Our Cats in Amsterdam – 10

On the rest of this today and the next today the humans packed and unpacked their bags several times each and changed their suitcases twice. This suggests indecision to me, but they eventually settled on the right items to take and then in the evening of the next today, there was a knock on the front door.

========= 

Gemma and I look at each other – this must be Mrs Elkins, our cat sitter although she was going to have an easy time of it, moving two stuffed toys around the house wouldn’t be too strenuous. Where she’d have to be clever is removing the right amount of food, both tins of wet and bags of dry, from the house on a regular basis, even though we weren’t eating it. Mary walks to the front door and opens it and welcomes in a tall, fair-skinned woman with piercing blue eyes. She looks nice to me. Gemma looks at her with practised disdain.

“Yes, Mrs Elkins, welcome,” says Mary, “I’ll just get our flight information for you. Somewhat surprisingly, the two cats are here to meet you, normally they scamper off and we have to go and find them.”

Mary walks into the kitchen and Mrs Elkins looks at us with a smile. We look back at her with interest. Mary soon comes back clutching a neatly typed piece of paper which she hands to the lady visitor along with a front-door key. 

“Oh you’re going to The Maldives, how nice, I’ve always wanted to go there. Direct flights too, that’ll be nice.”

“Yes, we could have gone via Amsterdam,” says John, coming into the room clutching a toothbrush still in its wrapper, “but we decided to go direct, though we could change it I suppose and spend a day in the city.”

“I think direct flights are so much better,” says Mrs Elkins, “and then you don’t have to worry about what to do about your luggage or having it lying around the tarmac for hours unsupervised.”

Gemma and I stared at the humans trying to transmit thoughts of direct flights into their minds.

“Yes, that’s true,” says Mary, “we’ve been to Amsterdam and I thought the Anne Frank House was poignant and the Rijksmuseum quite overwhelming in terms of the amount of art. I don’t think we’ll want to change our flights, once we’re there we’ll want to enjoy ourselves and not want to think about coming home.”

“I think you’re right, enjoy the sunshine and forget about coming home. Anyway, which of these kitties is which? I’d guess the male one is the kind one and Gemma is the one who’s been glaring at me.”

“She glares at everyone,” says John, “in fact she normally glares at them and then runs off, so you’re quite honoured because she has stayed in your presence. She must really like you.”

I turn to stare at the wall for 10 seconds as I’m quite amused by what John has said and I can imagine Gemma is not pleased.

“I think she’s just inquisitive,” says Mrs Elkins, “anyway, I will see you two kitties tomorrow morning after your human parents have caught their rather early flight from the airport. Bye kitties and you two have a wonderful time in The Indian Ocean and don’t worry about your pets who will be well looked after I can assure you.”

With that she turns around and Mary accompanies her out of the room. John goes into his bedroom to put his toothbrush somewhere and Gemma trots downstairs to kick the stuffing out of a toy dog with her back paws, one of the exercises she learned as part of an anger management course she took online. I retire under the newly covered blue chair where Whose Body is waiting. Before they go to bed, both John and Mary come over and stroke me, telling me they’ll miss me and they’ll be back very soon. I purr and miaow to indicate I will miss them too, which I will as they are both kind people with their hearts in the right place. From what I’ve heard of The Maldives, they’ll soon be underwater because of Climate Change and I hope that doesn’t happen when John and Mary are there.    

Our Cats in Amsterdam – 9

“Hello Freddie and Gemma, how are you, and who were your friends?”

“Hello Rufus, how’s the flying going? Are you going further?” I ask.

“I am increasing the distance a little, but I’m not obsessing too much about it. I’m not eating acorns before I go on the slide, only afterwards.”

“Hello squirrel,” says Gemma, “to answer your question, those were our friends who were telling us what we would be doing when the humans are away in terms of the cat sitter and when they’d be coming.”

“Hello, Gemma,” replies Rufus, “that’s the first time you’ve ever spoken to me and the first time you’ve ever looked at me without giving me the impression you want to eat me.”

“Because, Rufus,” says Gemma, “it is the first time I’ve looked at you and not wanted to eat you. I’ve decided that raw flesh is uncouth and unnecessary.”

“Oh, I see, “ says Rufus.

I nod my head – “Yes, Rufus, Gemma is becoming quite refined in her eating habits, I’ve even caught her reading a cookbook.”

“It was for baked goods, Rufus, I’ve often wondered how they create those flapjacks that are rectangular in shape and I found my answer in a book, but I didn’t attempt the recipe as I wouldn’t be able to grip the measuring cups the humans have.”

