‘I’m feeling good about this,’ Catvinkle said, prancing along the street just slightly ahead of Ula. ‘Let’s go, Ketzington!’

‘Who’s Ketzington, again?’ Ula called.

Mr Sabatini heard Ula asking this as he watched his two pets leaving the house together to go out for a walk. He heard it as just sounds, not words, but still, it made him very happy to see that they had become such good friends.

Catvinkle was now feeling quite confident about her chances of winning the National Kitten Baby-Shoe Dancing Competition. She told Ula why as they walked the streets of Amsterdam on their way to the Vondelpark.

‘First,’ she said, ‘I have you here with me for that musky smell that I’ve grown so fond of. Second, as you know, I’m really a very good baby-shoe dancer. Third, it’s my story so I have to win.’

‘What do you mean?’ asked Ula, trotting alongside her.

‘Well, you know, whenever you read a book, hear a story, see a movie or watch a TV show, the person or animal whose story it is always wins any competition that they’re in. And it’s my story.’

‘What do you mean it’s your story?’ asked Ula.

‘Well, I’m in it all the time. I’m always with me. Yesterday when I woke up, I was there. This morning too. When I went to Grayston’s house to help you get the ball, well, I was there. I’m always there so it must be my story.’

‘But Catvinkle, what about me?’

‘What about you, Ulee?’

‘I’m here too. In fact, I was with you each time that you’ve just remembered.’

‘Of course you were, my dear Ulee. You’re my best friend so you have to be in my story. It’s only natural.’

‘But maybe it’s my story.’

‘Pardon me?’ said Catvinkle.

‘Maybe it’s my story and you’re in it too because you’re my best friend.’

‘Oh, I don’t think so, Ulee. Before I’d even met you, way back then, you were never in my story, but I was. I’ve been with me since I was a kitten. So you see, it has to be my story. That’s one of the reasons why I’ll win the National Kitten Baby-Shoe Dancing Competition,’ Catvinkle said happily.

Ula wished that she could be as confident as her friend Catvinkle. Although she wasn’t going to be dancing in the competition, with every step they took – and they had eight paws between them – she was getting closer to being surrounded by a whole clowder of cats who didn’t like dogs. She was going to have to pretend to be one of them by not speaking.

‘Catvinkle, how will all the cats and kittens at Kittens Anonymous know I’m Ketzington disguised as a Dalmatian dog?’

‘I’ll tell them, Ulee.’

‘Hmmm … I wish I’d checked our plan with my cousin, Lobbus the brave dog Lobbus. Lobbus would know if it’s a good plan.’