall seemed to contribute absolutely nothing to the running costs. For example: Take those two, Clawed and Whiskers. What did they actually do? It seemed to Prudence they spent the majority of their time getting drunk and upsetting the other members of the household. But more to the point, why were they here at all? Prudence had consulted the ‘Directory of Royal Tabbies in the North of England’ but had been unable to unearth any Clawed McTabby or Whiskers O’Tool. Yes she said to herself I will have to investigate further.
She cleared her throat in disgust and turned to spit out of the window, when she froze in mid hawk; suddenly her fur began to ripple and her heart began to pound, for she was seeing the most purfect specimen of Tom Cat she had ever witnessed. Striding confidently across the lawn towards the woods with an ultra feline grace, magnificent Tiger stripes and paws. And those whiskers. What Whiskers……
…”So you see Ferdinand, Felipe is a Cat right after your own heart, you’ll get on like a Dog Kennel on fire.” Lord Longtoes and the Colonel were striding across the Lawn towards the woods, to investigate some of the potential areas where Felipe could be entertained.
“well I suppose I’d better get working on my Catalan then, can’t have these foreign mogs thinking we can’t speak their lingo hey” and with that they both disappeared into the woods.
Slowly Prudence lifted herself to her paws and gingerly examined herself, for signs of damage. When she had first set eyes on ‘her purfect specimen’she had fainted from her chair and landed on the floor with a terrible crash. Shaking she began to regain her composure. That must have been the ‘Colonel’ she thought, as with trembling paws she searched through her scattered papers, until she found what she was looking for. ‘A brief Biography of the main residents of Longtoes Hall’ And under the heading Ferdinand ‘Colonel’ Furkin. Read. … much decorated veteran of the ‘Tabbyban War’. A war hero too she purred… first cousin of Lord Lionel Longtoes, Colonel Furkin was granted lifetime access to the estate lodge…
Prudence nibbled at the end of her tail.. LIFETIME OCCUPANCY… The words stared out at her mockingly. Prudence had just been about to write a memorandum to the Central Committee recommending that the Longtoes estate be dissolved and all of its assets sold, which would of course include the estate lodge, effectively making the Colonel … a war veteran, and the most beautiful Cat she had ever seen… HOMELESS!
From deep inside her Prudence suddenly let out an anguished meow and fell back to the floor with a crash!
Some years before Prudence Tabbyledger fell from her chair, the historic animosity between the Houses of Tabby and Tortoiseshell spilled over into outright hostility.. The Tortoiseshell community had become increasingly bitter at what they regarded as the Tabbies ‘Royal affectations’ and that actually it was ‘they’ the House of tortoiseshell that had the real claim to the word ‘Royal’.
So in the early Spring of that fateful year the Tortoiseshell forces under the catasmatic leadership of ‘Tortula’ launched an offensive on the tabby strongholds of South Lancashire and Cheshire. At first, due mainly to their numerical advantage and the further element of surprise, Tortulas forces penetrated deep into the tabby heartland, laying waste to many Tabby communities. For a time, it began to look as though the ,Tabbyban? force Would succeed in its aim of ‘eradicating’ all Tabbies.
At that time the three Royal Houses of Cheshire had become lazy and complacent about their status in life, living for the most part lives of slothful indolence, sleeping all day, and staggering off their chaise- longues just long enough to catch a mouse or two. It was an absolute certainty that the three houses of tabby would have fallen had they not had amongst their number a military genius.
One Ferdinand Furkin. The ‘Colonel’ as he affectionately became known, was a first cousin to Lord Longtoes, and right from early Kittenhood had shown remarkable talents. He caught his first Mouse at the age of two months, and by four months Rats and Rabbits ran in fear. He was also a natural linguist and rapidly became fluent in Squirrel, Weasel, Rabbit, Fox and even a smattering of Dog, a feat unheard of in feline circles.
The Colonel spurned the easy life, that most of his contemparies enjoyed, preferring to live simply in the woods, honing his hunting, fishing and tracking skills. He was also a brilliant strategist and tactician forging alliances and relationships with all manner of unlikely bedfellows. So when the ‘Tabbyban’ offensive reached the borders of Cheshire, the Colonels many talents came together majestically.
