Little Truff and the Siamese Cat

By Ann Russell

To everyone who loves dogs and cats, I would like to introduce my latest book, Little Truff and the Siamese cat. Suitable for 10 years and up.

The book begins when Little Truff, a cute Cavalier King Charles Spaniel, meets her new next-door neighbour. You will love her. She’s a chocolate point Siamese called Chloe. She is highly intelligent but very mischievous. Kids, parents and grandparents will love the tricks she gets up to.

Chloe is also a good friend. When Little Truff is kidnapped by her former abusive owner, she follows them, determined they will return home safely. Will they do it? And how?

Join the famous duo in their first gripping adventure.

A modern animal story about commercial cruelty to animals, for all generations, with humour, horror and adventure.

Little Truff and the Siamese cat is a moving story, not only about deplorable commercial cruelty to animals but also about the importance of friendship and respect between animals and humans. It is balanced with humour, adventure and compassion and is the second in a series of four about animal issues.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ann Russell
• Release date: Sep 1, 2013
• ISBN: 9780473260781

Book preview

LITTLE TRUFF and the SIAMESE CAT

For readers 10 to 110 years

~~~~

Ann Russell

Copyright © Ann Russell 2013

Published by AM Publishing NZ at Smashwords

for Ann Russell Publisher

EBOOK ISBN 978-0-473-26078-1

The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

All rights reserved. With the exception of short excerpts quoted for review purposes, no part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including photocopying, recording, information storage and retrieval systems, or otherwise, without prior permission in writing from the author.

The book is set in Auckland, New Zealand. The story, characters and events described are fictional. The illegal vivisection laboratory in the countryside of North Auckland is fictitious; however, the trauma suffered by the rabbits and cats in the laboratory is based on fact.

~~~~~~

If you have men who will exclude any of God's creatures

from the shelter of compassion and pity, you will have

men who will deal likewise with their fellow men.

