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. 

Chorley goes exploring (3)

One day, when Chorley was three months old, Alison picked him up in her arms, turned him over onto his back and gave him a big cuddle, just how Chorley liked it. He gave a contented purrdle. 

‘Chorley’ she said, ‘Today is a very important day. Today is the day that you are allowed to go outside’. Chorley knew what that meant and he could barely contain his excitement. He’d been waiting for this moment for ages. 

He was desperate to go and say ‘Harrow’ to all the interesting people he’d seen walking past the window. The ‘orange family’, the man with the round face who was always carrying eggs and the man his grown-ups called ‘Disco Dave’. These were just a few of the characters he’d seen while sitting on the windowsill. And then there was the beautiful lady with the dark hair. He thought he’d really like to say ‘Harrow’ to her. She had a nice smile.

A few weeks earlier Chorley had been very brave. His grown-ups had taken him to someone called ‘The Vet’. They’d put him back in the basket with the wire door and carried him through the streets. He pressed his nose right up to the wire, to see what he could see. Although he knew he lived in a city, what he saw looked more like a village with lots of shops and other interesting looking things. He made a special note to explore them all properly when he was allowed out by himself.

The Vet was very kind. She told Alison and Tristan that Chorley was growing into a fine looking cat. She gave him a big cuddle and before he could say ‘pilchards and prunes’ he felt a little prick. ‘Hmmm’ he thought ‘that wasn’t too bad at all’. The injection was to stop him from picking up germs – which is very important when you’ve got a lot of exploring ahead of you.

A few weeks later, Alison gave Chorley a bright red velvet collar with a little bell on it. Chorley thought he looked exceedingly handsome – with his shiny black fur and little white chin, he was very much the kitten about town. With that Alison opened up the back door and said ‘Off you go Chorley’. Chorley didn’t need telling twice and jumped right across the doormat.

But when Chorley stopped and looked around him - this wasn’t what he’d expected!

Although he was indeed outside, he was still trapped. He was in a yard with high walls and a back gate that was shut. He sat down to think. He could see glimpses of a bigger world. There were trees and there was blue sky, but to a little kitten the walls seemed huge. Surely they were too high to climb. Chorley’s didn’t want to stay in the yard, he wanted to explore as far as he could see and even further again. His heart felt like a stone. What was he going to do now?

‘Chorley Bucket!’ Chorley was startle! It was his mother – where had she come from? As he shook his ears trying to make sense of it all, the bell on his new collar made a tinkling sound. ‘Ahh’ he thought, she’s in my memory. So he closed his eyes and there she was. ‘Chorley Bucket – is your bucket half full or half empty?’ she asked. He knew she was right, things weren’t so bad really. He put his head on one side and thought about all useful skills he’d learned. Like climbing up the drawer handles in the kitchen to lick the roast chicken while his grown-ups weren’t looking. 

Chorley shook his ears again and with his little bell tinkling, got up and looked for his escape route. 

He explored every bit of the yard and finally discovered that he could squeeze himself into a little gap between the wooden shed in the corner of the yard and the wall. He wedged his back against the bricks and stuck his claws into the wood and hauled himself up, little by little, just like climbing a ladder.

It was very hard work, but Chorley was a very determined nearly grown up kitten. He wasn’t going to give up. He wanted to see what the rest of the world looked like. 

Before long Chorley hadn’t just climbed up to the top of the wall, he was sitting on the roof of the shed looking around, to see what he could see. He didn’t think about how he was going to get down, he would worry about that later!

This wasn’t what he’d expected either. When he looked to the left he could see three other yards, all joined together. When he looked to the right he could see one, two, three ......err......lots of other yards all in a row. But when he looked straight ahead, he could see the alley way that ran along the back of all the yards, then a big wall that looked about a hundred years old. Beyond that there were two leafy trees with silver bark. 

Beyond the trees was a square of the most perfect green he had ever seen with people rolling balls across it. Other people were crowding around the edges watching what was going on. Chorley thought he recognised the ‘orange family’, the man with the round face who carried the eggs and ‘Disco Dave’, all standing in the crowd watching the men rolling the balls. He looked for the beautiful lady with the dark hair, but she wasn’t there. 

Chorley jumped as they let out a big cheer. ‘I wonder what that’s all about?’ Chorley said out loud to himself. He was very puzzled.

‘Coooooo, Cooooooo – it’s called a bowling match’ said a voice. Chorley jumped again. It sounded like the tree was speaking to him. Chorley looked harder and in between the leaves he could just make out a fat pigeon. 

‘What did you say pigeon?’ asked Chorley. 

