Chorley gets stuck in! (5)

When Chorley was six months old, Alison and Tristan promised to take him out in their canoe for a trip down the Mersey river, right out to the sea. This was a long and treacherous journey with many hazards. 

‘When you are in the canoe Chorley’ Alison said, you have to sit very still and whatever you do, don’t dig your claws in. The canoe is full of air so if you do it will go ‘POP’!

Chorley knew that only grown up kittens went down the Mersey river in a canoe, so he was very excited. He decided to start practicing sitting very still immediately and set about finding the nearest thing he could to a canoe.

First he found the laundry basket. He jumped in and settled himself down. He shut his eyes and held his breath. ‘One, two, three, four .......’ At that moment, Alison walked past the basket where Chorley was hiding. Although Chorley was nearly grown up, he was still a kitten, and kittens like to play! 

'Harrow'!

‘Harrow’ shouted Chorley as he jumped out of the laundry basket to surprise Alison who jumped a mile. ‘Chorley – don’t do that you naughty kitten’, she said with a start. ‘I thought you were practising sitting still. That’s not a very good start – you’ll need to try harder’. 

‘Hmmmm – I’ll need to try harder’ thought Chorley as he went exploring to try and find somewhere else to practise sitting really still. He knew it was very important to get it right.

‘Ahhh, this looks a bit like a canoe’ thought Chorley as he jumped into the bath tub to practise sitting very still. He shut his eyes and held his breath. ‘One, two, three, four, five .......’ At that moment he heard the fridge door open. ‘Dinner’ thought Chorley as his stomach rumbled and before you could say ‘pilchards and prunes’ he jumped out of the bath and raced down the stairs. 

'Dinner'!

‘Harrow’ he said as he sat looking longingly at his food bowl. Alison laughed at him, ‘That wasn’t very good either, was it Chorley. You really need to concentrate, or we won’t be able to take you out in the canoe’.

Chorley went out through his cat flap into the yard. Tristan was there building a brick BBQ. ‘Harrow’ said Chorley, going over to see if he could help Tristan with his cement. ‘Best keep away Chorley, we don’t want you to get stuck in the cement’ said Tristan with a chuckle.

Tristan mends the wall and builds a BBQ

Pushing the cement into the bricks

‘Hmmmm’ thought Chorley, ‘I’m no use to anybody today’.

Then out of the corner of his eye, Chorley saw a big blue bucket over by the shed. ‘I’ll show them’, he thought. ‘I’ll sit in there really still and prove to everyone that I’m grown up enough to go out in the canoe’. And with that he jumped into the bucket and settled himself down, ready to sit really still. The bottom of the big bucket was wet and sandy, just how he imagined a canoe to be, so he closed his eyes and held his breath. 

Oh no - Chorley stuck in the cement!

He’d nearly got to ten when suddenly, ‘Chorley, what are you doing?’ shouted Tristan. Chorley opened his eyes and tried to move, but he couldn’t, he was stuck. He’d been sitting in the bucket Tristan had used to mix the cement.

‘Oh no’ thought Chorley as he shook his ears and wiggled his tail. He was back where he’d started life, stuck in a bucket and it didn’t matter whether it was half full or half empty when it was full of cement that had set hard as stone.

Tristan ran over to the bucket and tried to pull Chorley out, but Chorley was stuck fast.

Alison dashed out of the kitchen and joined in, putting her arms around Tristan’s waist, giving him a hard tug while he tried to pull out Chorley, but Chorley was stuck fast.

The old cat, Black Jack heard the commotion and came over to join the chain of people trying to pull Chorley out of the bucket of cement. But Corley stayed stuck.

Boris and Alan, the two fat woodpigeons flew into the yard and grabbed onto Black Jack. Everyone pulled and pulled, but they couldn’t get any grip with their feet so Chorley stayed firmly stuck.

It was only when Stanley the stripy snail who lived in the flower pots joined in, that they started to make progress. Stanley used all his slime to make a sticky path which gave some grip for the rescue party.

Stanley comes to the rescue.

‘Right everyone, on three, pull really, really hard. One, two, three – PULL’. And so everyone pulled and with the extra grip provided by Stanley the stripy snail, they started to march backwards like a winning tug of war team. They felt Chorley start to loosen and then suddenly – POP! Like a giant champagne cork Chorley was pulled out of the bucket and flew through the air, landing on top of Alan, one of the fat woodpigeons.

‘Sorry Alan’, said Chorley. ‘Are you OK?’

‘Yes’, squeaked Alan, winded. He ruffled his feathers and made a hasty exit up into the tree.

Later that evening, they all decided to have a party to celebrate Chorley’s rescue. Tristan lit the BBQ he’d built that afternoon and cooked some sausages.

