It's Sunday Selfie time....   

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............... and now it's Sunday Story Time!

It is with Great Sadness that we learnt of the passing of a wonderful and much loved figure in the cat blogging world, Mr Buttons, from the Timmy Tomcat blog. This weeks post is dedicated to his memory ........

This weeks story is.............. So-Far, So Good!

"Mrs Hudson!

Can you hear me?

MRS HUUUUUUDSON!!"

Mrs Hudson trotted into the bedroom, hand on chest and let out a rasping cough. "What is it my dear, Erin, sounds like the place is on fire... again. You not been experimenting have you, with that miniature barbecue?"

"Um no. And that last fire was absolutely nothing to do with me. I just happened to be passing the fondue set and the mouse, that happened to be dipped in cheese, spontaneously combusted! Very strange and I dare say much akin to that 16th century Mayor in Warsaw, most odd in deed."

"Hmm," said Mrs Hudson. "I dare say but who lit the fondue set is what I want to know? I think you have a ghost, or two even!"

Erin's whiskers quivered slightly, and she reddened just a bit in the cheeks. "Gosh its hot in here," she said. "Lets not discuss such minor things as singed wall paper and whiskers. Once the decorator has finished, and the builder, no one will notice at all. Heck, the singed edge to the hole in the ceiling gives a very rustic native English country peasant feel to it. And when it rains you can nip up and pop an umbrella through the hole."

Mrs Hudson peered up and shuddered. "Well I'm not sure I fancy that. That roof is a fair way up, Erin, and you know how wobbly I am without my broom or stick to keep me upright. Maybe them ghosts can do it, to earn their keep?"

Erin flinched at the mention of the broomstick, and an image of Mrs Hudson flying around the great hall with an umbrella. And it had occurred to her that maybe the hole that had appeared soon after the fire was in fact for Mrs Hudson's cauldron!

"You knows what they say about the devil and idle hands, well them ghosts have too much time and are playing havoc with the comestibles in the pantry and fridge. In fact just the other day they had half a pint of cream and a huge slice of that really nice Seville Premium Canadian Cheddar with Nip! Without so much as a by your leave! You must tell me where it's from so I can nip over and get some more."

"Strangely enough that would be Canada, Mrs Hudson, but I shall have it sent in rather than risk you flying there yourself! Heck you'll be frozen on that distance and probably fall in the drink, and then where would I be, huh? Down one cheese supply and a housekeeper, that's for sure."

"Well I guess I can manage a short hop across the moat to the shops, and the moat isn't that deep if you're worried about it. And it could be a great way to meet the Kraken too. You know she's not shown herself since I came. Don't suppose she's put out do you Erin, having another woman about the place? You do know her better than I."

"Ooh I dare say she'll let you know if you do anything wrong, but unless you start dropping potato peelings in the moat you'll be all right. She keeps a clean moat you know, very house proud. Used meter readers' bikes at one end, mailman bikes at other and sundry others in the middle. She leaves the empties out for the dairymaid on the drawbridge on a Tuesday, so she doesn't get that white apron covered in slim. Very thoughtful.

Now to business. Mrs Hudson, I need to call you something else as this all sounds way to formal, and we don't stand on ceremony here. Well not unless her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II drops by, or one of our esteemed colleagues from the blogging world, then it's hoist the jolly roger and.... Ooops, sorry got carried away there. For a moment I was back in that dream. Seemed so real too. Anyways, we hoist the Union Jack and play a fanfare and put the best cream bowls on the table."

"Well my sweet, you could call me Mrs H, if you wish but I don't like being called H. Makes me sound like something from the periodic table."

"Gas?" Erin said, with here thoughtful expression.

"Oh my dear, Erin that would be all that cream you had. I'll get you a nice nip tea to sooth your tummy."

"Not me, Mrs H, that's what H stands for in the periodic table, Hydrogen. A very dangerous gas. Like the stuff from Brussels sprouts?!" Erin sighed and rolled her eyes. It was clearly going to be one of those days.

"Oh I see. Well if you want to call me Mrs Hydrogen then you can but make sure there are no naked flames nearby, I do use hair spray, you know!" She gently teased the bun on her head with a small crochet needle she produced from her apron pocket. "I think maybe best we stick to Mrs H, or Mrs Hudson. Thank you for asking though, you are very considerate. Now what was it you wanted, dear?"

"You know, Mrs H, I had forgotten all about that. Yes what I had wanted to discuss was this mouse. Well it's not here at the moment but I have to report that we have a mouse, and a fast one at that. We need a concerted effort to get this blighter as no matter what I do I just CANT kill the thing! We need to drop everything and concentrate on this mouse. If you can find them ghosts, get them to haunt the mouse holes or I'll have them de-robed... or is it de-sheeted?"

"Oh dear, Erin dear, that isn't good at all. I'm not keen on mice at the best of time but having a supersonic mouse sound a tad scary.  Whats it look like and I'll get the broom and see if I can flush it out for you."

