lord of the ringsI answered the door this morning to find Sally Underhill, Mundee’s maid standing on my steps with a covered basket. I wondered what delights Mundee might have charged Sally with delivering.
"Sally, what a pleasant surprise! What brings you to my door?" I asked as I pictured scones filled with plump currants, possibly a loaf of bread, or maybe a mince pie. My hopes for a sweet and tasty interlude were dashed, however, when Sally reached into the basket and brought forth a mewling ball of grey and white fur and holding it by the scruff of its neck,
thrust it at me.
"Miss Mundee says that you can ‘ave your kitten back, now, ‘e’s quite healed up...well enough, anyway.."
I took the cat from her, albeit a bit gingerly. The kitten purred and snuggled in my arms. "B-but, what am I supposed to do with him? And, I thought Mundee was going to help me find him a home." I hoped this reminder would be enough to make Sally take pity on me and return the kitten to Mundee. She remained unmoved.
"Miss Mundee said to tell ya’ that she ain’t got time right fer that, right now. She’s goin’ to Frogmorton for a few days to see ‘er grandparents. ‘Sally,’ she says, ‘you take that terror of a kitten back to Mr. Frodo, while, I still ‘ave some
possessions left unbroken in this ‘ole.’ So, believe me, I wasted no time in ‘urrying right over with ‘im!"
She finished with an emphatic nod at the kitten.
"But I thought Mundee was going to keep him confined."
Sally snorted, "The Lockholes in Michel Delving wouldn’t hold that one!"
"But Sally, I-Ow!" The little fur ball had sunk his tiny kitten teeth into my hand as I was stroking him. I wrestled my hand away from him with some difficulty as he kept latching onto it with those sharp little claws.
"Sally," I attempted once more to appeal to her sympathy, "I’m just not prepared to take on a pet. I know nothing about kittens. Look, if you’re not going to Frogmorton with Mundee, couldn’t you look after him... just a little while longer? Please?"
"I’ll not look after that beast one more minute!"
"Beast? But he seemed like such a good-natured little fellow when I rescued him."
"I’m not sayin’ ‘e’s vicious, but ‘e’s bad news if ever there was any! I’m sorry Mr. Frodo. And, believe me, when I say ‘sorry’ you don’t know how much I mean that. But, there’s not enough wealth in the Shire as would make me spend one more day with that little demon!"
I was defeated and I knew it. "Well...thank you Sally, and will you offer Mundee my sincere gratitude, as well? And, please, tell her not to hesitate in the least, if there’s anyway that I can repay her. I’ll gladly replace anything that was broken. Ouch!"
The "demon" was chewing on my hand again.
Sally fished in the basket. " ‘ere!" she said, producing a mangled bit of material. "Give ‘im this. It’s a kitty toy Miss Mundee sewed for ‘im."
She handed it to me. I took it with one hand, and with the other tried to keep the kitten from climbing over my shoulder and down my back. The prick of pointed claws through the cloth of my waistcoat and shirt was most unpleasant.
"There’s some milk in the basket for ‘im, too." Sally said as she placed the basket just inside my door.
Her parting words were, "As soon as the weather improves and some of this snow melts, Miss Mundee said it wouldn’t ‘urt to let ‘im run outside. Do ‘im a world of good actually."
I watched her walk away, then glanced down at the toy in my hand. I think it was supposed to have been a replica of a mouse, but it was hard to tell, for the cloth was shredded in places and the cotton batting was poking through the holes. But a piece of mangled yarn still barely hanging by a thread made up what was left of the tail and one tiny remnant of a stitched on eye remained.
I closed the door, pried the kitten’s claws from my neck and hoped fervently for the weather to improve very soon......
Some few days later, Pippin, Merry and I were in the kitchen, finishing up our tea.while Sam ran back into the drawing room to fetch some notes he had left on a side table. He wanted me to take a look at the work he had done far on his garden compendium. While we waited, draining the last drop of tea from our cups, Pippin rummaged through my cupboards.
"Haven’t you got anythin’ else to eat, Frodo?" He asked, moving on to the next cabinet. "I’m still hungry."
"You’ve had three seed cakes, and, you finished off the last muffin!" Merry reminded our young cousin.
"There’s a half a loaf of bread and some honey in the back shelf of the pantry, I believe. " I told Pip.
"Ah! I see it!"
Pippin was just emerging triumphant, with his treasures, when from the drawing room there came a resounding crash. It was a certainty that something had been broken. This sound was followed by Sam’s voice, raised to an agitated level.
"Here! Ya little varmint! Look what you’ve done now!"
There was no time for any of us to leap to our feet, for in the next second a small grey and white bundle of fur streaked through the open kitchen door and skittered to a halt at my feet. Sam burst into the room in almost the same instant, clutching some shredded papers bunched in one hand.
Merry laughed. "Sam, I had no idea you could move so fast."
