Lois Letchford reads Chapter 5 of Anne Fiennes' The Killer Cat Runs Away, where the cat says goodbye to household objects: a pot plant, frying pan, alarm clock, slippers, and piano. The cat reminisces about mischief and shared moments before a human called Mr Not-At-All-Musical forces it off the piano.
Chapters
Hello, I am Lois Letchford, author of the book Reversed: A Memoir and literacy problem solver, reading from Anne Fiennes' The Killer Cat Runs Away, chapter 5. A chapter of sad farewells. I went around saying fond farewells to all the things I've loved so long. Goodbye, dear pot plant, I said. I expect you'll miss me scratching around in your soil when it's too cold and wet for me to bother to go outside to do my business. I brushed away a tear. And I shall miss you too. I went into the kitchen. Adieu, my beloved frying pan, I sighed. How many times have I stood beside you on the counter licking your leftover bacon fat when no one else was about? We have been friends for so long, frying pan, but this is the end. I went upstairs. This is parting of the ways, I told the alarm clock. But we have shared so many happy moments. How often have I crept in here by moonlight when Mr. I-must-not-be-late has set you carefully for 7 o'clock. How often have I braved his rattling snoring to jump on the bedside table and reach out a silent paw to push your on button to off. And how the two of us have enjoyed his desperate shrieks of panic when he wakes late in the morning. Oh, I shall miss you, alarm clock. I slid under. I do not snore, I just breathe heavily side of the bed. So long, bedroom slippers, I said. If I had a single tear for every dead mouse I'd slipped into your toes to frightened, oh my lordy, what's this? Then I could weep a river to say goodbye to you. Please don't feel lonely and neglected. We Without my little gifts. Goodbye. Goodbye. I went downstairs to the piano. Adios, my musical friend. After today, I shall walk up and down your keys no more, making you plink and plunk and driving everyone mad. Our happy hours are over. I'm off into the world, and we shall sadly never finish our masterwork. The Tuffy Piano Concerto for 4 Paws. I thought it would be nice to leave that sweet tune still ringing in my ears, so I walked up and down the keys a bit. I like to stick to the black ones. They sound more plinky-plunky, and every time one of my paws slides off onto a white key, I tend to get a little cross and stamp. What's that dreadful noise? Whoops! Mr Not-At-All-Musical poked his head around the door. You! Well, you can get off that piano at once! He pushed me off. I hate that, so I spun around in the air on my way down and scratched him hard. Yowch! He glared at me, and I glared back at him. That is one person in this house to whom I won't be saying a fond farewell.