“Cooking is overrated,” replies Rufus, “I don’t believe I’ve ever eaten anything that’s been cooked by humans.”

“Flapjacks would be difficult for us to chew,” I say, “because they’re full of grains and we don’t have the teeth to process that kind of food.”

“I think we should be going, Freddie,” says Gemma, “I can see the male human walking along the street towards us and even from this distance he looks a lot happier than normal.”

“We should go inside,” I say to Rufus, “and we’ll see you soon. I’m pretty sure the humans will close all the windows when they go on holiday and so we may not be able to meet again for around 15 todays.”

“Yes,” replies Rufus, “I suspect you’re right, but your secret is safe with me, I won’t tell anyone.” With that, he ran up the tree trunk and disappeared into the branches.

Gemma and I skedaddled into the house and made ourselves scarce as we were sure the humans would be packing their bags for their holidays over the next few hours and wouldn’t want us to get under their feet. Gemma went downstairs for a nap and I went to read Whose Body by Dorothy L Sayers, a murder / mystery story not written by Agatha Christie. This had been a recent purchase by the male human who’d found the book on sale at the local bookshop and brandished it in the air when he arrived home as though he’d found a diamond at a cheap price.

Our Cats in Amsterdam – 8

“Can I have some books, please?” I ask politely, “a nice variety of books, fiction, geography, comedies, business, that sort of thing.”

“Yes, we’ve heard you’re a devoted reader, Freddie,” says Arabella, “so that’s all arranged.”

“Good,” I reply, “and no Virginia Woolf or Joseph Conrad, as they’re not my favourites. Perhaps Brave New World as we’re going to be going on an adventure?”

“We’ll surprise you, Freddie,” says Aubrey smiling, “you’ll have more books than you can possibly read.”

“I can read too,” says Gemma, “though I prefer military books myself, not the sort of books that Freddie likes reading.”

“You mean Sven Hassel?” asks Arabella.

“No, factual books about convoys across the Atlantic during WWII or about the Battle of Stalingrad, that sort of thing. Or about ancient battles such as Thermopylae where the traitor Ephialtes of Trachis betrayed those brave Spartans. ”

Aubrey looked at Arabella and nodded his head. 

“OK, factual military books for Gemma.”

“Yes, the more facts the better,” says Gemma, “Frederick doesn’t like facts as much as I do. He prefers fiction.”

“You must be descended from Thomas Gradgrind, even though he is fictional. Now what I want is facts is how Hard Times begins, and I think you should read that book Gemma, you’d enjoy it.”

“Yes, I will get round to it, Freddie.”

“I think that’s everything for now,” says Arabella, “we’ll come back on Sunday, after your humans have gone away, and we’ll be with Mrs Elkins, who is your cat sitter. We’ll share the details of your itinerary with you then.”

“How will we be transported to the destination?” I ask.

“There will be some time spent in cat carriers, but your minders will endeavour to let you out on the train from London, as you’ll be travelling in an area where there are few humans,” says Aubrey.

“I’m sure we’ll pretend to be asleep most of the time,” says Gemma, “especially when we’re in The Channel Tunnel and there’s not much to see. Can we make sure there are no dogs. I don’t like dogs, they’re so gullible and easily led.”

“The train sounds like a good time to meditate,” I say, “I’m looking forward to that already. And I like your joke about dogs being easily led.”

“Right, we should be going,” says Aubrey, “and we’ll see you in two days with Mrs Elkins.”

Aubrey and Arabella flew off and were soon replaced by Rufus who headed down his tree and jumped onto the fence.

Our Cats in Amsterdam – 7

“Will you remove the dye after the mission is completed?” I ask, “just so my humans will recognise me when I come back? I wouldn’t want them to think the cat sitter had been cruel to me whilst they were away. They’d never forgive themselves. If you could make it a light ginger colour, similar to saffron, that would be excellent, so I can be a similar colour to the robes Buddhist monks wear or most of them anyway.”

“We will remove the dye from your fur, Freddie,” says Aubrey, “and I think your parents will find some gifts for them and you will be left by the sitter, by way of thanks, and there will be no charge for the service.”

“That will please them,” says Gemma, “they’re always saying they’re short of cash and yet they’re able to afford holidays.”

“We should be grateful, Gemma,” I reply, “if they weren’t going away, we wouldn’t be going to Holland.”

“Yes, you’re right,” says Gemma, “besides they’re not short of money really, I’ve seen their bank accounts.”