Sam didn’t bother addressing that remark. He had already turned to me with, "Mr. Frodo, yor’e gonna have t’ do somethin’ about that cat. Look what ‘e did to my notes!" Sam tossed the torn and wadded parchment on the kitchen table.
Across the table, Merry looked at me from under raised eyebrows. While between my feet, I could feel a soft furry little body scoot as close as it could.
"And that’s not all!" Sam went on. "‘e knocked over that painted rose vase that was one o’ Mr. Bilbo’s favourites. It’s broken into about a ‘undred pieces."
"Oh Sam, I’m terribly sorry about your notes! I know how hard you’ve worked putting them together." I apologized.
Sam heaved a sigh and said, "Oim sorry about Mr. Bilbo’s- Oi mean yor vase."
I shrugged it off. "I’m not. I know Bilbo was fond of it, but I’ve always thought it was rather gaudy."
"What are you going t’ do with your little guest?" It was Merry’s turn to ask.
"I’m not really sure. I had hoped to find him a home, other than mine. I suppose I could relocate him to the yard and garden, now that the weather is a bit better."
"Probably be good for him. He could run and play to his heart’s content." Merry pointed out.
"Probably." I agreed. "But, I just couldn’t bring myself to do that, yet. He still seems... too little, too much of a baby."
I reached down and picked up the "baby," who promptly sank tiny teeth and claws into my hand. I winced as I worked to wrestle free, but it was like trying to rid one’s self of a prickly, biting, troublesome cockleburr, suddenly come to life.
Pippin seemed to find that funny. "He’s very fond of playing, isn’t he?"
"You might call it playing." I replied, extricating my hand and arm at last. "I call it being mauled."
Pip abandoned the bread and honey he had been clutching protectively in exchange for the kitten. Unwinding the knitted scarf that had been hanging loosely about his neck, he set to teasing the kitten with the fringed ends.
"What’s his name, Frodo?" he asked.
"Umm...he doesn’t have a name. I ‘m afraid I haven’t given him one, yet."
"I can think of a couple of names..." I heard Sam mutter under his breath. I couldn’t help but smile. It seemed as though he and Sally shared the same sentiments regarding the little cat.
"He probably thinks his name is, ‘Stop that!’" I remarked.
Merry had been studying Pippin and the kitten as they played. "You know somethin’? He sort of reminds me of Pip."
I had to admit he had a point. The two seemed suited to each other. Both filled with eagerness and boundless curiosity.
Pippin looked up from his game to ask, "Why?"
"Because, he’s a load of trouble, just like you." Merry teased.
"Takes one t’ know one." Pippin shot back.
Merry received that insult with a proud grin, then asked me, "Is Bennie gonna take the kitten back? You know, I’d be happy to deliver him to her."
I knew Merry had a bit of a crush on his older cousin. Fortunately, for him, the infatuation wasn’t reciprocated.
"I don’t know....she’s never said for sure and I haven’t really asked her, yet." I hadn’t seen Bennie for several days, not since the encounter in my parlour that had ended in an ardent embrace. "I suspect she’s been busy with her ponies."
"Well, maybe it’s not my place to say," Sam ventured, "but Oi’m not sure Miss Bennie spends a whole lot of time with any of her animals, leastwise, not when it comes t’ makin’ ‘em mind. They all seem to just run the countryside as they please. That pony that my ole’ Gaffer got from ‘er thinks ‘e can come an’ go as ‘e pleases, jumpin’ the paddock fence, lettin’ ‘imself out of the stall. Dad said ‘e wonders if Miss Bennie teaches all of ‘er ponies tricks."
While Sam had been talking, Pippin had dropped the scarf and scooped the kitten into his arms, where it purred noisily.
"Frodo," he asked suddenly, "can I have him?"
"You want him?" Merry voiced in mild surprise. "What will your mother say?"
"Whatever she says, I’m sure it won’t be, ‘Give Frodo my deepest gratitude!’" I assured them.
"We have other cats around the smials. One more won’t matter." Pip returned. "Besides, we always have room for barn cats. He’ll like it there. He’ll have lots of friends."
I glanced at Merry, who merely shrugged.
"Well....I suppose. But, don’t you let Eglantine think I pushed him off on you, and, if it doesn’t work out, bring him back here."
"Agreed!" My young cousin said emphatically. "And, first things first, he’s going to get a name. I’m going to call him . . . Pippin!"
"You can’t name him after yourself!" exclaimed Merry.
"Why not? You said he reminded you of me. I happen to like my name, so that’s what I’m going to call him."
I threw a hasty look in Sam’s direction to see if he happened to be rolling his eyes, but Merry had beaten him to it. Perhaps Sam was just glad that Pippin the II was leaving Hobbiton, and come Spring would not be using Sam’s well-tended gardens as his personal kitty lavatory. As for me, I was glad he would no longer be using my log holder and hearth rug for the same purpose. However, as I bid Merry, Pippin, and Pippin farewell, I realised that in the short time he had been my guest, I had grown rather fond of the little fur ball, and mostly, I was relieved that he would be going to a good home.
