by Rolli –
The cat lay dozing at the top of the REALLY HIGH staircase. He was the roundest, fattest thing you ever saw, and looked like–
“He swallowed a beach ball,” thought Kether, as she tiptoed up the stairs. It was Kether’s job to bring the cat his breakfast every morning–these dry brown things that looked like little doughnuts, and smelled just awful. “Yum! Here’s your doughnuts,” she’d say, trying to hide the disgusted look on her face. “What a lucky puss you are!”
Today, though, halfway up the stairs, something unexpected happened. Turning over in his sleep, the fat cat came a bit too close to the edge of the top step. He wobbled back and forth for a moment, and then, still dozing….
WENT TUMBLING DOWN THE STAIRCASE!
Kether leaped out of the way just in time. Turning around, she saw the cat roll to the bottom of the stairs, zip across the floor, burst right out the front door … and keep on going! He was like some fuzzy tumbleweed, some purring avalanche, some bowling ball with paws.
The girl dropped the dish of food she was carrying, and ran after him. As she raced along, she sang:
Roly-Poly Fat Cat
pretty please come back, back.
I’ll fill your dish with cream,
if you’ll wake up from your dream.
I’ll fill it up with fish,
if you’ll only grant my wish.
Just pretty please come back, back,
Roly-Poly Fat Cat!
But he didn’t! Purring in his sleep, he just went right on rolling. He was like some runaway plum, some frisky armadillo. He whizzed past a lamppost, swung around a corner, and SLAMMED – right into the Letter Lady!
“Eeee!” she cried, letters and packages flying. And from every witch direction – popping out of windows, swooping down on broomsticks, nasty old ladies grabbed letters by the handful, ripping them open with their sharp teeth, and long fingernails. One of the rottenest things that witches do is steal other people’s mail, so they never get the spy goggles or trading cards they ordered, and waited forever for. It’s terrible.
With every last bit of mail snapped up, there was nothing for the Letter Lady to do but to join in the chase, and try to stop anyone else from being knocked over like tenpins. So down the street she went, Kether leading the way. And as they raced along, they sang –
Roly-Poly Fat Cat
pretty please come back, back.
I’ll fill your dish with cream,
if you’ll wake up from your dream.
I’ll fill it up with fish,
if you’ll only grant my wish.
Just pretty please come back, back,
Roly-Poly Fat Cat!
But he didn’t! On he went, like some fluffy cannonball, some whiskery missile. Left and right, women, men and children leaped out of the way, screaming.
Now, there are some people who make their living by walking other people’s dogs. You’ll see them, sometimes, trotting down the street, holding a dozen different leashes, sometimes, struggling to keep a dozen mutts under control. Well, it just so happened that one of these Dog Walkers was crossing the street. And when the Dobermans, Pugs, Retrievers and Chihuahuas saw the fat cat whirling past, the Dog Walker – well, he didn’t say anything (he was too horrified) but the look on his face said Oh NOOOOOOOOOO! The look on the dogs’ faces, though, said Oh YES! All at once, woofing up a storm, they took off as fast as paws could take ’em after the cat. The poor Dog Walker, still holding tight onto the leashes, flew behind them, in mid-air, like a miserable piece of string. Frightened as he was, he still joined Kether and the Letter Lady as they sang:
Roly-Poly Fat Cat
pretty please come back, back.
I’ll fill your dish with cream,
if you’ll wake up from your dream.
I’ll fill it up with fish,
if you’ll only grant my wish.
Just pretty please come back, back,
Roly-Poly Fat Cat!
But he didn’t! In fact, he rolled faster than ever, like some furry melon, some snoring meteor! Heavens! At the far end of the street was a long lineup of people, dying to see the latest flick, Revenge of the Banana Man. But all they saw, that day, I’m afraid, was a very plump cat heading RIGHT FOR THEM! Whammo! Down they went, one after another, like dominoes. And it didn’t stop there. Still rolling, still sleeping, the cat smacked into a delivery boy (the pizza never did come down), crashed into a jogger (she flipped three times in the air, landed on her feet, and kept on running), and smashed through a tall wedding cake that two men, now covered with frosting, had been carrying out of a shop.
So now all of these people, besides Kether, the Letter Lady, and the Dog Walker (there must’ve been a hundred of ’em, in total), found themselves chasing after the animal. And as they ran, they sang:
Roly-Poly Fat Cat
pretty please come back, back.
I’ll fill your dish with cream,
if you’ll wake up from your dream.
I’ll fill it up with fish,
if you’ll only grant my wish.
Just pretty please come back, back,
Roly-Poly Fat Cat!
But he still didn’t! He didn’t stop, no – but he wasn’t moving as fast as before, either. You see, at the end of White Street (which was the street they were on), there’s a VERY TALL HILL. And as the cat rolled up the hill, he started going slower and slower. Hills are like that. They’re hard to run up, too, as the people noticed. Soon they went from jogging to walking to bending over, with their hands on their knees, quite out of breath. As Kether flopped onto the ground, exhausted, she looked up. She looked up, and grinned. For the Roly-Poly Fat Cat, coming, finally, to the top of the hill, slowed to a perfect stop.
“Finally,” said Kether, laying her head in the grass, resting. But then –
“Oh no!” cried the Letter Lady, pointing a finger. A hundred faces looked up; a hundred faces frowned. For the Roly-Poly Fat Cat, turning over in his sleep, inched a bit too close to the edge of hill. And he started to roll back down.
“Here we go again,” sighed Kether, rising to her feet, leaping out of the way just in time.
***
Much, much later, long after the sun had gone down, Kether walked through her front door. She had scrapes on her legs, mud on her nose, and tomato sauce in her hair – but she was happy. For in her arms, at last, was the fat cat, still quietly sleeping. As softly as she could, she crept up the stairs. As gently as possible, she lay the napping animal onto his pillow, next to his food dish. Then she walked down the hall, into her bedroom, and flopped onto her bed.
At the top of the stairs, purring sweetly, the Roly-Poly Fat Cat turned over in his sleep. He rolled off the cushion, down the steps, and out the front door….
the end
Question Time
1. What was Kether’s job every morning?
2. Where did the fat cat fall down from?
3. What happened to all the mail when the fat cat ran into the Letter Lady?
4. Where did Roly-Poly Fat Cat finally stop rolling?
5. What happened after Kether went to bed?
