Are We Friends Now?
Sir, aren’t you even a bit ashamed of yourself? said the customer to the butcher, peering over the glass counter. Can’t you see the dog is starving? Look at her, poor thing, all skin and bones! And you just shout at her, instead of helping.
I’m no charity, madam! barked the butcher. I sell meat for a living, thank you very much.
Well, you could give her a little scrap, couldnt you? Is it going to ruin you?
Oh sure, and maybe I’ll give you a free slice too, shall I? If youre so soft, you feed her yourself!
With that, the lady, quite convinced shed buy nothing from such a grump, marched right off to the next stall. The butcher glared at the small dog for scaring off his trade, then stumped out from behind the counter and headed her way.
Lets just say, he was not thinking warm and fluffy thoughts. But luckily, the little dog, Molly, hadn’t the faintest clue.
******
Every time Molly spotted a scruffy black cat on the high street, shed wag her tail like mad and dash straight after it, barking up a racket
Dont laugh, but her intentions were deadly serious.
Her lifes mission: to catch up, pin the cat down, and lick him silly from tip to tail.
Or, failing that, from the end of his tail to his ears. Depending on opportunity, of course.
Other dogs would no doubt have been horrified. Everyone knows cats and dogs arent meant to be friends.
But Molly didnt care a jot for canine convention. She thought this black cat with his mournful eyes was rather wonderful.
She recognised a kindred spirit straight away. Or felt one, anyway.
Yes, yes, I knowutter nonsense, cats and dogs are no relatives, so how can there be any kindred spirits? Thats the logic. Mollys logic, though, was entirely her own.
She was 1000% certain that friendship between cats and dogs was perfectly sensible. In fact, she reckoned she and the black cat had plenty in common. Take what?
Well, for starters, both were classic street urchinstossed out by their people and left to fend for themselves.
Molly had been shown the door once her family realised dog-walking involved, you know, actually going outside.
At first, shed mostly walked on little absorbent pads, but that wasnt a lifelong solution. Once Molly grew, so did the problem.
Her family debated it, lost sleep over what to do (not least because Molly whined by the front door every night), and finally came up with the obvious answer: drive young Molly as far as possible, let her out, give her a pat (of sorts) and a Go on, off you popand drive home with an unruffled conscience.
And that, dear reader, is how Molly became homeless.
Well, technically not even a proper dog yethalf a year isnt much for a canine.
As for the black cat, his story was much the same. Someone had adopted him as a kitten and spent the first months delighted at their tiny ball of fluff.
A year laterand you wont be shocked to hear thisthe ball of fluff had become, ominously, a cat.
He ate more, he grew fussier, and if short-changed on dinner, he howled endlessly. That, as far as his humans were concerned, was quite enough reason to cart him off one evening and dump him far from home.
Midnights best for getting rid of black cats, after all.
And so, by chance, Molly and the black cat ended up in the same little patch of London suburb.
Molly, ever the socialite, made it her full-time project to catch the dark cat.
Why, you ask? Well, obviously: to make friends! She had figured out that facing the daily struggle was easier with company.
Molly wasnt dafttwo have a better shot at survival than one.
Of course, the black cat had other ideas. He rejected all offers of camaraderie and streaked off whenever Molly rocketed towards him, barking and flapping her ears like an escaped tea cosy.
Catching him was no walk in the park. But Molly kept believing. Shed catch him, sooner or later.
And so, round and round the communal green she tore after her (future) furry mate, catching the attention and the smiles of passersby.
One day, though, the black cat seemed to have vanished. He wasn’t at the bins, nor by the swings, nor dozing in the tree where hed recently taken to brooding.
Nowhere at all.
Molly got thoroughly agitated, dashing back and forth, sniffing and peering everywhere.
Eventually, she caught a glimpsea little black shadow with whiskersnear the car park. Focusing her doggy determination, she dashed over to where the black cat was hiding under a parked Vauxhall. Barking, of course, so hed know it was her.
Not again, sighed Smokey (as he had been called once by people who clearly had little imagination). What is it with you? Cant you pester someone else? Hop it!
Smokey could technically stay putno way was a gangly half-grown dog getting him out from under there. But he imagined enduring that yappy racket all afternoonand fled.
Like a shot, he darted from under the car and down a deserted alley.
He checked back constantlywas Molly still giving chase? Of course she was. Molly was puffed, but she was on a mission.
Tongue lolling, Molly pelted after the cat, determined not to lose him.
And then
One moment, Molly was tailing black fur with those golden, exasperated eyes peeking over his shoulder.
The next, Smokeyvanished.
Molly skidded to a stop, confused. Shed just been therewhere on earth had the cat gone?
She edged forward and found, instead of feline footprints, an open drain cover.
Smokey wasnt magiched simply tumbled right in.
That ancient drain had been left open for days, though nobody had bothered to close it. Not even Molly. But the worst part? Smokey couldnt possibly climb out.
And there was nothing Molly could do. What could she dojump in after him?
Although
Perhaps this was her golden opportunitySmokey couldnt escape now! Finally, a proper chase.