First he organised the three Royal Households from a bunch of idle loafers into a coherent fighting force. Gone was the idle lazing of yore. Now Tabbies could be seen running up trees and jumping off high branches, swimming in the brook and chasing hares across the fields, all under the critical eye of the Colonel, and if any one started to complain the Colonel sharply reminded him that their very survival was at stake.
Then followed the Colonels first act of genius.
‘THE KNUTSFORD ACCORD’
Up until that time Squirrels were seen merely as a source of food or something to hunt for entertainment. But the Colonel had studied their behaviour over many months while living in the Woods, and had been impressed by their industry, but what had impressed him above all was their highly developed communications network. Many times he had observed messages been transferred from one edge of the wood to the other at lightning speed, and after making discreet inquires had learned that even greater distances; county to County, even Internationally could be covered extremely quickly.
The Colonel could clearly see how such a highly developed network could be crucial in defeating a numerically superior enemy. The Squirrels would make perfect spies and intelligence gatherers. But first he would have to take away the Squirrels fear of being hunted and killed by a horde of murderous Tabby Cats.
So the ‘Knutsford Accord’ came into being.
At first the three Royal Houses were reluctant to accept such an agreement- after all Squirrel hunting had been a tradition going back hundreds if not thousands of years- but the Colonel was quick to outline the gravity of their situation, and reluctantly the three households finally agreed and the ‘Knutsford Accord’ came into existence
The signing ceremony took place on Knutsford Heath just after dawn. Briefly stated the agreement granted all Squirrels immunity from being hunted by any member of the Royal Houses, and also the right to live and work on the Royal estates. In return the Tabbies were granted complete access to the Squirrels communications network, who would also supply intelligence about the movement of the ‘Tabbyban’ forces.
This agreement was a ‘keystone’ in the Tabby strategy and turned a potentially dire situation into one of great advantage, Almost overnight the Tabby forces were able to ‘see and hear’ almost every move the Tabbyban forces made, enabling lighting strikes to be made on there positions with great effect.
The Colonels second act of genius was to garner the support of the small but highly feared ‘Ginger Cat’ population. The Ginger Cats had long been seen as the true ‘Warrior’ class, and there is no fiercer sight in the feline world than that of a ‘big ginger tom’ bearing down on its prey. Although very independently minded - they tended to live in small groups in the woods- The Colonel had managed to forge an excellent relationship with them. The Ginger Toms had been very impressed by the Colonels talents, so much so in fact they had awarded the Colonel the badge of the ‘Non Ginger’ the highest accolade a non Ginger Cat could receive. Only two such awards had ever been given in living memory. So when the Colonel approached ‘Guru-ging’ the Ginger Cats nominal head for support the great Ginger Tom agreed that they would provide ‘logistical’ support to the Tabbies in return for certain Hunting and fishing rights on the Royal estates. So clasping Paws and tails together the Colonel and Guru-ginge sealed he deal and the ‘ginger alliance’ came into being.
These two major strategic initiatives of the Colonel swung the balance of power decisively in favour of the House of Tabby. Of course there was still the odd skirmish around the County, but once ‘Tortula’ heard that the Ginger Toms had sided against the ‘Tabbyban’ forces she quickly withdrew what remained of her forces behind the County lines.
Needless to say the Colonel was a hero, and his brilliant campaign strategy was acclaimed far and wide. The invitations poured in for him to deliver Teaching seminars and lectures both at home and abroad, and on his return some months later, Lord Longtoes granted him lifetime use of the estate lodge…
Prudence removed her glasses, a tear forming at the corner of her eye. She had been so moved at what she had just read. Moved and proud to be walking over the same ground as the Colonel; and yet it was her job to find ways to make him homeless. She was caught between a ‘ pit bull and a rotweiller’ She could not do it. She had to find a way.
Felipe receives a Letter.
Felipe Gato-Gordo was in a terrible mood. He had been given the job of cleaning out the wood shed at the ‘el Tabbio’ estate. Felipe hated work at the best of times, but he knew that Don gato-alto was out to make him suffer. ‘And to think’ he muttered to himself ‘I used to order the likes of gato-alto around.’
It was true.
