In this YouTube reading, author Lois Letchford introduces herself and reads Chapter 1 of The Killer Cat Runs Away, the second‑last installment of the Diary of the Killer Cat series. The chapter is narrated in the first‑person voice of Tuffy, a self‑styled “Killer Cat,” who recounts a chaotic encounter with a newborn baby in the family’s home. Tuffy describes his irritation at the baby’s laughter, a finger poking his eye, and the family’s reactions—Ellie’s frantic attempts to protect the infant, the father’s distrust of the cat, and nostalgic references to a former kitten, Tinker Bell. Throughout, Tuffy’s jealousy, sense of rivalry, and the household’s lack of humor are highlighted, revealing the cat’s perspective on being marginalized in a home that now favors “silly pink babies.” Lois’s reading conveys a playful, slightly sardonic tone that brings the cat’s inner monologue to life.
Chapters
Hello, I am Lois Letchford, author of the book Reversed: A Memoir and a Literacy Problem Solver. Today I am reading to you The Killer Cat Runs Away, the second last in the series of The Diary of the Killer Cat. Silly Pink Babies, Chapter 1. Okay, okay, so twist my tail. I spat at that stupid baby, but it was annoying me, lying there in its frilly basket, chuckling and girding the Thing was laughing at me, and no one likes being laughed at, especially not me. I'm not called Tuffy for nothing, and I didn't earn the nickname of the Killer Cat from sitting purring on a cushion. And then this baby Poked its finger in my eye! For heaven's sake, it could have hurt me! So it was lucky, really. I could have bitten it or scratched it, but I only spat. Spit doesn't hurt at all. So why is everyone picking on me? Tuffy! cried Ellie. Get away from that baby at once! She rushed to scoop it up. I didn't know why. It wasn't even yelling. The baby didn't even mind. It was still laughing as if the whole thing was a bit of a giant joke. And there was only a tiny bit of dribble Nobody in this house has any sense of humour at all. They all go mad about the slightest thing. That cat is not to be trusted, said Ellie's father. He's the most jealous creature under the sun. I like that. Jealous? Me? Of something that can't even walk or feed itself? I gave that man a slit-eyed stare, but he just stared right back and said to Ellie, remember poor Tinker Bell? Ellie went pale. Of course she remembered. Tinker Bell was a small kitten the family had to look after for 4 whole days. You wouldn't believe the Isn't she pretty? So fluffy and so sweet! Look, Ellie, Tinker Bell's learned how to flick her tail! See her pink tongue? Tongue? Look, Mum, look quickly while she's lapping up her milk! She's not cold, is she? If she's cold, push Toffee off the rug and let Tinker Bell sit near the fire instead. I think she's hungry. Shall we offer her a dish of cream? Offer her cream? She didn't even live with us. We were just kitten-sitting for a day or so, and I was their real pet, not Tinkerbell. I've lived with them for years, ever since Ellie got old enough to nag them into getting me. Is it surprising that I got a little testy? And that I wouldn't let Tinker Bell sleep in any of my favourite spots? And that I accidentally pushed her off the windowsill? And ate her special juicy Baby kitten food? All by mistake. And all the other stupid petty things that they complained about. No, I don't think that Tinkerbell will be in any hurry to come and stay with us again. And there's no room in any case, because they clearly prefer silly pink babies now. If they're not careful, I shall spit at it again.