Dont you dare! came a warning hiss from below. Smokey knew what was coming.
What, you can talk? exclaimed Molly, tail wagging in delight. For a minute, I thought you just glared.
Hilarious.
So, erhow do we get you out of there? Any ideas?
None that dont involve a big sigh and Why me? You could just leave me alone for once, couldnt you?
I only wanted to be friends, sighed Molly.
Youre too young. And honestly, dogs and catswhat would the neighbours think?
Never mind them. We could be the first!
Honestly. Go away. Let me have a bit of peace. Alone.
Are yougiving up, Smokey? Molly seemed truly alarmed.
Not till today, Smokey sighed. But now, apparently, its time. And all thanks to you.
Molly fretted. She really hadnt intended this outcome.
Pacing, she muttered, Rightneed a rescue plan. If people come and shut the drain lid, that’s itno more Smokey. Must fix this. FAST.
Oi, Smokey! You okay down there? You still with us?
What do you want now?
Juststay put, alright? Ill sort it. Ill rescue you!
Oh, save me a bit of dignity and just go. Let me end in peace, no more wild schemes.
Molly surveyed the area. On one side was the communal green where theyd run from; on the other, the rowdy Saturday market.
Where there were people.
Justhang tight, cat! No dying yet. Ill be back! barked Molly as she dashed off to find help.
*****
Arriving at the market, Mollys hopes soaredit was market day, and the place was bustling.
Sadly, nobody noticed her small and muddy self.
She zipped up to this person, then that one, but Londoners had eyes only for price tagsGod forbid they overpay for a roast.
One chap even gave Molly a gentle boot for nipping his trouser leg. Ouch.
Her grand plan crumbledwas it so shocking? Humans only ever seemed to care about themselves.
Pausing beneath a red awning, Mollys eyes settled on a burly butcher, haloed by joints and steak, scowling grandly.
A sign perched nearbydog in red circle, line through it.
Didnt mean a thing to Molly, but she got the sense this man might, in theory, be able to help. She trotted over.
The butcher was busy weighing a bit of sirloin for a customersounding less Santa, more Scrooge.
This one do, madam?
Looks alright… How much does it weigh, please? I need exactly a kilo.
Thats one-point-one-two kilos. Take it or leave it. Cant be chopping off crumbs all day.
At just that moment, Molly appeared at the counter and peered up at him.
Where did YOU come from? the butcher thundered. Clear off, scruffy!
Sir, reallylook how thin she is, pleaded the customer. Shes hungry.
I sell meat for a living, not charity! thundered the man.
You could spare a morsel
Not likely! Off you go! he said, waving his apron like a flag of war.
He even stamped his foot, as if she was some stubborn fox.
Well, keep your rotten beef! the woman huffed, storming off with dignity intact.
The butcher, puce with fury, glared at Molly as if shed put him out of business single-pawed.
Next, in a fit of exasperation, he stalked around the counter, seized Molly by the scruff and, with a professionals grip, carried her outside.
Molly realised then: this hero wasn’t planning on saving anyone.
Within minutes, he reached the bins, popped open a lid, andplonk!dropped Molly inside. A quick look round, lid shut, and off he strode, wiping his hands.
So much for helping the cat Molly sighed, scanning the empty, smelly bin.
At least the bin was nearly emptyotherwise, swimming in old tea bags would be a new low.
Still, climbing out was another matter. The sides were way too high.
All Molly could manage was to bark at the top of her lungs (or whatever was left), hoping against hope someone might investigate.
She barked till she was hoarse. Then she slumped in defeat, all out of bark.
*****
Jamie! Still glued to those computer games? I swear, you havent even touched your toast. Didnt we talk about this two days ago?
Jamie swivelled round in his computer chair, eyes half-closed.
Mum, Ill eat after Ive finished this level. I just need to
Always with the games. You know, since we moved, youve not left your room!
Yeah, Mum. My friends are all back home, he muttered. I dont know anyone here.
Jamie, Ive explaineda good job offer is a good job offer. Dad didnt get that sort of salary in Leeds. Youll make friends here too, if youd give it a chance.
Hmph.
Why not go outside? There are kids at the play park. Say hello! Oh, and take out the rubbish while youre at it. And nip to the marketfor onions. We need two kilos. Im making stew.
Mum, the bins and the market are miles apart. What do you want firstthe rubbish or the onions?
There are bins by the market. We walked past them yesterday, remember? Bin the bag there, buy onions, easy as that, my boy.
Jamie got dressed, grabbed the bin bag, pocketed some cash, and trudged out.
He planned to blitz his list and get home fast. What else was he supposed to do? New town, no friends, school didnt start for weeks.
He spent most days battling pixels and chatting to mates online. They asked when hed be backJamie hadnt the heart to admit he probably never would.
No one had cared what he thought about the move. They just packed up and went. No wonder he was glum. Parents never seem to get that friends are gold, and worth far more than an upgraded salary.