Felipe had taken a very hard fall from grace. Once the proud owner of ‘el Tabbio’ Felipe had squandered everything on the high life and an addiction to gambling, which had finally left him penniless. Forced from his ancestral home, it had been demeaning to have to beg a position from the new owner of the estate, but that is what Felipe had had to do. So now Felipe worked for gato-alto as cook and odd-jobber. At least he was well fed, but Felipe had been getting strong signals of late that gato-alto was beginning to enjoy Felipe’s reversal of fortune, as he was being given more and more unpleasant jobs to do., and Felipe who was very overweight, was finding it increasingly difficult to carry them out.
Just as Felipe was about to howl with frustration, he heard a rustling sound behind him. Turning he saw a Squirrel with something clutched between its paws. On seeing Felipe approach the Squirrel dropped what it had been holding and scurried quickly away. Reaching down Felipe realised it was a letter. A letter addressed to Him! It had been a very long time since anybody had wrote him a letter, his fall from grace had not made him the most popular Cat in the district. Picking it up he padded across to a tree stump where he sat down to examine it further. Fine quality paper he mused. Then he noticed the Longtoes Hall seal in the corner of the envelope, so quickly tearing it open with his claws he unfolded the letter and began to read..
My Dearest Felipe Gato-Gordo,
I know that you must be a busy fellow, managing your large estate, but it would give myself and Lady Longtoes enormous pleasure if you could find time to come and enjoy our hospitality at Longtoes Hall, and as it has been many years since we last met it would be good to catch up on all the news.
My daughter Tabitha is now fully grown and she often asks about her ‘uncle’ Felipe. So let me know when you are coming over, as I can assure you of a warm welcome and much of the Longtoes’ legendary hospitality.
With my deepest respect.
Lionel Longtoes.
When Felipe had finished reading, he suddenly felt as light as a feather. There was no doubt about it at all, the Great Tabby Cat in the sky was grinning down on him.
What an opportunity!
It was common knowledge that ‘Longtoes Hall’ was one of the wealthiest estates in the whole of England, and he had just received an invitation. Springing to his feet Felipe began to stack the branches with renewed energy, meowing a song his Mother had taught him as a Kitten.
Clawed and whiskers.
Clawed and Whiskers gingerly climbed out of the ditch they had been sleeping in all night “My head is as thick as a Rotweillers tongue” moaned Clawed “what did you put in that stuff?
Whiskers grinned weakly. “It’s an old Longtoes recipe. Whiskers kept a ‘still’ going in the woods behind Longtoes Hall, much to the displeasure of Lord Longtoes. But then again, all the male members of the household - apart from the ethereal Angelfur- were more than a little prone to intoxicating liquids, so his Lordship really had no grounds for complaint. After all what was a Cat to do ? Making merry was in their nature.
Clawed and Whiskers had been pals since Kittenhood, but had built themselves a reputation as a right pair of ‘Rascals’ So much so the occupants of Longtoes Hall wondered why his Lordship tolerated such behaviour.
Clawed looked across to his friend. “How many Cats at the hall actually know that you are Lord Longtoes’ son and heir”
Whiskers gulped as he caught a passing fly in his mouth “Only the Colonel I think, but you never can tell.” He chuckled.
“But I thought they would see the family resemblance” insisted Clawed.
Whiskers shot his friend a withering look. “What family resemblance you fool, we’re all pure Tabbies here. We all look alike.”
“Oh, I suppose. I never thought of it like that” Clawed replied blankly.
Whiskers pondered the nature of things and his tail began to twitch.. What clawed had said had hit a nerve. It was true he was a ‘guilty secret.’He was Lord Longtoes’ unrecognised son, and although his Father gave him a generous allowance, and turned a blind eye to most of he and claweds capers, he knew that eventually Tabitha would inherit The Longtoes Estate and he would be cast out on his pointed little ear…
Felipe arrives at Longtoes Hall.
Felipe Gato-Gordo finally arrived at Longtoes Hall in early Autumn, around the same time in fact that Prudence Tabbyledger was experiencing her dilemma.
Felipe certainly lived up to his name. He was ENORMOUS. So enormous in fact, he found it impossible to climb the smallest tree. Many members of the Longtoes household could be seen sniggering behind their paws as he passed, and the Colonel could barely conceal his disgust.
Lord Longtoes however seemed oblivious to his guest’s short comings and adopted an almost fawning attitude towards him. But there was crafty work going on in his Lordships mind. His scheming was well advanced, and all that remained was for him to put the pieces of the jigsaw together. But when he had mentioned his plan to Lady Longtoes she had not been impressed.
