It was another rainy day. Chorley launched himself back through the cat flap after his usual morning patrol.
‘Harrow’ said Chorley announcing his arrival to no one in particular.
‘Chorley,’ said Alison. ‘How come, when ever it’s been raining, you always come home completely dry? Where do you go?’
That information was top secret – Chorley had no intention of revealing his whereabouts.
Mostly he sat under cars when it rained, but he did have some special hidey places that he liked to escape to.
One day Chorley was curled up on the on the desk dreaming about pilchards when he felt someone take off his collar and replace it with something else – much heavier and more clunky.
|Chorley having a snooze.|
Chorley was wide awake now. He shook his ears, but this time there was no tinkling sound from the little bell on his collar. That had gone.
‘That’s Chorley tagged’ said Tristan to Alison. ‘From now on, we’ll be able to track his every move!’
Chorley’s new collar had a special tracking device in it which used a satellite up in space. It located his position and then sent the information to the computer so Tristan and Alison could follow Chorley’s movements as a small dot on screen.
‘We’ll solve this – 'why Chorley never gets wet when it rains' - mystery once and for all,’ said Alison.
That evening as usual, it was raining. As soon as Alison and Tristan heard the cat flap slap back into place, they ran upstairs to the computer and logged on, fascinated to see where Chorley went to on his wanderings.
The computer screen flashed into action. ‘We’re on’ said Tristan as a map came up with a small red dot flashing in the middle. ‘That’s Chorley,’ he said pointing at the red dot.
‘The little monkey, he’s next door in the pub,’ said Alison with a chuckle.
And that’s where he stayed for the next hour, chatting away to Disco Dave about nothing in particular.
Alison and Tristan left him to it for a while and went to have their tea.
When they went back to the computer, Chorley had moved. This time he was three doors down visiting the beautiful lady with the dark hair and nice smile. He was curled up on her lap purring contentedly.
The next time Alison and Tristan checked the computer Chorley was on the move again. The little red dot was flashing its way down the street. Quick as lightening Tristan stuck his head out of the front door, but in the dark all he could see was Coggles, the old Irish Wolfhound from the pub ambling past.
The little red dot finally stopped moving about half way down the street.
|Tracking Chorley on the computer.|
And it stayed there.
And it stayed there.
Chorley didn’t come home all night.
In the morning, when Alison and Tristan checked the red dot on the computer, it was still in the same place.
‘I’m going to look for Chorley,’ said Alison, grabbing her hat and umbrella and making for the door. She was gone and down the street before Tristan could stop her.
Alison knew roughly where the little red dot was, but wasn’t quite sure exactly which house it was. The first door she knocked on was opened by Ernie, the man with the round face who was always carrying eggs. ‘Hopscotch, nobly knees, porridge, pyjamas,’ said Ernie. Alison shook her head in confusion and went back out into the rain.
The next door belonged to Policeman Ant (who wasn’t really an ant – that was just his name). ‘No, I’ve not seen Chorley,’ he said, but I’ll be sure to let you know if I do.
Alison walked down the road knocking on doors, and while everyone knew Chorley, no one knew where he was.
At last Alison reached a big house with an orange door. ‘Strange’ thought Alison taking her coat off and wiping the sweat from her brow, ‘It’s stopped raining and it’s really hot – in fact it’s boiling.’
The door was opened by the ‘orange woman’.
‘Hello love,’ she said. ‘Have you come looking for Chorley? He’s out in the garden on the sun lounger by the pool.’
‘By the pool?’ said Alison looking surprised.
‘Yes love – haven’t you noticed how half way down the street, the sun is always shining? It never rains here. The only umbrellas we have are in our cocktails – we’ve created a tropical paradise.’
|Lounging by the pool.|
She was right, half way down the street the sun always did seem to be shining and now Alison knew why. She also now knew why the ‘orange family’ were orange. They all had an amazing sun tan.
Alison followed the ‘orange woman’ outside into the garden, squinting in the bright sunshine. There was Chorley, lying stretched out on his back on a sun lounger, fast asleep.
|Chorley sun bathing.|
‘Chorley .....,’ said Alison.
Chorley opened one eye, and then the other.
‘Haaaarrrrrrowwww’ he said.
‘So this is where you come to – and why you never come home wet, even when it’s been raining. Well I think it’s time to come home now.’
Chorley smiled at her as he jumped down from the lounger. He thanked the ‘orange woman’ before heading for the door.
‘One thing that I’m still puzzled about Chorley, is how you manage to get back up the road to our house, in the rain, and still be bone dry.’
Chorley said nothing, but whistled loudly.
The leaves in the hedge started to rustle loudly. Alison looked round in alarm as Coggles, the Old Irish Wolfhound from the pub shoved his big shaggy head through the leaves.
Chorley went and stood underneath Coggles and then they set off together walking back up the road in the rain towards home. Chorley didn’t need an umbrella, he had a ‘Coggles brolly’ to keep him nice and dry!