“How did you find that out?” asks Aubrey.

“Well, when they’re logging in I simply watch and memorise their password, they don’t realise I can type quite well,” replies Gemma trying to look modest and failing. The wind was beginning to blow her fur and so I shifted position slightly to shield her.

“Oh, really,” says Aubrey looking at Arabella, “I will pass that on to the bosses, as that could be very useful to us, to know password information for any of the people we ask you to follow. The more information the better.”

“I can type with both paws at the same time,” continues Gemma, “I’ve been practising recently, to try and improve.”

“That’s good,” replies Arabella, “we will pass that information on to Henk who will be your crow contact over there. It sounds like we might be able to access their websites and bank accounts if there’s windows available we can see through and open.”

“Will you need a computer, Gemma, in the place where you’re staying?” asks Aubrey.

“Yes, that would be nice,” replies Gemma, “and then I can write down their information, usernames, passwords, answers to security questions, that sort of thing.” 

“Right, we’ll have to mask the computer information, the ip addresses, so people can’t trace you.”

Our Cats in Amsterdam – 6

“Well, Freddie and Gemma,” says Arabella, “does our little idea meet with your approval?”

“It does in principle,” I say, “but we need to know more about who we will be observing and whether they’re dangerous.”

We were sitting on the garden fence underneath the Scots Pine at the front of the property. Rufus was somewhere above us having his afternoon nap after playing in the children’s playground during the morning and exhausting himself on the slide. He was now jumping further than ever with a technique learned from ski jumping. He no longer ate heavily before his exercise and had a large lunch instead, another contributory factor to his afternoon sleep. He was a happy squirrel who hoped his tail would grow before winter came.

“Here’s the thing, Freddie and Gemma,” says Aubrey, “we don’t know for sure who we’re up against. There are a number of suspects, 5 – 10 in number, and we need your observational skills to find out who is doing what and where. You are so good at operating by stealth that we feel 100% sure you can help.”

“What are these humans doing that needs investigating?” asks Gemma.

“Gemma, we believe they’re siphoning off some diamonds from various shipments and giving them to people who will then buy guns with them on the black market. We believe these are conflict diamonds from Africa, but we might be wrong and in a sense it doesn’t matter because the less arms there are the better.”

“Wouldn’t it be better to stop manufacturing armaments and guns and bullets all together,” I say, “and then innocent people wouldn’t be killed and we could spend the money on worthwhile things that would benefit the whole of humanity like access to clean water and wells and affordable health care?”

“That’s true, Freddie,” says Arabella, “but unfortunately humans thrive on finding differences between themselves and other humans and causing conflicts between groups who fall into opposing camps for whatever reason they decide.”

“We should all try and get along in whatever way we can,” I say, “because we all inhabit the same planet. Anyway, I will stop complaining as we have a job to do here and hopefully catch some bad people who will be imprisoned.”

“Yes, essentially your job will be to follow people and see who they contact and if possible determine whether anything has been handed over. Fortunately, diamonds are a physical commodity that people have to see before deciding how much they’re worth so we know they’ll be moved around. The people involved will need quick answers and can’t send items via the mail for that reason.” Aubrey spoke with some authority and I could see why we were needed.

“Will we have to wear a disguise of any kind?” asks Gemma.

“I think we might have to dye Freddie a ginger colour after a few days as I expect someone will spot him hanging around outside the diamond dealerships, so a change of colour wouldn’t go amiss,” admits Arabella.

Gemma smirks and I giggle a little. 

Our Cats in Amsterdam – 5

“And who are the people on the other side?” I ask, “the people you need my help against?”

Arabella and Aubrey then go into a long explanation of my role and Gemma’s role too in the operation we’re about to undertake. It seems as though some people are doing some things they shouldn’t be doing with diamonds, guns, cannabis, and heroine, not all of which I am fully conversant with. Jane Eyre was a heroine and Charlotte Gray too, so I’m sure they want me to help due to my knowledge of books. 

“Would it be possible to meet Gemma?” asks Aubrey.

“She’s watching from the window,” says Jacqueline who gestures for her to come outside.

“Will Gemma be able to get through the gap?” asks Rob.

“She will,” I reply, “she’s undergone some lifestyle changes and is slimmer as a result.”

The crows nod in appreciation as Gemma slips through the gap the open window provides and climbs down the trellis in a practiced fashion.

“Hello,” says Gemma, “it’s good to see Reg, Ron, Rob, Seb, Stan, Sid, Jacqueline, and Barbara, but I don’t know those two crows.”