“Betroth Tabitha to Felipe! ARE YOU MAD?” Lady Longtoes hissed venomously at her mate. “Tabitha will be betrothed to Tabley.”
His Lordship looked across at Leonora with a crafty look on his face. “No she won’t, She is not of age She will be betrothed to Felipe.”
In the Royal Tabby circles, Cats did not become ‘of age’ until they were 3.5 years old, and until that age were unable to marry the partner of their choice, but also it was up to the Father of the female to chose his daughters partner. Of course Lord Longtoes’ hasty desire to hitch Tabitha to felipe, was entirely one of self interest. Once Tabitha and felipe were betrothed, to all intents and purposes the Houses of Longtoes and Gato-Gordo would become one, all debts cleared, and Longtoes Hall’s future secured, which would then mean it would again become the pre-eminent house in the county, and everybody would live happily ever after.
There was just one small problem that his Lordship was blithely unaware of...
The Gathering Storm.
In late August, Longtoes Hall found its self in the middle of a heat wave, and practically all activity on the estate stopped. The inhabitants slumbered for hours without barely a flicker of the whiskers, even the Colonel, by far the most active found it difficult to rouse himself. Of late, Prudence Tabby-Ledger had been calling on the Colonel quite regularly. At first the Colonel resented her presence, as he was not a great one for socialising with the opposite sex, but gradually he began to warm towards her as Prudence showed a genuine interest in him and his recollections. “Oh Ferdinand! You really must write a book about your experiences” Prudence had said to him. “You have such a wonderful story to tell”. The Colonel was beginning to think she could have a point, he wasn’t getting any younger and in a way he felt it was his duty to leave something of value to future feline generations.
This morning however Colonel Furkin detected a change in Prudence’s mood. She seemed distracted and tense, her tail clasped tightly around her paws. “Ferdinand I have a confession to make.” Prudence coughed nervously. She had been agonizing all night about her situation and the ludicrous lie told by Lord Longtoes that she was a landscape designer working on a new design for the land behind the hall. Suddenly it all came out in a rush. “ I was sent here by the Central Committee of the Royal Tabby Cats to make an audit of the Longtoes Estates finances..” She pawsed for breath.
The Colonel was watching her keenly. “Go on” he said.
“well the thing is Ferdinand, Longtoes hall is in a terrible state, and it is my duty to write a report to that effect.” Prudence’s voice began to tail off weakly “ but if I write my report Longtoes Hall will be sold along with all its other assets including…”
“Including this lodge” The Colonel broke in. “and presumably I will then be homeless.”
Prudence gave him a look of complete misery. “Yes. Oh Ferdinand how can you ever forgive me?”
The Colonel was overcome with a wave of affection for this little tabby in front of him, and if he were honest with himself, she was stirring feelings in him he hadn’t experienced in a long time. Placing his paw gently on her tail he said. “Don’t worry Prudence, it’s not your fault, you were only following orders, and as a soldier I can understand that.”
“Thank you Ferdinand” Prudence said in a small voice. “But you see I don’t want any of this to happen, I’ve become very fond of the Cats here, and especially you, but I don’t know what to do. I get messages every day asking when my report will be ready..”
“Blasted Beauracats” The Colonel thundered “Call themselves Royal Tabbies they’re nothing but glorified house mice. I’d love to have them under my command for a day. But I’m glad you’ve told me, I’ve been wondering myself why things around here have gone a little strange lately, and my instinct tells me it has something to do with our Spanish friend señor Gato-Gordo. It’s about time I started to make some enquires about that particular fellow”
Unknown to either of them Felipe had been crouched beneath the Colonels window and had heard every word.
Felipe Disappears.
When Mr Sharpclaws entered the dining room of Longtoes Hall that morning he was dismayed to discover that the cabinet containing the Longtoes family silver was empty. The silver bowls and dishes were the prized possessions of the Longtoes dynasty and had been in the family for generations. Now they had vanished!
Needless to say from that moment on the household was in uproar, and every member was called up to mount a thorough search. After they had been searching for about an hour. Mrs Furworthy asked. “Why isn’t our Catalan friend helping us with the search? Although she suspected he was still in bed. This thought she confided to Clawed who was next to her
“No he’s not” said Clawed. “I saw him a couple of hours ago leaving the Hall. He was pulling a large bag behind him with his tail.”
