Furball and the young mokes entered the kitchen. They all knew their way around and Furball set out purposefully across the kitchen to edge her way through the larder door. If the larder door wasn’t open (and it usually was), then they would find food in another place. On the dresser itself was the ledge where the Giant kept the packet of hamster food. It was a big climb, but if she needed to shimmy up the dresser she would (just) be able to do it.
While she was having these practical and purposeful thoughts, her two young friends were racing round and round in circles under the dresser. None of them, as yet, had seen the sticky-trap on the floor, halfway out from under the dresser. After running round in circles, Nobby and Buster were out of breath. Nobby paused and let a few little dark brown, almost black droppings fall on the kitchen floor before scampering off once more.
‘Perhaps – the larder…’ said Furball, in her quiet little voice.
‘Wozzat?’ called Buster.
‘Perhaps the larder.’
‘Oh –’ in their bad imitation of her voice – ‘Per heps the lah-de-da.’
Furball scuttled straight towards the larder door with the speed of an electric toy. By the time Buster and Nobby pranced up behind, Furball was calling, ‘We’re in luck – the door is open.’
The thought of the six new Rivals, and of Mokey Moke needing more food, inspired Furball to real hard work. She climbed into the plastic shopping basket on the larder floor, although once at the bottom of the basket, she found it impossible to resist a nibble at a particularly succulent carrot.
‘We have here – carrots – potatoes.’
‘Any biskoes in there, Furbs?’
‘Not that I can see,’ she called back. She was already clambering out, heaving a carrot in her mouth, when Nobby repeated his biscuit request. Furball didn’t admit she wasn’t sure what a ‘bisko’ was.
Furball was much bigger than the mokes, and she was a much better climber. But sometimes, when they broke into laughter, she still wondered if they were making fun of her. But she knew they really did admire her skills as a climber, and as a food carrier. So it pleased her to show off, just a little, to Nobby and Buster.
The two young mokes stood on the larder floor and watched her climb up the wall to the shelf. For them it was as exciting as an evening at the circus. Furball’s small pink paws, with their sharp-clawed fingers, carried her up the sheer brick face of the larder wall. Then with a heave – heave – HEAVE, she was on the shelf.
Nobby and Buster stared up at her. In their sharp grey faces and jet-black shining eyes she could see sheer admiration.
‘Good on yer, Furb.’
‘Cor – see the way she took that wall?’
‘Like yer footwork, Furb.’
Of course, they laughed as they said this – they always laughed, whatever they said, just as they never made a journey without leaping about making everything into a game. Still they were clearly impressed – very impressed indeed, and for Furball this felt very good.
She called down to them. ‘Plenty up here!’
She reached out with her paws, and a long shining blue tower labelled rich tea biscuits tottered over and almost squashed her on the spot. As it rolled off the shelf, faster and faster, it could have squashed all of them, but Nobby and Buster liked to live dangerously and they danced out of the way as the blue packet fell to the floor. Once it had landed, they ran towards it and began to nibble the shiny packaging.
‘Nuff ter keep us goin forever ere, Furball.’
‘We’ll drag it back under the dresser,’ she called down from the shelf. ‘While I’m up here – anything else you’d like?’
Now she was showing off with a stylish hamster dance as she reached for different packets. From a packet of rice, a pattering rain dropped on the shelf and floor. From another packet, labelled pearl barley, she gobbled a pouchful of hard but tasty little nuggets.
‘Is it my burfdie or summat?’ asked Nobby as some of the pearl barley bounced towards his head.
Furball was saying, ‘Or there are raisins…’ These were delicious. She ate several and threw a few more over the edge.
‘I reckon you’ve got us what I never fort we’d ave,’ called Buster.
‘Bisker?’ asked Furball nonchalantly, hoping she’d got the word right.
‘Better than that, Furb – nuff!’
Nobby squeaked with delight at this. ‘Never thought we’d ave nuff.’
With no idea what they were talking about, Furball joined in the laughter.
Now it was time to begin her descent. Peeping over the edge of the shelf she felt as if she was looking over a really high cliff. Nobby and Buster weren’t watching now. They were attacking the Rich Tea biscuits packet with a frenzy, spitting out wrapping and munching the biscuits. Very gingerly, Furball put her paws on the edge of the shelf and swung herself over.