‘Well Chorley’, said Tristan, ‘I think we know now that you can sit still for a very long time. But if we put cement in the canoe, it’s very heavy and it will sink. Maybe we need to wait until you are a bit older before we go sailing on the Mersey river’.

Chorley was very disappointed and let out a big sigh. He was very unhappy about how the day had worked out. There was only one thing that would make things better and that was a sausage. So as soon as he thought his grown-up’s backs were turned he crept up and helped himself from the plate on the table. 

'Chorley - you are a naughty kitten', said Alison laughing. But Chorley wasn't listening.

‘Sausages will help me to grow up quickly’, he thought as he tucked in to the big, fat, juicy sausage and started to plan his next adventure.

Disco Dave and the Karaoke Kitten (4)

Before long, Chorley knew his way around the yards and alleyways like the back of his paw. It was his territory and he was The King. It was an important job keeping an eye on everything and Chorley took it all very seriously. 

He’d only had one rumpus and that was with cat called Black Jack who lived in the end house. But Black Jack was very old - almost as old as his long white whiskers. Black Jack had been ‘top cat’ for nearly a hundred years. He knew that it was time for someone new.  So instead, the old cat and the nearly grown up kitten became friends and Black Jack started to teach Chorley the ways of the world – like never to cross the big road at the front of the house.

Sometimes Chorley would sit at the front, hiding under the parked cars. But he always thought about Black Jack’s wise words and stayed away from the big road.

Bit by bit, Chorley started to work out just how the outside world fitted together – the houses and the roads and the shops. And he started to make friends with the people he met. Things were starting to make sense, apart from one thing that puzzled him greatly. The sky outside was often grey, except for one place which was halfway down the road. It was only one house, but above it the sun always seemed to shine. It was very odd – but just a bit too far away to explore at the moment. Chorley decided that he would wait until he was a fully grown up kitten before going to solve that mystery.

Black Jack belonged to the man with the round face who was always carrying eggs. His name was Ernie. 

One day Chorley was sitting underneath the cars at the front of the house, watching people’s feet, when Ernie walked past.

‘Harrow’ said Chorley.

‘Ahh – goslings, chickens, grandchildren, van, cockerels, pond’, said Ernie smiling, as he carried on past on his way to the pub with the big bowling green. Chorley didn’t have a clue what he was on about, but Ernie was friendly enough and sometimes fed him slices of ham, which made him one of Chorley’s favourite people.

Once a week, Chorley and Black Jack would sit on the roof of the shed with Boris and Alan, the fat wood pigeons. They would wait until the sun went down and the singing started. It came from the people in the pub and was a real cat’s chorus. The friends would sit there, swaying in time to the music and trying to join in. Chorley’s favourite was ‘It's got to be Puuurrrrrfect’!

One night Chorley’s curiosity got the better of him. ‘Let’s go and join in properly’ he said. But Black Jack was too old to jump over the wall and the fat wood pigeons were too scared. Chorley was so disappointed, he really wanted to go and join in properly.

‘Chorley Bucket, stop sulking’. Chorley jumped. It was his mother again in his head. Chorley knew what was coming – is your bucket half full or half empty? Things weren’t so bad, so Chorley decided to go solo, and jumped over the wall, crept across the bowling green and poked his nose through the open door into a big room with flashing disco lights.

The man his grown-ups called Disco Dave with his pale denim jeans and matching jacket and with his long grey hair and long white whiskers, was dancing with a microphone in the middle of the room. The room was full of people who were laughing and cheering. Chorley thought he could see Ernie and ‘the orange family’ in the crowd.

Dave pretended he was a rock star playing a giant air guitar. Suddenly he noticed Chorley peeping through the door.

‘Chorley, come in lad’ he said. Chorley was a very confident nearly grown up kitten and didn’t need asking twice and before you could say ‘pilchards and prunes’ he sped through the door and jumped up onto one of the speakers.

‘Would you like to have a go?’ asked Disco Dave. ‘I’ll hold the microphone if you like’. Chorley nodded his ears and the bell on his little red collar made a tinkling sound. ‘What would you like to sing?’ Disco Dave asked. Chorley was just about to say ‘Puuuurrrrfect’ when he had a better idea. ‘Harrow?’ he asked hopefully.

Black Jack, Boris and Alan, the fat wood pigeons had a real treat that warm summer evening as they sat on the shed and listened to Chorley, the Karaoke Kitten and Disco Dave performing together. 

‘Where have you been this evening Chorley?’ asked Alison when Chorley finally came back through the cat flap later that evening. Chorley tried to tell her, but he’d sung so much he’d lost his voice. So instead he purred and wound his way between Alison’s ankles until eventually she picked him up, turned him over onto his back and gave him a big cuddle, just how Chorley liked it.