And, if were being honest, Jamie missed Lucy Silk the most. Theyd sat together at schooland he might even have fancied her, just a bit. Hed meant to ask her to the fair this summer. No chance now.
Jamie passed an open drain, raising an eyebrowone careless step in the dark and youd be lost. Along the alley, end of the market, he dumped the bag
and then he heard a faint whimper. He paused, looking round.
No one by the bins. No one in the alley.
Meaningthe sound came from inside a bin.
What on earth? Jamie muttered.
With a sigh he checked one bin, then another, then a thirdby the fourth, hed really rather have been anywhere else.
But when the whining grew louder, he lifted the lid. Inside, one rather defeated-looking young dog.
Mollys tail thudded hopefully; she barked feebly, voice barely holding together.
Blimey Jamie gasped. Who the heck would dump you here?
Minutes later, the rescue was complete. Jamie was smeared with bin juice, but hardly gave it a thoughthe was preoccupied.
What now? Cant just leave you here, can I? Someone might chuck you back in!
Molly scampered about, tail wagging, looking Jamie in the eye. Alright then sighed Jamie.
Jamie remembered his mum had once suggested getting a dog to cheer him upbut hed refused. She probably wouldnt mind now, he reckoned. He hoped.
As he reached out, Molly trotted a few steps away.
What, you want me to chase you? Alright, alrightcome here.
Molly let him get close, then scampered on a few metres. This stop-start routine led Jamie toyou guessed itthe open drain.
Really? Jamie said, suspicious. You led me to THIS?
Molly walked right to the edge and peered down. Jamie, intrigued, crouched next to her and peeped inside.
Well I never! Jamie whistled. One in the bin, one in the drain! As rescue jobs go, you two are making me work for it.
See, Smokey! Molly yapped, delighted. Didnt I say Id rescue you? Now this boyll get you right out!
Doubtful, grumbled Smokey. Hes just a kid. Like you. If he climbs in, hell be stuck too.
Hell manage. Hell manage!
Jamie, oblivious to their cat-dog banter, lowered himself into the drain, managed to scoop Smokey up, and placed the cat gingerly onto the pavement. Molly immediately set about giving Smokey the worlds sloppiest washand was rewarded with a paw to the nose.
Oi! Steady! I did just save you, mind! yelped Molly.
If it wasnt for you, Id never have ended up down there, thanks. Now, if you dont mindso long!
Hows that fair? Where are you going?
Away. And do be a dear and do not follow me. Im not above using claws.
Smokey set off toward his usual patch of grass, but Mollys barking stopped him. Jamie, meanwhile, was still in the drainhaving misjudged the climb out, he couldnt quite reach.
Why me, Smokey groaned, turning back.
Smokey and Molly then held a tense conference about how best to extract a boy from a Victorian drain. In the end, Smokey spotted a council worker with a broom about a hundred yards off, and the two animals bounded over, determined to get through to him.
Molly barked. Smokey meowed. The binman stared at them like they were auditioning for Britains Got Talent.
Eventually, when both clamped onto his jeans and pulled him toward the alley, the penny dropped.
Five minutes later, thanks to the rescue effort, Jamie was free.
What were you doing down there, son? the binman asked, bemused.
Rescuing a cat, Jamie grinned.
This one? The man eyed Smokey, who was still keeping an anxious watch. And you found them both?
Yes. Molly here led me right to Smokey. Im hoping Mum lets me keep them both.
Brilliant, said the binman, ruffling Jamies hair. Best of luck convincing your mum.
When Jamie got home, both parents were inthe kitchen smelling of everything *but* stew (onion shopping had fallen by the wayside).
They took in the sight: their son, filthy, flanked by a small dog and a black cat who looked, for once, rather nonchalant.
Jamie, I sent you for onions and youve brought homethese? Mum began, bewildered. Care to explain?
Jamie smiled, and told the whole story. From start to finish. He told it so well, even Smokey and Molly listened intently.
And if you expect the usual, Take them both back, absolutely not, then you clearly havent met Jamies parents. Not a bit of it.
While Jamies dad braved the market for onions, Jamie and his mum gave the animals a good wash (an adventure in itself). By suppertime, both Molly and Smokey were stretched out on Jamies bed, clean, full, andfor oncehappy.
Afterwards, Jamie whispered a secret to his new friends: This is your real home now. No ones ever throwing you out again.
As they say, Every cloud has a silver lining. Molly and Smokey had found a family at last.
Were friends now, arent we? Molly asked, as Jamie and his parents went to bed.
Friends, friends, Smokey yawned, impossibly wide. Sleep now, will you? What a day!
Yeah, sighed Molly contentedly.
In moments, she was out like a light, curled up with Smokey. Jamie was beside them.
And you can be sure Jamie never wasted another day glued to a screenhe had real, loyal friends now. The best kind there is. Friends who would never abandon him, and whom hed never abandon either.
Oh, and by the waywhen Jamie grows up, he wont become a computer programmer as he once planned, but a rescue worker. He decided that the day he saved Molly and Smokey.
Funny how things turn out, isnt it?