The gathered assembly on hearing this news fell silent, and a dozen pair of green eyes fixed on clawed. Colonel Furkin finally broke the silence. “You mean to say that Gato-Gordo left here pulling a large bag?”
Clawed looked blankly at the Colonel. “Well yes I… oh you don’t think..” his words trailed away as realisation began to dawn.
As the day wore on it became increasingly obvious that his Lordships esteemed guest had absconded with the family silver.
His Lordship was at first perplexed. “I don’t understand it” he said addressing the searchers “Felipe is a Cat of wealth and distinction, why would he want to do such a thing?”
The Colonel cleared his throat and stepped forward. “I think there is something you should know Lionel…”
And so The Colonel went on to outline the results of his research which with the help of his squirrel network he had assembled with such speed. As he revealed the story of Felipe’s demise his Lordship seemed to shrink into a tabby ball..
“So you mean to say” his Lordship finally croaked “that….”
“Yes Lionel I do. Felipe Gato-Gordo is penniless and destitute… or he at least he will be until he can find a buyer for the Longtoes family silver.”
“NEVER!” Lord Longtoes hissed. “No Cat would ever buy such obviously stolen items.”
Colonel Furkin didn’t share his friends confidence. He he had heard that the foreign mogs weren’t as scrupulous, but he decided to keep his council.
After the incident of the stolen family silver a pall of depression seemed to descend on the whole household. Even Clawed and Whiskers seemed far more subdued than normal. It were as though the behaviour of Gato-Gordo had left them all feeling tainted in some way. In addition of course, the estates financial problems remained and the ominous messages from the Royal Council continued to arrive.
Lord Longtoes had suffered a grievous blow from the whole affair and he seemed to have aged visibly, his fur taking on a dull lustre. He spent hours curled besides the fire. It had seemed to all intent and purpose he had given up, even his old friend the Colonel failed to lift his sagging spirits. It was the fighting spirit of the Colonel however that would as ever turn what seemed to be a hopeless situation into one of hope..
The Colonel Holds A Banquet.
It was in the early Autumn that Colonel Furkin decided to hold a banquet. He had become fed up at the atmosphere that hung over the Hall. Every Cat seemed to be walking around with ‘hound-dog’ expressions, not a pretty sight to observe on the normally grinning countenance of the Cheshire Cat.
“Prudence, I shall hold a banquet!’ he announced one morning “I shall invite both the Tableys and the Scratchpoles, and we will get this mess sorted one way or another. I’m tired of all this scuttling around. They’re like a bunch of frightened house mice up at the Hall.”
Prudence was of course in complete agreement and offered her considerable secretarial skills in making the arrangements. And so as happened some months before. The entire households of ‘tabley’ and ‘scratchpole’ assembled on the lawn of Longtoes Hall. It was a beautiful autumn day, betraying non of the drama that would envelope them all just a few hours later. In truth the Colonel wasn’t really sure what his gesture would achieve. But the one thing that his military career had taught him was that an army with low morale was a defeated one. If they were to get themselves out of this mess, the household had to get themselves into fighting shape. And what better way to lift a Cat’s morale than a banquet!
Over the preceding week the entire household had thrown themselves into the effort. Cooking, cleaning, writing invitations… and it was apparent to everybody that the colonel and Prudence formed a considerable team. Even Clawed and Whiskers, for once had been making a big effort, although Clawed’s mental state was beginning to give cause for concern. Walking in the woods a few days previously the Colonel had come across Clawed sitting in a tree hissing at himself wildly… Something would have to done about Clawed and soon.
But now as the banquet was getting into full swing all such thoughts were banished. Even the insufferable ‘scratchpoles’ seemed to be enjoying themselves, although lady Scratchpole couldn’t help but remark at the absence of silver bowls and dishes. Even Lord Longtoes was more of his old self, laughing and joking. As the light began to fade, the colonel pro-posed they all go down to the river as he had spotted a colony of kingfishers earlier that morning. So leaving the hall behind they all started the short treck down to the river, so merry and bright were they all that they failed to notice that the weather was suddenly beginning to take a rather ominous turn. Deep black clouds gathered above them
As they reached the brook, the rain started to fall in earnest, and the party sought shelter beneath a willow tree. An amalgam of damp dripping fur. The mood amongst the felines like the weather had become scratchy, an Lord Tabley could be heard muttering darkly about the lack of umbrellas supplied by their host;
Suddenly there was a terrific lightning bolt followed my an enormous crack of thunder, causing the Cats to almost jump out of their fur. The rain was now torrential and the brook which had been so calm and sleepy only minutes earlier now became transformed into a raging torrent..