St Francis of Assisi, 1182–1226

~~~~~

Chapter 1

Ding dong! Ding dong!

I snapped awake, opened a watchful eye. All was well. My mum and dad, Barry and Chrissie Nelson, were busy in the kitchen.

‘That’ll be the new neighbours,’ Chrissie called out, wiping her hands on a towel.

I opened the other eye and sat up.

‘I’ll tell the kids.’ Barry went over to the ranch slider and the deck outside. ‘David! Leila! Mr and Mrs Stevens are here so put your gear away,’ he shouted to the two teens practising their tennis skills on the lawn.

‘In a minute, Dad,’ David yelled, swiping a ball onto the taut net of the tennis rebounder. ‘I just wanna finish this bout.’

‘Gotcha!’ Leila cried, taking a swing at the ball but failing and banging into her brother instead.

‘Yeah! Right!’ David exclaimed as they spun about laughing.

I remember Barry chuckling as he went back in.

Chrissie had taken her apron off, and they both started towards the front door as the doorbell rang again.

Jumping from my bucket chair onto the family-room floor, I scampered after them. Even though I’m a small dog, I think and act like a big one, so when visitors call, my place is at my family’s side.

Chrissie opened the door to two people I’d never seen, the new neighbours who had shifted in next door last week. ‘Hello, welcome!’ she said. ‘So glad you could come.’ Turning slightly she added, ‘Diana, George, I’d like you to meet my husband Barry.’

Diana entered the hall like a burst of sunshine. In her mid-forties with striking auburn hair, she was older and taller than my mum, a pretty, petite brunette.

‘Great to meet you,’ she said, extending her hand with a smile. Diamonds flashed and gold bracelets jingled as they slipped from her forearm to her wrist.

Barry shook her hand then turned to her husband.

‘Likewise,’ said George, returning the greeting.

Unlike my tall, dark, athletic dad, George was shorter and older with greyish hair and shrewd, piercingly blue eyes. His florid complexion and bulbous nose showed he enjoyed the good life.

They looked fun!

‘Oh, here’s your little dog!’ Diana exclaimed. "I saw it over the fence the other day. Gorgeous!’ Her bracelets clinked together as she gestured towards me while I sat quietly beside my mistress. ‘A Cavalier King Charles Spaniel?’

‘Yes, she is.’ Barry crouched down from his great height and scooped me up in his arms. ‘Her name is Truffles,’ he continued, showing me off against his chest, ‘but we just call her Truff – or Little Truff.’

Wagging my tail, I sat proudly looking down at everyone while he gently stroked me under my chin, my favourite place for a caress.

‘She was a rescue dog – from the pound,’ he continued. ‘That would’ve been just under two years ago.’

‘We discovered she’d been beaten by her former owners and was terrified of men,’ Chrissie explained, ‘but you’d never know now. Look at her!’

I gazed at Barry with affection and gratitude. Living with the Nelsons had been the happiest time in my life.

‘That spot on top of her head makes her look kind of cute,’ George observed with a grin.

‘It’s the Blenheim lucky spot,’ Chrissie explained, ‘so it’s a very desirable feature.’

‘Well, she certainly had good luck when she found you,’ Diana laughed. Her smile reached the corners of her kind brown eyes and fanned out into a set of fine lines.

‘We think luck went two ways that day,’ Chrissie said, looking up at me. ‘Ours and hers.’

I thumped my tail in agreement.

‘A double blessing,’ Diana mused. She smiled at Barry. ‘May I give her a pat?’

‘She’d love that.’

Diana extended her hand. The jangle of her bracelets sliding down made me start but the fresh, woody perfume she was wearing gave me nothing to fear. My tail gave an involuntary twitch.

She read my body language, and this time her bracelets tinkled like little bells while she stroked me gently on the head. ‘You’re a darling,’ she cooed, ‘and very friendly. Lots of people would cherish a lovely little girl like you – unless they lacked a heart. I often wonder what the world is coming to from the things I see in the news.’

Diana turned to Chrissie. ‘Did you read that article on the front page of the Herald yesterday? It said over fifty-six per cent of dogs taken to the main rescue centres have to be put down because there are not enough homes for them. That’s absolutely shocking.’ She was clearly upset. ‘How can people allow this to happen?’

‘Our archaic dog laws are to blame, and the recession hasn’t helped,’ Barry commented grimly, ‘but we’re lucky to have her.’

‘She’s just what our family needed,’ Chrissie added, ‘and we all love her to bits.’ She gestured towards the door at other end of the hall. ‘Do come on through and meet the children.’

Barry put me down on the floor, so I ran ahead of the adults. Once in the family room, I raced through the open ranch sliders and over the deck to find David and Leila. They were still busy putting their tennis racquets and other gear away in the storeroom at the back of the garage. When I reached them, I twirled around dancing three circles of joy.

‘We’d better hurry before Dad calls us again,’ Leila said. ‘Look at Truffie! I think she likes the new neighbours.’

‘Come on, you kids, where are you?’

‘OK, we’re coming, Dad!’ David shouted as he shut the door behind him. He ruffled my head affectionately then the three of us crossed the grass to the house.

Once within view of the adults, I heard Diana say, ‘Don’t they make a pretty picture …’

Beaming with pride, my mum and dad exchanged glances before Barry came out to meet us.

‘Hey, kids,’ he said. ‘Come and meet the neighbours. Diana, George, this is David – he’s 14 – and Leila’s 13.’

Introductions made, the teenagers joined the adults while I leapt up into my bucket chair. Standing on a sturdy metal frame, the seat is rounded – like a bucket – with a padded lining and a washable blue cover sporting my name. The ultimate in canine luxury, my chair is a bed, sanctuary and an observation post. My favourite spot.

Once settled with my chin on my front paws, I observed Diana giving the kids a long, thoughtful look. ‘You know,’ she said at last, ‘I’ve the strangest feeling I’ve seen you somewhere before – or we’ve already met – but I can’t remember where or when …’

David and Leila looked to their parents.

‘That’s possible, Diana,’ Chrissie said. ‘You see, they feature in a television advertisement for Scrunchie’s Dog Food. It’s been showing in a prime-time slot before the six o’clock news for the past six months.’

‘Of course!’ she exclaimed, a smile lighting her face as she relaxed back into the comfort of the couch. ‘That’s it. I should’ve known. Well, isn’t it extraordinary! You must tell me everything about it.’

‘We’d love to,’ Chrissie said, ‘but first of all I’ll get the coffee, and we’ll put Truff outside before we bring any food in here.’ She turned to the children. ‘Leila, could you give me a hand, sweetheart – and David, let Truff out please, then go and wash your hands.’

Just my luck, I thought, as the