Kids on Fire: A Free Excerpt From It’s A Catastrophe

For Disney story lovers everywhere!

Think Cats & Dogs meets Toy Story…

Warning! Contains fur-raising adventure, wacky characters, laugh out loud comedy, and heart-warming drama.

The cats at Briarswood Cottage are lucky. After being rescued from the local Cats’ Home by Ma Katz, they live out their days in luxury under the watchful eye of Buster, the mogfather. But all that’s about to change…

When the local mayor announces that the cat population is spreading a deadly disease, their lives are in mortal danger. There’s no time to paws! Somehow, Ma’s moggies have to organize all the neighbourhood cats to unite as one, getting their claws stuck in to prove their innocence and save each other from certain death.

Can they put aside jealous rivalry and tomcat turf wars to work together as a team and save catkind from extinction?

It’s a Catastrophe is a hilarious hairball of a read for ages 8 to 108!

And here, for your reading pleasure, is our free excerpt:

It’s a Catastrophe

Sibel Hodge

Chapter 1

‘Are we all ready? They’ll be here any minute.’ Buster, the huge tabby cat studied each of the other cats carefully. It wasn’t any surprise Buster was the mogfather of the Katz Crew. He was bigger and tougher than all of them, and he’d spent enough years fending for himself to be streetwise. He had a scar running from his forehead to his nose on the right side of his face, and the tip of his left ear was missing, giving a hint of the battle scars left over from previous fights. But Buster didn’t need to use force to keep these moggies in check; his gruff, gravelly voice could usually kick them into line if they misbehaved.

‘Where’s Dog and Piggy got to?’ His second in command, Aslana, frowned. She was a tiny female tabby with a big heart. The surrogate mother to all the waifs and stray cats who’d ended up in the Katz household over the years. Aslana had been born with a scarred patch of skin above her right eye where her fur didn’t grow.

Most of the Katz Crew had congregated in the huge garden at the back of the house and were lounging around on the patio, waiting with excitement for the arrival of a new addition to the household. Aslana put a paw over her eyes to shield them from the sun’s glare as she searched in the distance for the missing cats. At the bottom of the garden, she could see the wooden fence that marked the end of Ma Katz’s land and led to the woods beyond. To her right was a rickety wooden fence that was in need of repair and separated Ma and Pa’s house from their neighbour, Giles, and his dog Bess, a very tomboyish English bulldog. To the left of the garden was a large fishpond, and behind that was a sprawling wild field that was also part of Ma and Pa’s land. On the other side of this lay a neighbouring field belonging to Farmer Bellamy.

‘Piggy’s probably talking to a rock again,’ sighed Cleo, a Siamese cat with a brown face, brown socks, and piercing blue eyes. ‘Piggy’s such a thickie!’ Cleo rolled her eyes and tutted.

Tyger, the Bengal cat with a posh English accent and the longest legs and eyelashes you’ve ever seen on a feline, said, ‘No, she is most certainly not a thickie. Piggy is just…’ Tyger searched for the right word to use. ‘She’s just a teensy smidgen slower than the rest of us. Don’t be so mean, Cleo. Piggy can’t help it. You know it’s because of her accident.’ She narrowed her huge owl-like green eyes at Cleo.

Cleo pulled an oh-yeah-you-think-you-know-everything face back. ‘Accident? She got her head stuck in a hole in the wall, that’s all. Big deal!’

‘What do you know about it, anyway? It was before you got here,’ Tyger said, adjusting the pink, diamond-studded collar around her neck with her paw. ‘It could have been really nasty. The hole was so tight it was squeezing off the oxygen to her brain. It was only because Ma heard her crying and got to her quickly that there wasn’t more brain damage.’

‘Now stop it, you two,’ Aslana ordered them. ‘We don’t want Ma and Pa to see any bickering between us when they come back with the new cat. And don’t go poking fun at those who are afflicted.’ She pointed at Cleo. ‘How would you like it?’

‘Piggy’s not afflicted, she’s just a dunce,’ Cleo said. ‘And she’s not safe to be around.’

‘She’s just accident-prone, that’s all,’ Buster said. ‘She’s got a kind heart, and that’s the most important thing.’

