THE BITER BITTEN: or the crab who caught the cat
Tiddles the tomcat is half a stone of pure evil. Sgt. and Mrs. Wilson belong to him, he allows them to share his house along the Patch two rows away from ours. Tiddles spends his time sunning himself on the front step, waiting for unwary passersby to stroke him, so he can sink his teeth into their wrist while raking four tears down their forearm.
In between he strolls through his neighbours’ gardens leaving generous presents thinly covered with sand. He likes killing land crabs and has eaten Sayed, Robert’s pet. However, we Khormaksar Kids tolerate Tiddles because he is even more unpopular than we are.
We’re operating our Dinky lorry fleet at Graham’s back door and, concentrating on our driving, don’t notice Tiddles until he races up and pounces upon Abdul who is quietly watching from the sidelines. Graham cries out in alarm, for he’s very fond of his pet, now invisible beneath the huge tomcat. But a year of juicy cockroaches and locusts has built Abdul twice normal size, and his new shell has hardened into armour plate.
Suddenly Tiddles leaps vertically upwards, a snarling, hissing, spitting ball of fury. He spins around and streaks homeward, leaving a trail of dust and orange fur. Graham, now crying, dashes to Abdul who extends his legs, raises his twin periscopes and lifts his pincers in the air like Joe Louis winning his big fight. His fighting pincer contains a tuft of fur and something that looks like a scrap of meat, which he devours with relish.
Tiddles never returns to Graham’s house and everyone except the Wilsons seems quite pleased at what happened. Dad tells Mum that he doesn’t know what Tug Wilson is moaning about, the vet would have charged him a couple of quid. “A couple of quid for what, Dad?” But he won’t tell me.