Huckleberry and Sunny

“As he climbed onto Pablo (that was the name of his tractor, named after his grandfather who had started the farm, many years before). He plonked down on the worn leather seat and started the engine. Pablo was a little temperamental and rather like his grandfather of old, coughed and spluttered across the farm with a degree of reluctance. It wasn’t that the tractor didn’t like farming it was just that it was old and wanted a well-deserved rest. Pablo had got fond of chickens laying their eggs in his engine when it as still warm and the mice nesting in the soft cosy padding of his leather seat. Farmers as you may well know already, work very hard but are also partial to a cat nap now and again. Especially after a full cheese and broccoli flan for afternoon snack. So as the tractor bumbled and jolted across the track in the late afternoon sun, the melodic chug of the engine and the toil of the day had made the farmer a little sleepy. So much so that he decided to catch a nap under a nearby tree. He wearily climbed down from the tractor and made his way to take a well-earned nap. As Sunny and Huckleberry padded lazily through the 7-acre field they noticed the tractor, with its load of hay, idling on the gentle slopes…quietly chugging. Huckleberry thought it strange that the tractor still chugged with no farmer sat on its worn and springy seat. Sunny perked up his ears and listened for the farmer, perhaps he was talking to a stray cow nearby. Sunny and Huckleberry both curious as to the situation (as you know cats generally have a curious nature) approached the tractor and bounded with ease into the ram shackled trailer attached to the back of the tractor. As they did so the tractor gave out an almighty wheeze and began to move forward, slowly at first but then as the slope began to increase the tractor began to gather speed. “Pablo, what is happening bleated Huckleberry softly, you seem to have lost the farmer! and as far as I know mice (who by now had poked their heads from up underneath the spongey seat) are not allowed to drive tractors in the 7-acre field! “ Pablo coughed and wheezed once more as his worn rubber tyres began to move faster “The farmer has forgotten to turn my engine off and put my brakes on…I cannot drive myself and I cannot stop. If I carry on down this slope, I will crash into the 7-acre hedge…where Mr and Mrs Barbosa are teaching their children how to build nests in the hedge” Mr and Mrs Barbosa had raised their many children in the 7-acre hedge as is the tradition for common blackbirds from these parts and a brush with a troublesome tractor would not be well received. As the tractor gained speed Sunny had an idea. Now I did mention earlier that Sunny was the only cat I know that could play the trumpet…I had only really heard him do it once when the barn had caught fire in the hottest summer I remember. In fact, I am not sure where he got the trumpet from or how he learned to play it. “Huckleberry… stand tall and straight in the hay at the back of the tractor and I will jump onto your back. We must alert the farmer and have him stop Pablo from running away” The mice nodded in agreement with Sunny and gestured for Huckleberry to bounce into the back of the trailer, pronto!! Huckleberry bounded into the soft hay in the back of the trailer, shortly followed by Sunny, who boinged straight onto Huckleberry’s back, balancing with all the agility and purpose of a cat on a mission to avert sure disaster. From the soft white fur under his chin Sunny pulled out a small red trumpet and rising onto his back legs put the trumpet to his tiny mouth, took a deep deep breath and closed his eyes. As he blew into the trumpet a strange, muffled sound wheezed from the end…rather like a balloon being let down…. It was not the sound that the mice or Huckleberry had expected…with a further and deeper breath Sunny blew once more and to his surprise a small berry plopped from the end of the trumpet and onto Huckleberry’s head before bouncing onto the ground. The mice all shook their tiny heads and some of them even stifled a tiny guffaw at the trumpeting cats misplaced tune. Sunny threw his head back ignoring the giggling mice and summoned his best breath and tried again. If you have ever been by the sea when a ship is passing by blowing its foghorn, then sound that came from the trumpet was at least as loud and rasped across the 7-acre field like a speeding motorbike...hurtling towards the sleeping farmers ears in a bid to wake him up.”