‘I wonder what sort of cat we’re getting this time,’ Smoky said, thoughtfully tapping his mouth with his paw. Smoky was a long-haired grey with black whiskers and a black V-shaped patch of fur under his mouth. He was the Captain Jack Sparrow of the cat world.

‘Oh, God, I hope it’s not another girl!’ Cleo glared at Tyger, letting out a begrudging purr. ‘There are enough HMCs round here already. We definitely need more toms in the crew.’

‘What’s an HMC?’ Fluffy asked with lazy amusement as he lay on his stomach, chin resting on his paws, watching the eruption of a catfight between Tyger and Cleo. He’d got his name because he was a big, fluffy Norwegian Forest cat with a huge furry mane. Unfortunately, Fluffy wasn’t exactly a cool boy’s name, and since he was always trying to be the most popular tomcat with the ladies, he insisted on being called Tyson, which he thought was much more macho.

‘Fluffy, you shouldn’t encourage Cleo,’ Aslana said.

‘Stop calling me Fluffy!’ Fluffy leaped up into a sitting position, glaring. ‘How many times have I told you? I want to be called Tyson!’

Buster tried to suppress a snigger. He even turned it into a cough when Fluffy/Tyson glared at him, but it was no use, everyone had heard it. ‘Are you sure you wouldn’t rather be called The Cat Formerly Known as Fluffy?’ Buster grinned.

‘Ha ha, very funny. NOT!’ Fluffy’s top lip curled up with anger. Just because I’d rather party with the kitties than want to be a mogfather, he thinks he can ridicule me! So what if I’m a lover, not a fighter! he thought to himself. If lions can mate up to fifty times a day, why shouldn’t I? After all, us domestic cats are related to lions, it’s a known fact.

‘Well, I think Tyson suits you much better.’ Cleo blew Fluffy a kiss. She could recognize a likeminded ally when she saw one, and she wanted to be on Fluffy’s good side if he ever got to be in charge of this bunch of idiots. She turned her attention to Tyger, turning up her nose. ‘Anyway, an HMC is a High-Maintenance Cat, which is exactly what Tyyyyyyyger is.’ Cleo drew out Tyger’s name sarcastically. ‘She’s always poncing and preening and playing with that diamond collar, thinking she’s above everyone else, Miss Hoity Toity.’

‘Ha! You can talk.’ Tyger snorted at Cleo, paw on hip. ‘You’re a big glamour puss yourself. I saw you last week crushing up rose petals to use as lipstick.’ Tyger glanced down at Cleo’s red claws. ‘And what have you been using for nail varnish, hmmm?’

Cleo took a step closer to Tyger, getting in her face. ‘Vole’s blood,’ she hissed. ‘Although Tyger blood might be a nicer shade.’ She flashed her white, pointy teeth at Tyger.

‘Enough!’ Buster had been watching this exchange carefully. Although he often sat in the background silently, and appeared not to notice what was going on, that was part of his good leadership skills. There wasn’t much that got past him, and he was actually observing and taking in everything, stepping in to stop any disagreements only when it was really necessary. He raised his paw to silence them, lashing his tail against the grass impatiently. ‘If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all.’

‘Hear, hear.’ Aslana nodded.

‘What would really be a great addition to the group is a cat who’s a human whisperer,’ Smoky said. ‘I’ve been reading about them on the Internet.’

Luckily for Smoky, Ma and Pa left their Internet connection and laptop on all night so when their owners were fast asleep, catching zzzzzzzzzzzs, Smoky was indulging his passion for surfing the Net, playing online Soduku and Dungeons and Dragons, and enjoying Pa’s subscription to the Financial Times.

‘Hey, what’s that, dude? That human…thingy you said.’ Ziggy waved his paw around. He was a kaleidoscope of colours, and he had one blue eye and one green eye. He was one of the most chilled-out cats in the neighbourhood, although that was probably due to his over-indulgence of catnip and other herbal remedies in the past. You see, Ziggy was a cateopathist – a herbal doctor for cats – and spent a lot of time experimenting with the latest plants. Rumour had it he’d recently invented a herbal worm tablet, which the Katz Crew were going to beta test for him. If it was successful, he’d be patenting it ASAP.