“Arabella,” says Arabella, “and Aubrey.” She gestures to Aubrey.

“Otherwise known as Aub,” I add in what I think is a helpful manner.

“Right, thank you, Freddie, Aubrey and Arabella, both very nice names.”

“We’re going to be replaced by stuffed toys,” I say, “and we’re going on an adventure. In the Low Countries where windmills and clogs come from. And Edam cheese and Gouda…”

“Thank you, Freddie, I know where the Low Countries are and what stereotypical objects people associate with them.” Gemma looks slightly miffed but then asks, “Has the rodent been stolen or the squirrel?”

“No, neither Rufus nor Holly has been stolen. We have to collect some information for Queen and Country.”

“Is that a magazine?” asks Gemma.

Aubrey patiently explained to Gemma what our holiday would involve in terms of time away from home.

“Where would we live, is there a cat hotel in Amsterdam?” she asks.

“We have a safe house where you and Freddie can stay,” replies Arabella.

“Well, I think Frederick and I should talk about this between ourselves,” replies Gemma, “and I would still like to know the details of what we’re expected to do in the city.”

“That’s fine,” says Arabella, “you two talk about things and we’ll be back this afternoon at 3pm to hear what you’ve decided and, if you’re interested, we’ll let you know what you’ll be doing over there in The Netherlands. My understanding is your humans will be packing tomorrow and leaving the following day.”

“That’s fine,” I say, “we’ll see you then.”

With that the crows fly off and leave Gemma and I sitting in the grass.

“It sounds like fun,” says Gemma, “although I’m not sure how the humans will react if they ever find out.”

“We should go inside and talk about this,” I reply.

“I think we should do it, Freddie, I think we should go to Holland. I just hope it won’t be dangerous.”

I agree with her and we climb back up the trellis and have a nap before meeting Arabella and Aubrey at 3pm.

Our Cats in Amsterdam – 4

“Well, that’s true, as usual you are right Freddie,” replies Reg, “so go ahead Arabella and Aubrey, let Freddie know what your suggestion is.”

“Thank you,” said one of the crows I don’t know, “I’m Arabella and this is Aubrey, although he prefers to be called Aub, don’t you Aub?”

“Either Aubrey or Aub is fine, Freddie,” says Aub, “it doesn’t matter, I know you will know me from the colour palette of my feathers, as you’re an expert by all accounts.”

I blush under my fur and stare at the walls of the house for about 10 seconds before I regain my composure and look at Aubrey.

“Well, thank you for your kind comments, Aubrey, what is your suggestion? My human parents are going away on holiday in two days according to their calendar, so I think you should be aware of that.”

“Well, Freddie,” says Arabella, “actually we know that and that’s why we’re here really.”     

The crows who knew me bob up and down on the surface of the grass as they shift uncomfortably on their hidden feet.

“You know that, have you seen their calendar as well?” I ask.

“Not in the same way as you have,” says Aubrey, “the thing is, Freddie old sport, we need you and are taking the first opportunity we can to use your skills.”

“Have you read The Great Gatsby?” I ask.

“I have yes, why, why do you ask?”

“You use the phrase, old sport, and Jay Gatsby uses the expression in that book.”

All the crows nod their heads in appreciation of my knowledge.

“You show your attention to detail right there,” said Aubrey, extemporising in an effective way, “and that’s why we need your help, because we have a knotty problem that needs solving. It’s on the continent, in Holland actually, and it will mean going over there for two weeks.”

“But John and Mary have arranged for a cat carer to come and sit with us,” I say, “and she would surely notice if we weren’t there.”

“Well, Freddie,” says Arabella, “the cat carer works for us and will look after Gemma while you’re away. She will bring a stuffed toy that looks like you and move you around each day, so that it looks like you’re there when you aren’t there.”

“A stuffed toy?” I giggle uncontrollably, “well it will be cheap to keep I suppose, but there’s one thing you should know. I want Gemma to come too as we’re a team, we work together.”

“Well, that’s something we hadn’t bargained for,” says Aubrey, “I suppose we can accommodate your wishes, Freddie.”

“You’d have to buy another stuffed toy,” says Sid, “to replace Gemma.”

“I think the budget can run to that,” says Arabella, “we’d still have the cat sitter come into the home and move both toys around.”

“We’d fly up to the windows and converse with the toys,” says Rob, “I think that would create a suitable impression or mirage for anyone who was watching.”

“Will someone be watching the house?” I ask, “when Gemma and I aren’t inside?”

