‘Here goes!’ said Catvinkle. ‘I have three secrets. I’ll tell you the first one and see how it feels. If it feels good to get it out of my fur I’ll tell you another one. But if it doesn’t feel good, I’d just as soon forget that I ever tried telling a secret to a dog.’

‘Sounds fair,’ said Ula.

‘Ready?’ asked Catvinkle.

‘Do you mind if I come a bit closer to the fire first? I find it easier to keep a secret when I’m warm,’ asked Ula.

Catvinkle nodded her agreement. ‘I suppose that would be all right.’

Ula crept closer to the fire. She wanted to creep even closer still, but thought that if she went too far in any one movement Catvinkle might change her mind about everything. She might even ask her to leave.

It sure was a beautiful room Catvinkle had. The fire was crackling and there were so many books in the bookshelves lining the walls. Ula looked around her, imagining a story in each of the books. So many stories, she thought. With this many stories a dog would never feel lonely or alone. A dog would never be bored. Then she remembered that she was in the middle of a story right now. It was a story about Catvinkle’s secrets and she was just about to hear the first one.

‘Okay,’ said Catvinkle, ‘here’s the first of my three secrets.’ She took a deep breath then let it out. ‘Secret number one is … I really only have two secrets.’

‘Wow!’ said Ula. ‘I never would have guessed that. You really only have two secrets!’

‘Shhh!’ hissed Catvinkle. ‘Do you want the whole world to know?’

‘No, I don’t think so,’ said Ula.

‘You don’t think so!’ cried Catvinkle.

‘Well, I’ve never really thought about it,’ said Ula in her own defence.

‘If you want to know the other two secrets the right answer is, “No, I don’t want the whole world to know that you’ve really only got two secrets.”’

‘Okay, I don’t want the whole world to know you’ve only got two secrets,’ said Ula.

‘Good. Now, secret number two is … I am a baby-shoe dancer.’

‘Oh my goodness!’ said Ula. ‘That’s incredible! I can’t believe it!’ She paused. ‘Is that a good response?’

‘Yes, that’s pretty good,’ said Catvinkle, impressed.

‘Just one thing,’ said Ula. ‘What’s a baby-shoe dancer?’

‘In the world of cats and kittens,’ explained Catvinkle, ‘when we’re alone and no people or other animals are watching us, we like to dance. And the most popular dance among cats and kittens is baby-shoe dancing. That is probably why that dear little baby boy gave me his shoes. I think he knew.’

‘I see,’ said Ula.

Catvinkle continued. ‘Two years ago I won the National Kitten Baby-Shoe Dancing Competition. Last year I came second to a stupid show-off cat named Twinkiepaws.’

‘Twinkiepaws!’ exclaimed Ula.

‘You know her?’ asked Catvinkle.

‘No, it’s just a very unusual name.’

‘It’s a dumb name for a dumb cat. I heard a rumour that it’s not even her real name. No, her real name is Spinnenkop. Twinkiepaws indeed! That’s just her baby-shoe dancing competition name. She’s so … happy with herself, ugh! I got tired of her boasting about how good at baby-shoe dancing she is. That’s when I decided I should learn. It took some time and a lot of practice but now I’m pretty good at it. I’m ready to challenge that show-offy cat again this year and teach her that she’s not so good after all. Did you know she gets her tail fur puffed up and fluffed up before the competition?’

‘I can just imagine,’ said Ula. She knew it wasn’t very nice to gossip, but she was finding that listening innocently to someone else gossip, especially if you were relaxed and warm in front of the fire, was extremely pleasant.

‘No, Twinkiepaws is even worse than you might be imagining. She’s a show-off with an unnaturally fluffy tail and I hate her!’

‘Hate’s a very strong word,’ said Ula.

‘I know, but I can’t think of a better one to describe the way I feel about Twinkiepaws.’

Catvinkle had got herself all fired up in describing her dislike of her baby-shoe dancing rival. In fact, she was so worked up that, without realising, she was walking around on two feet like a human.

‘Wow, you’re standing on two paws,’ said Ula in admiration. ‘Standing and walking!’

‘Yes,’ said Catvinkle, ‘I have to. It’s part of my training for the National Kitten Baby-Shoe Dancing Competition. Did I mention that it’s only two days away? I’m going to win back my title from Twinkiepaws. Then, when I do, I’m going to prance, march and strut into the centre of town to the market and all the cats in town, including the visiting tourist cats, will see me. Every cat will be in the market on the first day of herring season.’

‘Is that a special day?’ asked Ula.

‘Is it special?! What planet do you live on? It’s the most special day of the year, other than perhaps my birthday,’ answered Catvinkle.

‘That’s news to a dog. But, Catvinkle, I have a question. You said your second secret is that you’re a baby-shoe dancer.’

‘Yes, I know I said that. I was there when I said it,’ said Catvinkle.

‘Well,’ said Ula, ‘if other cats and kittens have seen you do your baby-shoe dancing, then they will know that this is a type of dance that you like to do.’

‘I don’t just like doing it, I’m very good at doing it. Excellent, really. Sorry, what was the question?’

‘Well, if these other cats and kittens at Kittens Anonymous have seen you baby-shoe dance, how can it be a secret?’

‘Oh, I think I understand,’ Catvinkle said. ‘Maybe some cats know and others have forgotten, but no one else knows except some of them and now you.’

Ula moved her head from side to side, suggesting she really was having trouble understanding.

‘Look, Ula,’ Catvinkle went on, ‘here’s the secret to secrets: they belong to you, or in this case to me. It’s up to me to decide what is a secret and what isn’t. A long time ago I decided that my baby-shoe dancing was one of my secrets. So it’s a secret. Okay! It’s as simple as that.’

‘So it doesn’t matter how many cats know?’ asked Ula.

‘Yes, of course it matters how many cats know!’ said Catvinkle, getting a tiny bit frustrated with the wide-eyed dog before her.

‘I don’t get it,’ said Ula.

‘I can’t be expected to make perfect sense all the time. Get it, purr-fect sense?!’

‘I don’t get it,’ said Ula again.

‘It’s a cat joke. I’ve got to remember that one. Next question, please,’ said Catvinkle.

Ula perked up, and her tail started wagging to and fro in time with her heartbeat at the idea of asking another question. ‘What does baby-shoe dancing look like? Would you do some baby-shoe dancing for me?’

‘But I’ve only just met you. And, anyway, you’re a dog,’ said Catvinkle.

‘Yes, I am a dog, but dogs are really great.’

‘Look, Ula, you see these paws, these whiskers and this tail? I’m a cat. I’m never going to agree with you about that. I can’t!’ said Catvinkle, standing on her two bottom paws with her tail swishing about behind her.

Ula thought for a moment. ‘What if you practised your baby-shoe dancing and I just happened to be here?’ she suggested.

‘Well, I do have to practise. But you’d have to promise two things: that you won’t tell anyone, and that you accept that I’m not dancing for you. I need to practise my routine so I can beat Twinkiepaws, and you just happen to be here in the room.’

‘Okay, I could promise that.’

Catvinkle put one of her bottom paws in the right baby shoe and one of her bottom paws in the left. With her eyes closed, Catvinkle counted softly to herself, ‘One, two, three,’ and began to dance. She swung her rump to the left and then to the right and back again, with her tail going the opposite way. Then she did a backflip in one direction and then another in the opposite direction.

‘Wow!’ said Ula.