‘A human whisperer is a cat that can talk to humans,’ Smoky said.

‘Why do we need one of those,’ Fidget, a pure white cat, who’d been busy licking her paws twenty-five times each before she sat down, suddenly said. She got up again, turned around ten times, then positioned herself carefully down on the ground, trying to make sure she didn’t get any dirt on her fur.

‘You’re making me dizzy with all that whirling and swirling around, dudette.’ Ziggy did a twirling action with his paw in Fidget’s direction. ‘Aren’t those herbal tablets I gave you helping with the need to clean yourself all the time?’

Fidget shook her head, stood up, and shoved her backside in Ziggy’s face. ‘Have I got any mud on me?’

‘Hmmm…I need to rethink the medication.’ Ziggy rubbed his head. ‘Have you been doing the meditation exercises I gave you?’

Fidget shook her head. ‘I keep trying but I’m so worried about getting dust on me half way through that I just can’t relax.’

Ziggy nodded thoughtfully. ‘Leave it with me. I’ll rethink my dosage.’

‘So, anyway, why do we need a human whisperer? I’m so interested to hear your theory on it.’ Tyger batted her long eyelashes at Smoky. Will he ever notice me? she thought to herself.

‘Well, as you know, we can understand what humans say, but they can’t seem to understand us. Even though we speak the same language as them, all they can hear is meowing and other strange noises. I’ve been looking into the phenomenon,’ Smoky’s voice perked up with enthusiasm, ‘and I’ve discovered that there’s a human whisperer in Africa. It’s actually an African wildcat called Bob.’

‘Bob?’ Fluffy glared disbelievingly at Smoky like he’d just said crickets weren’t tasty. Why do they always believe the rubbish Smoky comes out with? They all think he’s so perfect, and all the kitties hang on his every word. Well, I’ll show them. If I can discredit him, I’ll have my pick of the ladeez because they’ll all want me instead!

‘That’s a weird name for an African cat.’ Fidget glanced up from licking an invisible smudge of dirt off her leg.

‘Exactly!’ Fluffy shook his head. ‘Honestly, Smoky comes out with such rubbish sometimes. Why do you lot always believe him? We always have to listen to the useless random facts that he’s found on that weird computer thingybob? Who cares?’ He clapped his paws together, tilted his head, and said in a sarcastic voice, ‘Smoky says it’s going to rain today, so it must be true. Smoky says there’s a big flea epidemic on the way, so it must be true. Smoky says donkeys kill more people annually than plane crashes. Smoky says beetles don’t taste like chicken. Hellooooooo? Every cat knows beetles taste like chicken!’ Fluffy paused, glaring around the group. ‘I’m sick of it. He’s not some kind of all-knowing guru, you know.’

‘Got out of the sourpuss side of the cat basket today, did you?’ Buster frowned at Fluffy.

Smoky shrugged calmly. ‘I think you must’ve misheard me. I said beetles don’t taste like roasted chicken. And actually, Bob’s quite a popular name in Africa.’

Fluffy rolled his eyes. ‘Blah, blah, blah.’

Cleo gave a delighted purr and nodded encouragingly at Fluffy. Yep, that’s what we need around here, a bit of backbone in our leader. Fluffy’s definitely mogfather material. And when he takes over…well, let’s just say I wouldn’t mind being the leaderess, she thought. OK, so he’s not quite as much of a pin-up as Scar from The Lion King, or as good-looking as geeky Smoky, but he’s not bad. She studied him carefully, tilting her head one way then the other.

Aslana jumped up and stood in front of them all. ‘What is wrong with you all today?’ she hissed. ‘Ma, Pa, and Daisy will be arriving any minute with a new brother or sister for us, and all you can do is argue with each other. Honestly, I despair, I really do.’

‘Aslana’s right,’ Buster boomed. ‘All of you shut up and listen to what Smoky has to say.’ He waved a paw at Smoky. ‘Carry on; I want to hear about this human whisperer.’