As ever the Colonel took charge of the situation. “No point hanging about, let’s return to the hall without delay, everybody grab hold of the tail of the Cat in front..”
So in this fashion they slowly made there way up the bank toward safety..
WOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWW!!!!!
Suddenly a blood curdling feline howl cut above the sound of the storm,, and as the Colonel looked back he was dismayed to see Lord Tabley, slip down the bank and into the raging brook, dragging lady Tabley along in his wake…
“Quickly!” the Colonel turned to the group, “ we must chase them downstream and find a log large enough to use as a buoy”
They all bounded along the river bank like little Cheetahs.. even the arthritic Lord Longtoes seemed to find hidden reserves of speed and energy.. but the situation was looking increasingly grave as lord and lady Tabley were swept downstream…..
Tragic Times.
The combined members of all three royal Households gathered together on Knutsford Heath. The first light of dawn was slanting through the trees casting an eerie shadow on the proceedings.. the silence disturbed only by the sound of gentle feline sobbing…
Lord Longtoes cleared his throat and began to speak…
“We are all gathered here this morning, to pay our final respects, to Lord and Lady Tabley, who so tragically lost their lives during the great storm…” he pawsed as a mouse sized lump formed in his throat. “ although.. although his lordship and I didn’t always share the same point of view, we were locked together by far greater bonds of tabbyship.. and it is with great sadness that we now commit his and her ladyships stiff furry bodies to the earth…”
Many of the ladies present could be seen dabbing tears from their eyes with their tails, and even the normally stoical Colonel was quivering slightly with the emotion of the moment.
It was left to the Son and heir of Lord Tabley to deliver the final words as their bodies were laid to rest..
de Angelfur, for that is what he now called himself, read one of his favourite poems.. Perhaps he liked it so much because he in fact composed it himself…
A Tiger for one day.
I didn’t mean to hurt you
I’m sorry that I ran away
But I guess it’s in my nature
You taught me to be strong
Told me I was the best
I wanted to be a Tiger
If only for one day
To roam the forest free
To hunt the mice that flee
To feel the power In my paws
And know the sharpness of my claws
To show you what you taught me
And know your warm applause
Someday we will meet again
And this is what I’ll say.
“I’m sorry that I hurt you.
I’m sorry that I ran away.
But I was a Tiger for one day”
And with that the gathered assembly headed off back to Longtoes Hall for a light breakfast and reminiscences of their departed friends…
Catilogue.
Spring sprang on the longtoes estate in a riot of flowers. Warmer days would soon arrive and the Cats once more be able to spend more time outdoors. Many changes had occurred over the Winter.
With the tragic loss of lord and Lady Tabley, de Angelfur and Tabitha Stripedears had been inaugurated as the ninth Lord and Lady Tabley. This had been a great relief to Lord Longtoes as the Tabley estate was disgustingly solvent.. and now through the medium of his daughter he had a paw hold in that largesse.. Financial worries were now a thing of the past, and the estate had gradually returned to it’s natural state of dissipation and sloth..
Happy Cats indeed!
The Colonel with the help of prudence had written his memoirs, and had both now set off to America to deliver lectures at several esteemed Cat Colleges..
Before leaving however, the Colonel had once again demonstrated his resourcefulness.. Using his considerable contacts, he had managed to detect both the whereabouts of Gato-Gordo and the missing Longtoes silver. The Spanish rascal had been attempting to sell his ill gotten gains to a broker in Marseille, blithely unaware that said broker was in fact an old compatriot of the Colonels!!
Immediately alerted, the Colonel had requested that Gato-Gordo be detained until his arrival. The slippery fellow had however slipped the net, and was last seen boarding an oil tanker bound for the far east..
Needless to say, the return of the silver had been a source of great joy to everyone, and had provided another excuse (not that one were needed) to hold another banquet.. and as his lordship staggered out across the hall lawn, he could at last say with true feline conviction..
Alls well that ends well!
THE END.
© David McConville 2005