“We don’t anticipate that happening,” says Arabella, “other than us of course or our friends, the people who are on our side.”

Our Cats in Amsterdam – 3

I scamper over the floor and jump onto the counter. I say ‘Good Morning’ to the primroses and all the cacti on the window sill. The previously grumpy primrose returns my greeting – it is now a lot happier as it has another primrose for company. The cacti from my first ever litter tray are now enjoying the southern aspect of the sill and bristle their sharp spines in greeting.

I insert my svelte figure into the gap left by the open window and then climb down the trellis, almost completely covered by the Lancashire Rose, who has been refining her climbing technique. I place my paws in the gaps she has kindly left for me and I descend onto the grass or rather descend into the grass as the humans have let it grow rather long. The wind blows my fur and the branches are swaying making slight swishing sounds by way of greeting. I thank them in my mind. 

I head towards Reg who is standing there along with Rob, Ron, Stan, Sid, Seb, Jacqueline, Brenda and two crows I don’t recognise. They look nice and have a mixture of dark-grey and deep-blue as the colour palette for their feathers. They look very smart and organised and might be from the crow police although I’m not sure where they keep their truncheons.. 

“Hello Reg, how are you? You have a welcoming committee by the looks of it,” I say smiling at all the crows. The grass has a slightly damp smell and its length means the crows appear to be floating on its surface like dark ducks on a pond covered with algae, which I saw recently on a nature programme. 

“Well, Freddie, your fame is spreading far and wide and has come to the attention of our friends,” replies Reg.

“They’re our eleventh cousins, as it happens,” says Rob.

“How do you know that?” asks Seb.

“I spoke to Great Uncle Angus about it,” replies Rob, “many years ago a lot of crows were in the middle of the country and wanted to move. Some, like our ancestors, moved north, but some other crows, such as our eleventh cousins here, moved south.”

“I see,” says Ron, “chapter and verse from our genealogist Rob. The point is though Freddie we trust these birds and they have a suggestion for you.”

Our Cats in Amsterdam – 2

I am dreaming about sitting on top of The Eiffel Tower contemplating my existence. As you can deduce, the height of the object I’m sitting on in my dreams is increasing and soon it will be a mountain although a very low mountain. This means my concentration is improving although I shouldn’t congratulate myself too much otherwise I will soon be back contemplating on the park bench when I’m asleep. Karma doesn’t like smugness or self-congratulation. The dream is complicated by my observance of my own journey up a large river towards a Black Hole. This is because I’ve been reading Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad. Joseph loved adjectives and descriptions the way Virginia Woolf loved adverbs and semi-colons. These descriptions make every scene like a large detailed painting which takes a long time to picture as it were. Joseph had obviously swallowed a Thesaurus at an early age as he repeats adjectives that mean the same thing or are very similar. This makes the reading very turgid although this could be intended to mimic the path of a dilapidated steamer up the mighty Congo river against the current. I should give him the benefit of the doubt. I should also try and produce abridged versions of these books for cats with short attention spans like Gemma. Heart of Darkness would be “Marlow recalls going up The Congo looking for Kurtz who dies after saying ‘The Horror, the Horror’. Lots of trees, locals, and ivory.”

Anyway, all this is swilling around in my dream – what I think of as the washing-machine of my subconscious mind – when there’s a tapping at the window. Back in the real world, I open my left eye to see Reg the crow waving at me to come outside.

Our Cats in Amsterdam – 1

Hello fellow book readers. 

It’s been 60 todays since I last wrote anything down that I wanted to share with you. I’ve been keeping my paw in by writing down what’s been happening with Gemma, the crows, Holly, my human parents, Rufus, and the library where the blue-haired librarian Angela now lets me read books on her desk while she’s working as long as I don’t create art on the photocopier. 

However, what I want to share with you now is an adventure I had with Gemma, from which we have just returned. I can’t tell you where this was as it’s a secret, but if you look at the title of the book you will find out, but I didn’t tell you, because I can keep a secret.

The action started 15 todays ago, when I was sitting on the stark, wooden chair in the kitchen. The humans, John and Mary, had been preparing to go to work for the last time for 14 todays, as they were going away on holiday. This meant that Gemma and I would be looked after by a kind lady who would come into our home and take care of us. As usual, I sat on the chair with a view of the inside of the fridge, so I could check to see whether there were any jackfruit inside, which could lead to some thuggery on the part of the humans. Anyway, there was no fruit and I could relax, which as usual meant that I fell asleep when the following happened…