The Cat Who Came in Off the Roof Read Online Free PDF Page A

some cat or other would be waiting.
    “Soon we’ll have to change our meeting spot,” the Tatter Cat said. “My kids are going to be born in a few days, I can feel it,and then I’ll have to stay close to the little monsters and won’t be able to come up on the rooftops. But that won’t matter, the message service will still work. All the cats have been informed. They know your human is waiting for news and they’re watching out for it. They’re keeping their eyes peeled and their ears open. They’ll pass it on.”
    “Where are you going to have your kittens?” Minou asked. “Have you found a good spot?”
    “Not yet,” the Tatter Cat said. “But I will.”
    ‘Can’t you move in with us? In the attic?”
    “Never!” the Tatter Cat cried. “I’ll never give up my freedom! And stop nagging.”
    “My human’s very nice,” Minou said.
    “I know. He’s a good human, as far as that goes… But I just don’t like the species. They’re not too bad until they grow up… some of them at least. Do you know Bibi?”
    “No.”
    “She’s drawing me,” the Tatter Cat said. “In detail! And she likes the way I look, even now, with this big gut. She thinks I’m beautiful! Can you believe it? Anyway, I’ll let you know where I am when the time comes. Somewhere in town, close to a radio.”
    “Why close to a radio?”
    “I like a bit of background music when I’m having kittens,” the Tatter Cat said. “It makes it easier. And more cheerful. Remember that, if it ever happens to you.”
     
    When Minou came home with some news story or other and told Tibble how she’d got it, he cried, “It’s all so organized! One cat passes it on to the next… it’s a kind of cat press agency.”
    “I’m not sure I like the sound of that,” Minou said hesitantly. “A cat press… it makes me think of a garlic press. Squished cat.”
    “Not a
cat-press
agency,” Tibble said, “a cat
press agency
”.
     
    The arrangement had saved him and as far as he was concerned things were going excellently.
    Sometimes, when he came in, he’d find Minou in a corner of the room. She’d be crouched down on the floor, dead still and staring at a hole in the skirting board.
    “Miss Minou! That’s one more habit you have to break! Lying in wait at a mouse hole! That’s not the kind of thing a lady does!”
    She stood up and tried to get back into his good books by rubbing her head against his shoulder.
    “That’s not right either,” Tibble sighed. “Real ladies don’t rub up against people. At most they rub them up the wrong way. I wish you’d stop doing all these catty things.”
    “Catty is not the correct word,” Minou said. “It’s called
cattish
.”
    “Fine, cattish. But I feel like you’re getting more and more cattish. It would be much better if you had more to do with people. Instead of just seeing cats all the time. You should go out on the rooftops less often and down on the street more—in the daytime.”
    “I don’t dare, Mr Tibble. I’m scared of people.”
    “Nonsense, people aren’t scary at all!”
    She looked at him for a moment with her slanting eyes, then turned away shyly.
    How can I say something like that? he thought. When I’m so shy and scared myself? When I prefer the company of cats?
    But he decided to stick to his guns.
    “What’s that I see!” he cried.
    Minou was washing herself. She’d licked her wrist and was rubbing behind her ear with the wet spot.
    “That takes the cake! Yuck!”
    “It’s just…” Minou stammered, “I was hoping it would make it go faster.”
    “Make what faster? Washing?”
    “No, that’s faster in the shower. I mean, turning into a cat. I still haven’t given up hope that… I’d just prefer to be a cat again.”
    Tibble slumped down on the couch.
    “Listen,” he said. “I wish you’d stop all this nonsense. You never
were
a cat. It’s all in your imagination. You dreamt it.”
    She didn’t answer.
    “Honestly,” Tibble went on.