‘OK.’ Smoky nodded. ‘Bob,’ he said slowly for Fluffy’s benefit, ‘can talk to humans. Well, specifically one human – a little African girl. She says she knows what Bob is saying, and they seem to actually communicate with each other. I saw some YouTube footage and the way they interact with each other looks real. You see, if we ever have a serious problem and we need to tell Ma and Pa about it, having a human whisperer would be really helpful, wouldn’t it?’

They all nodded, apart from Cleo and Fluffy who were glancing down at their claws, looking bored, and Fidget, who wasn’t listening because she’d spied a lump of dirt on the patio near her and was hastily inching away from it.

‘Well, I think that’s fascinating, Smoky.’ Tyger leaned closer to Smoky and stared goo-goo eyes at him. He’s soooo intelligent AND gorgeous, Tyger thought. What more could you want in a tom?

‘Maybe this new cat, whoever it is, will be a human whisperer,’ Buster said hopefully.

‘Let’s hope so.’ Smoky nodded. ‘They do say that younger humans can communicate more easily with animals than the adults. Apparently when they’re children, they’re more in tune with nature.’

‘Daisy’s six and she can’t understand us,’ Tyger said. ‘Does that mean she’s too old?’

Smoky shrugged. ‘I’m not entirely sure.’

‘Oh, is there something you don’t know for a change?’ Fluffy asked. ‘And there I was thinking you knew everything.’

‘Well, this kind of thing isn’t an exact science,’ Smoky said.

Aslana shot Fluffy a warning look before glancing around the garden again, sighing. ‘Dog and Piggy still aren’t anywhere to be seen.’

Dog was a big ginger cat who thought he was a dog. When he was a kitten, his mum was run over by a car and he’d been found wandering the streets, bedraggled and hungry, by an old lady whose dog had just had puppies. She took him in, giving the little kitten to the dog to breast feed and look after. Ever since then, Dog believed he was also a golden retriever, which accounted for his very strange un-catlike behaviour and his name. When the old lady died, poor Dog ended up at the Briarswood Cats’ Home in town where Ma worked, and Ma couldn’t resist bringing him back to live at Briarswood Cottage with the rest of the growing Katz Crew.

‘There’s Dog.’ Tyger pointed at the fish pond in the distance. ‘He’s swimming again. Oh dear, Daddy will be very cross with him. I do hope he hasn’t been eating the goldfish again.’

‘Daddy?’ Cleo raised her eyebrows. ‘You mean Pa.’ Under her breath she muttered, ‘Why does she always think she’s better than us?’

‘No, I mean Daddy.’ Tyger raised her chin in defiance. ‘Just because some of us have breeding and a well-spoken accent, doesn’t mean you can make derogatory comments.’

‘Absolutely, dudette.’ Ziggy pointed his paw at Tyger in agreement. ‘We’re all different. That’s what makes the world go round.’

‘Breeding? Snobby, more like,’ Cleo muttered.

Smoky grinned shyly at Tyger. ‘I think your voice sounds pretty cool, actually. It’s a bit like Joanna Lumley.’

Cleo pressed her paws over her ears. ‘Here we go again. I can’t take any more of this Tyger-appreciation rubbish.’

Buster put his paw in his mouth and whistled loudly. ‘Dog! Get over here now,’ he yelled.

Dog, who’d been in the middle of an impressively fast doggy paddle, pricked his ears up and made for the edge of the pond. He shook his fur, splashing off the excess water, before scampering across the field towards the rest of the cats.

‘What’s up?’ Dog asked breathlessly.

Aslana leaned closer and peered at the corner of Dog’s mouth. ‘What’s that?’ She pointed to an orange fleck stuck on his fur, then slapped a paw over her mouth, her eyes wide with horror. ‘Uh oh. Have you eaten another one of Pa’s goldfish? He’s going to kill you!’

Dog licked his lips with appreciation. ‘I’m sick of that cat food muck they keep trying to serve me up. I’m a dog, I want dog biscuits! I don’t know how many times I have to say it. So in protest, I’m going to eat a goldfish from Pa’s pond every week until they recognize my demands and doggy rights.’

‘If you’re a dog, why are you eating fish? It’s cats that like fish.’ Fidget’s stunning big blue eyes grew even larger with confusion.