‘Actually, I’m a wood pigeon. There’s a big difference’. The wood pigeon sounded cross. ‘My name’s Boris and this is my friend Alan. We live in this tree and we watch the human’s rolling their balls all the time’. Another fat wood pigeon edged his way out from behind the leaves. ‘Coooo, coooooo, hello’ he nodded. ‘Alan’ he nodded again introducing himself. ‘We don’t understand why they do it either’ Boris continued. They all roll their balls and the one that gets the closest seems to win. They drink lots of brown water which makes them tell jokes and fall over – and then they come back the next day and do it all over again’. ‘And sometimes they sing too’ added Alan nervously.

Chorley decided to introduce himself. ‘My name is Chorley and I’m a nearly grown up kitten’.

‘Well Chorley, it’s very nice to meet you, why don’t you jump over and join us. You’ll be able to see the ball rolling game much better. Jump over meant jumping over the alley way from the top of the shed to the top of the hundred year old wall and into the trees with the silver bark beyond. It was a massive leap, even for a nearly grown up kitten. But Chorley wasn’t scared of anything. He’d been born in a bucket! So he looked straight ahead and focused on the top of the wall where he wanted to land.

Chorley launched himself from the top the shed across the alley way. But although he was nearly grown up, he was still a kitten and the alley way was very wide. He stuck out his claws, closed his eyes and hoped for the best. If it wasn’t for his strong claws, Chorley would certainly have missed the wall and landed in a heap on the floor. But he dug them into the wall and pulled himself up until his nose poked over the top.

‘Nearly there’ cooo-ed Boris encouragingly and with one final heave, Chorley was up on the wall. From there it was just a small jump into the tree. Chorley settled himself down to watch the ball rolling on the big piece of green, with his two new friends.

Suddenly, the air was full of screeching as five black and white birds with pointy beaks and a big black crow came flying towards the tree. ‘It’s the magpies! We’re off’ shouted Boris as he and Alan made a hasty exit. Chorley was left all alone to face the angry birds who, landed in the branches and quickly surrounded him.

‘What are you doing in our tree?’ screamed the big black crow who was clearly the leader of the gang. ‘Harrow’ Chorley started to say ‘my name is Chorley Bucket and .....’ ‘I don’t care what your name is’ said the crow, ‘you’re in our tree!’ 

Chorley tried to start again. He opened his mouth to say ‘Harrow’ but nothing came out. The magpies jumped around him on the branches, screaming at him ‘You’re in our tree, you’re in our tree’. Chorley panicked. He was sitting a long way up in a tree and he didn’t know how to get down.

Chorley tried to say ‘Sorry’, and ‘Leave me alone’, but again the words just wouldn’t come out.

Alison was upstairs in the house when she heard the commotion. ‘What on earth is that?’ she thought to herself. She went over to the window and was amazed to see Chorley sitting up in the tree being mobbed by magpies and a mean looking crow. She grabbed an old broom and rushed down into the yard. ‘Shooo, Shoooooo!’ she shouted and waved her broom at the birds who took to the skies screeching.

Alison called for Tristan who got a ladder and climbed up into the tree to rescue Chorley.

Chorley thought he’d had enough excitement for one day, so he didn’t complain when his grown-ups took him back inside. He knew that it wouldn’t be forever and so he settled down on Alison’s lap for a sleep – he needed all his energy for tomorrow and his next big adventure.

Chorley Finds his Paws (2)

Chorley didn’t miss his old grown-ups one bit. He had his very own, new grown-ups now.

He didn’t particularly like being put in a basket with wires on the front for the journey down the motorway. He wanted to see where he was going and called ‘wooowt, wooowt, wooooooooowt’ from the back seat. But it didn’t last long and he was soon in his new house with the blue front door.

His new grown-ups set down the basket, opened its wire door and started encouraging Chorley to come out. But Chorley didn’t need asking twice. There was no time to waste, there was much exploring to be done - he was out of there faster than you could say ‘pilchards and prunes’. So many new nooks and cranny’s and interesting looking ‘things’ to be investigated.

Chorley’s new grown-ups Tristan and Alison sat on their big comfy sofa with the furry blanket in their front room and watched Chorley, smiling as he surveyed every corner of his new home.

‘That’s that room done’ he thought at last. He was satisfied that he’d fully explored the front room – time now for a little nap, ‘now where would be a good place?’ he thought.

‘Ah’ he said, spotting the perfect place, ‘From up there, I’ll be able to see everything!’   Although he was only little, he stuck out his nails and clawed his way up the book case and went to sit on what looked like the perfect spot for nearly grown up kitten.

Unfortunately the tower of CD’s next to the old fashioned record player was a bit too wobbly to sit on. Chorley wobbled too and quickly lost his balance. He tried to jump to safety but ended up landing on the record player and as he landed, his leg knocked a special lever which made the turntable start to spin. Sitting slap bang in the middle, Chorley started to spin too. The first couple of times were fun. ‘Meeeeeooooooowwwww’ he yelled as the room flashed past him, the wind in his fur. ‘This is brilliant’.