"Well, that's the strange thing, it isn't quite like any mouse I've seen before, more the essence of a mouse. Maybe it's a mouse from the future or some genetic experiment gone wrong. Could have eaten too much GM food! Whatever the cause, this princess is going to do the only thing I can, when I find it, and that's jump on it!" With that Erin puffed out her chest arched her back and trotted to the scratching post and sharpened her claws.

"Right, to work. I'll meet you back here in ten, no twenty minutes, and well crack on and find it. Bring lots of mouse hunting kit and with any luck I can have it for a mid morning snack, with fondue!"

"Shall I pack a picnic and have lashings of lemonade for you too, dear?" Mrs Hudson asked whilst taking notes in a small note pad she'd taken from her apron. I think there is still some nip smoked,  mouse tongue deli meat in the pantry?"

"Hmm as tempting as that sounds, Mrs H,  I think the lemonade bubbles will be too much after the running around. Maybe just some cheese and crackers for afters?"

"OK, Erin dear, I'll have it ready." With that Mrs Hudson turned on her heals and, inserting the small pencil into her bun, tottered off to the kitchens.

Some time later...........

"Right, after that extra nap I'm raring to go. Mrs H, you fly around and start beating things and flush the critter out. I'll patrol the skirting and try to stop it getting to mouse holes No.1 to No.3. Hole No.4 is closed due to pest problems so no need to look there. No sign of those ghosts though. Did you manage to get hold of them?"

Mrs Hudson looked apologetically and pointed to the candlestick telephone on the sideboard. "I did try Erin, dear, but the operator was uncertain how to connect me. She did suggest sending via SMS, Spirit Message Service but I cant find a button on our telephone?

"Hmm I will send a missive to Mr Bell on that point, I do rather think he's sold us short there. I shall have words with our ghosts, when they next show up and request they fill out a visitors card with number. Right you start sweeping that side and I'll do the other, there's not a moment to lose, I have cream and cheese to save and a nap to take in twenty minutes!"

Mrs Hudson did a wobbly curtsy and started beating the furniture and sweeping the broom vigorously around her head and body like a demented ninja. "Mrs H, please, you must ease off those late night martial arts movies, you could damage something not to mention hurt yourself. Plus, and I may have forgotten to have mentioned, it was a mouse and didn't fly that high, nothing higher than waist level. Well bar for a piece of fine cord that it seemed to be dragging with it."

"Oooh I see, thanks lovie, I'll sweep lower then." And with that Mrs H started to swish the broom around the curtains and under the chairs.

"There it is! Quick keep swishing Mrs H, and I'll pounce!" Erin flew through the air at the strange brown and fluff tailed mouse that was now darting back and forwards, in a manner that almost looked like it was chasing the broom rather than fleeing from it.

Around and around the trio went, Mrs H beating and swishing, Erin jumping and striking and the mouse like beast, whipping backwards and evading every blow. After ten minutes all three collapsed in a heap on the cold flagstone floor. Erin and Mrs Hudson sat catching their breath, and stared at the mouse, who seemed surrprisingly calm about the whole thing, if a little ruffled around the tail fur.

"Psst, psst. Mrs H, I think we have it worn out. I bet it cant take much more. Look this is what we need to do....." Erin whispered in Mrs Hudson's ear, having first moved to one side the bun which had slipped over it. She nodded at Erin and then went to get up.

"Oh I am tired, Erin dear. Why not stop for lunch maybe? I'll just nip out for some cheese and crackers and a some nip tea."

"You know that is an excellent idea. In fact lets forget about mice altogether. I do have far betting things to be getting on with, the accounts and what not." With that Erin got up and headed out the room.

Mrs Hudson got to her feet. Just as she went to turn towards the door, she grabbed the broom and, giving a rather strange country accent version of a ninja wail, raised it up as though to hit the beastie.

Erin, who had not left the room but had actually ducked behind a chair, leaped out in the direction of where the mouse had been sat, claws out, a sure fire catch if ever there was one. Of course life isn't that easy in the palace, and just as the broom swept on its upswing, so too did the beastie..... attached to it's cord!

Erin plooped to the floor and did a pawbreak turn and looked at the mouse dangling by the cord, and then Mrs Hudson. Mrs Hudson, who had also staring at the mouse, turned to look at Erin. "Princess, do you think it's dead?"

"Mrs H, that's not a mouse at all. That, my good housekeeper is what we in the trade call a Foxifur Kittenator  from Neko Flies! In fact that is the wonderful gift I had from our pals, at Dash Kitten, in New Zealand.  I should have realised the connection. Every time I spotted it was when you were cleaning. No wonder I couldn't catch it, despite which room I spotted it in, as you went out with it in the broom! I did wonder where it had gone."

"So it won't be breeding then, Erin, that's a relief. What with the ghosts moving in, we don't need any extra mouths. On the other hand....."

Mrs Hudson. I think the least said about this, to anyone, the better. I don't want it getting out that I couldn't catch a toy! Now what about a nice cup of nip tea?"


The End