In this narrated excerpt of Chapter 3 from Anne Fine’s The Killer Cat’s Christmas, the story follows a chaotic Christmas morning where the family cat, Tuffy, is blamed for ruining a costly dress. Ellie’s father (referred to as Mr Grumpy) erupts in anger, accusing the cat of vandalism and threatening to keep Tuffy locked away for the holidays. Ellie, her friends Lucinda and Lancelot, defend the cat, explaining that Tuffy is unsettled by visitors. Despite the heated exchange, Ellie promises to look after Tuffy and keep him away from the house’s decorations, clothing, and food, offering a tentative resolution. The passage captures the tension, blame‑shifting, and the children’s protective stance toward the cat, setting up a moral conflict about responsibility and compassion during the festive season.
Chapters
Hello, I'm Lois Letchford reading chapter 3, The Killer Cat's Christmas, written by Anne Fine. I woke up though. All of that booing, hooing from Ellie's mum. Then Mr Grumpy rushed up the stairs to find out what was going on, and things turned Nasty! There were some harsh words. You furry vandal! Ellie's father snarled. You foul and spiteful beast! I played it cool, raising an eyebrow at him. He hates it when I put on my not-bothered look and flick my tail at him. Look what you've done! he fumed. You've turned a beautiful and expensive dress into a filthy rag! He waved it in my face. Look at it, torn to threads! Now Ellie had arrived with Lucinda and Lancelot in tow. They stuck up for me. Oh, please don't blame Tuffy! begged Lancelot. He didn't mean to spoil the dress, insisted Lucilla. He's just unsettled from having visitors, Ellie explained to her father. But Mr Blame-the-Cat-for-Everything was not having that. He wagged his telling-off finger. Don't you believe it! This whiskery little waister knows full well what it's about, and I'll tell you, this house We'd be far, far better placed if we just made the sensible decision to ask the vet to simply— I didn't catch the last few words. Ellie had let out a fearsome screech and clapped her hands over my ears. I wriggled free in time to hear the end of his next threat. Or spend the whole of Christmas in a cattery. Up came Ellie's hands again. This time, when I tugged back my head enough to hear, the only words I caught were, in some strong cage. Ellie was almost in tears. So were Lancelot and Lucilla. Oh, please don't say that, Uncle George. No, don't say that. But Ellie's father was Well, it's my view that— No! Ellie cried. We 3 will look after Tuffy. You needn't worry. We'll keep him well away from you. My father was still scowling. And well away from all the clothes in the cupboard, and the tree, and the food, and all the presents and the decorations. Yes, Tuffy won't spoil anything, I promise! Ellie pounced on me! And since for once I felt I would be safer out of there, I let her scoop me up and carry me off down to the living room, well away from Mrs. Still's red and weepy eyes clutching the torn shreds of her ruined dress. And Mr. Total Grump.