But soon he started to feel dizzy so he stuck out his paw to slow himself down. But oh dear, he hit the special lever again, and instead of slowing down the turntable speeded up and started to go even faster. ‘Meeeeeeeoooooooowwwww’ yelled Chorley, he didn’t like it anymore. He did the only thing he could do, stuck out his nails and dug in his claws. He held on for as long as he could and just as he started to feel like his head might fly off, he lost his grip and flew across the room. Luckily his new grown-up Tristan had been very good at cricket at school and caught him with both hands before Chorley could hit the wall.

Chorley sat still in Tristan’s arms – his eyes had gone a bit whirly and he could feel yesterdays kitty biscuits coming back up to say ‘harrow’. He felt like a bit of an idiot. Then he thought of his mother and felt a little bit sad that she wasn’t with him anymore. Luckily his mother was a very wise old cat who had taught him lots of useful things before he’d left home. ‘Chorley Bucket’, she would say, ‘Sometimes things don’t go to plan. But you have a choice – you have to ask yourself, is your bucket half full or half empty?’ Chorley looked at his new grown-ups and decided that things weren’t so bad and that his bucket was probably half full. So he shook his ears, stood up, jumped down onto the floor and went off exploring again through the next door.

Tristan and Alison didn’t stop him. They wanted him to feel at home and so gave him a little bit of time to himself. Chorley headed for the kitchen, he could smell something lovely! Where was that lovely smell coming from? First of all he looked inside the washing machine. The door was open so in he climbed. He thought he looked a little bit like an astronaut in a spaceship and made a special note to spend more time in there in the future. But this time Tristan’s smelly running socks were already in there waiting to be washed so he decided that the lovely smell probably wasn’t coming from the washing machine and jumped out again quickly.

Next he decided to explore the rubbish bin. In his old house his other grown-ups often threw away tasty morsels. Chorley stuck his head into the swing-bin and sniffed. ‘Nothing nice in there’ he thought to himself. Although he had stuck his head in the bin lots of times before, he was growing up fast and that included his head, which got stuck. ‘Oh no’ thought Chorley as he yanked back to try and escape the bin. On the third attempt he managed to pull himself free - from the bin – but not from the bin lid. He skidded across the kitchen floor on his bottom wearing the blue plastic swing-bin lid like a big collar around his neck. He came to a stop and shook his head from side to side trying to shake himself free. It wasn’t easy but in the end he managed to open the lid wide enough to get his head out. ‘Phew’ thought Chorley ‘that was close, I could have been stuck wearing a bin lid forever, which would have made exploring much more difficult!’

Chorley still hadn’t managed to find where the lovely smell was coming from, so he walked around the kitchen and then looked up – ‘Ahh’ he thought, ‘there it is’ and with that he set about hauling himself up the drawer handles, just like climbing a ladder.

The roast chicken on the top of the cooker was almost within licking distance when his concentration was broken by ‘Chorley Bucket! What are you doing?’ Chorley was caught red handed. As he clung to the drawer handles, just one more rung between him and a yumtous chicken, he did the only thing he could think of. He smiled at his new grown-ups and sheepishly said ‘Harrow!’

In the beginning (1)

Chorley Bucket was born in a small town ‘up north’ with a lot of roundabouts.

On the day that he was born, Chorley’s mother was going about her daily business – guarding the bins in the yard, trying to sneak in through other cat’s cat flaps to steal their food, supervising the gardening on the allotments – when all of a sudden she felt a bit funny.

In the end, her kittens were born very quickly. There wasn’t time to find anywhere warm, or dark, or quiet. The only place to hand was a rusty old bucket, which just had to do. Chorley and his brothers didn’t want to be born in a bucket, but that’s just how things turned out that day!

Chorley’s two brothers quickly found new homes. For some reason, people seemed to like the ginger kitten and the tabby kitten, much more than the gangly black kitten with a white chin and a loud purr. The grown-ups in the house where Chorley lived with his mother thought that they were going to be stuck with him forever.

It was dark and raining when Alison and Tristan pulled up outside the row of terraced houses in the small town ‘up north’ with a lot of roundabouts, where Chorley and his mother and his grown-ups lived. They walked quickly across the cobbles and knocked on the red front door.

After chatting for a little while Chorley was bought through into the front room. He was eight weeks old and just about fitted into Alison’s hand. Chorley wasn’t really scared of anything. When you’ve been born in a bucket, there isn’t really much to top that. So he yawned, said ‘Harrow’ in a weedy high pitched mew and then rolled over onto his back. He stretched his head and showed off his little white chin and waited to be tickled.

 ‘We’re going to take him aren’t we’ smiled Alison. Tristan nodded and before Chorley could say ‘pilchards and prunes’ he was being driven round the roundabouts, and down the motorway to a new life in a new place with exciting adventures around every corner!