Dog scratched his head, thinking about it. ‘Bummer. I hadn’t thought of that. I’ll have to think of some other way to protest, then. Shame, because they’re really tasty.’ He licked his lips.

Aslana rubbed her forehead frantically. ‘I can’t cope with this now. I’ll talk to you about this later. We still need to find Piggy. Piggy?’ she cried out.

‘Piggy, dahling?’ yelled Tyger. ‘Where are you?’

‘Piggy, dudette, where are ya?’ Ziggy called.

‘I feel sick,’ Fidget said to Ziggy, rubbing her belly.

‘I’m not surprised, the amount you clean yourself,’ Aslana said.

Smoky nodded knowingly. ‘Too much cleaning is bad for your stomach acid levels, and that can lead to ulcers and all sorts of complications. You need to take it easy on the licking.’

‘Where did you read that?’ Fluffy moaned. ‘Annoyingcatsknoweverything.com?’

Buster’s paw shot out and cuffed Fluffy behind the head. ‘Any more from you today and you won’t be getting any of the food at dinner. You’re giving me a headache!’

‘Whatever.’ Fluffy waggled his head nonchalantly. ‘I’m sure I can talk one of the kitties in town into catching a couple of rats for me. After all, in the lion pride, it’s the chicks that do all the work. I like the sound of that lifestyle.’ He looked down at his huge mane. ‘Plus, I look the spitting image of a lion, so why shouldn’t I act like one?’

At that moment, Piggy came flying out of the cat flap in the kitchen with enough force to bash a big hole in a Boeing 747. Piggy was a ginger and white cat with long shaggy fur. She had an upturned nose that looked a bit like a pig’s, and she was very accident-prone. ‘They’re back! They’re coming up the drive!’ Her tongue lolled in and out of her mouth with excitement.

‘Piggy, slow down, dahling,’ Tyger cried out. ‘You’re going to hurt yourself again.

Piggy’s legs got faster and faster as she hurled herself down the sloping garden, the momentum forcing her forward at breakneck speed.

‘Huh?’ Piggy said, seconds before she lost her footing, rolled head over tail, and smashed straight into Buster.

‘Uf!’ Piggy said, knocking the wind out of herself as Buster landed on top of her. She lay on her back, dazed, eyes half open.

‘Oooh, are you both OK?’ Aslana rushed over to them.

Buster sat up, rubbing his side. ‘I’m fine. It’ll take a lot more than an out of control Piggy to finish me off.’

‘Dudette? Piggy? Can you hear me?’ Ziggy stood above Piggy, patting her paw.

Piggy’s eyes looked like they were spinning in a circle. ‘Whaaaaaaaaaaaa?’

‘Follow my paw.’ Ziggy put his paw in front of Piggy’s eyes to see if she could focus on it. ‘Hmmm.’ He frowned, and from a small, leather drawstring pouch around his neck he pulled out some dried herbs, waving them under Piggy’s nose. ‘Sniff this. It’s the best hardcore catnip in the county. My own special recipe. It’ll get you right as rain in no time.’

Piggy took a huge sniff, her eyes widened to the size of saucers, then she sat bolt upright. ‘Woo hoo! Come on!’ She leaped up. ‘What are we waiting for? Ma and Pa and Daisy are back.’

‘Are you sure you’re OK?’ Fidget asked Piggy. ‘Maybe you shouldn’t move for a while, you might have concussion. I had concussion once and I had to lie still in a darkened room for twenty-four hours. It was terrible. I felt all woozy and sick and all peculiar in the head.’

‘Hypochondriac,’ Cleo snorted. ‘You’ve always had something worse than everyone else.’

‘Pardon?’ Fidget put a paw to her ear and rummaged around inside with it. ‘My hearing’s not that good today. Maybe my ear mites are back. I’ve had an awful infestation of them lately.’ She turned to Ziggy. ‘Would you mind sorting me out some more medicine for them?’

‘Sure.’ Ziggy nodded. ‘Piggy, are you really OK?’

Piggy nodded, dribbling.

‘Well, what are we all waiting for?’ Buster grinned. ‘Let’s go meet the new member of the family.’

Click here to buy the book: Sibel Hodge’s It’s a Catastrophe>>>