I was just floating around in heaven the other day. Flitting around from colour to colour on the Rainbow Ridge – supervising the new additions that tend to take advantage of the space.
Even I, Miss Fudgie-wena, took advantage when I first arrived. I mean it is ginormous fun to leap through the rainbow and become rainbow coloured – especially when you have a long bod like I do – but let’s furry face it – doing that a gazillion times becomes old very quickly.
We don’t want to wear out the rainbow now, do we?
So like I said, I was supervising things, sniffing around. Generally making my own self useful where ever possible, when I heard that there was a commotion going on at the Pearly Gates.
Curiosity won and I decided to go take a peek.
Sometimes I can calm things down a smidgeon – me being Head Angel Doglet and all.
There was a big crowd. Everybody was pushing and shoving and trying to see what the problem was. Such unbecoming behaviour in heaven.
Heard some whispering… a cat had arrived at the Pearly Gates that was so big they were having a hard time finding angel wings to fit.
Now there are rules in heaven about wings. People get people wings. Dogs get dogs wings. Cats get cats wings. Pigs would love to have wings but everybody knows they can’t fly. They have to snuffle around the place.
Nosed my way closer to the front of the crowd to see what was going on.
A large black and white cat was sitting looking extremely disgruntled. Various pairs of wings were being fitted on his back and just as quickly discarded. Every now and then the cat would twitch his whiskers and raise its yellow eyes to heaven – which is pretty hard to do when you are already in heaven. Clearly he had been in a spot of trouble because his nose was a total mess.
“Gerroffme!” He yowled – as the 37th pair of too-small wings was tried on his back. “I’m not a freaking fairy!”
Saint Peter looked on – a bit disapprovingly. Getting to Heaven’s Gate is quite an achievement – so you do not want to jeopardize actual entry into heaven once you are so close.
Had a feeling of déjà vu. Thought something looked a bit familiar.
Suddenly it hit me. Ralphie!
But what was my Ralphie doing in heaven? He wasn’t due for a good couple of years.
Sidled up closer to check that I was not getting short sighted. I WAS NOT. It was indeed my old furry bud, Ralph.
Gave him the nose.
Oi! Hullo Ralph.
His cat eyes opened wide and his whiskers quivered bravely. He smiled with all his sharp pointy fangs. Even his eyebrows wiggled and jiggled with joy.
Fudges! Ralphie murmured and slinked his furry body against mine. We nuzzled for a bit. It felt like home.
What is the problem Ralph? I breathed in his ear.
He hissed…. Get these silly wallies off me. I. Am. Not. A. Fairy Cat!
I looked at him with big brown eyes. Ralphie! Do not jeopardise your spot in heaven. Just take the wings and shhhhh… You are going to be an angel – not a fairy!
Ralphie, however, was having none of it.
He shook and shivered and refused to even vaguely entertain the thought of having any sort of wings on his back.
Saint Peter’s face got blacker and blacker.
Eventually he intervened… “Ralph…” he murmured in a silky smooth voice… “would you like to go downstairs and catch rats for Old Nic?”
Ralph looked at me – not really understanding the question properly. For a smarty-pants cat he’s quite doff sometimes.
I shook my head vehemently. Then I suddenly had a brain wave. I whispered to one of the flighty angels who were responsible for fitting the new additions with wings.
She reappeared with a nice selection of mouse wings that could be worn on Ralph’s legs – like manly spurs.
Clearly Ralphie thought that this whole idea was not too shabby because he gave in and let them attach the wings. He fluttered those wings and flew like an angel.
Saint Peter breathed a sigh of relief. So did I.
Zoomed up next to Ralph and gave him the nose.
Hey… it’s not so bad up here… come on – I’ll introduce you to Zed, Skunk and Looseyfur. Then let’s go see what mom is doing downstairs.