Yeah, this was a good year.
When I think about where I started — I was a stray flashing my tum for gravy on the mean streets of Mill Valley — I can’t believe how far I’ve come.
I feel so lucky. A lot of cats don’t have it this good. I have a roof over my head, a mediocre pet assistant, a cupboard stocked with gravy, and millions of adoring fans.
What more could a tabby ask for?
Professionally, I even accomplished most of my goals. I added more stamps to my passport, expanded my global empire and worked on hundreds of fantastic kitty modeling campaigns.
Here are some of the more memorable ones that come to mind…
Who is Tabs the Cat? About six years ago I befriended a stray, flea-bitten tabby cat with a bad case of worms. I could see he’d fallen on hard times, but his profound knowledge of high fashion and department store cosmetics led me to believe that he was more than meets the eye. We became fast friends, and now he’s actually my boss (and a successful kitty model).
I vividly remember this campaign for NARS. It was RyGos and I working together in New York City. We partied hard. We also did a lot of walking that trip, first all over downtown, and then to chase ducks in Central Park.
I had a blast and really enjoyed working with RyGos. His tum is almost as extraordinary as mine.
I spent a lot of time in Paris this year. I’m still bummed about not winning the Oscar for my work on Les Chat Misérables, but c’est la vie.
I also had a Chanel job in the springtime with Snowflake, which was très magnifique! Hunting mice along the Seine after sunset, mewling for cheese — it was so romantic.
If I weren’t at the pinnacle of my kitty modeling career right now, I could see myself settling down with Snowflake. She’s just so…exciting, and boy can she model!
But I don’t have any room in my life for a relationship right now. It wouldn’t be fair to Snowflake…
Uh…New Zealand with Peter Jackson?
That was another amazing trip. I gotta hand it to my assistant for arranging time with Peter Jackson between the two Hobbit movies. You know you’re in good hands when he’s behind the camera.
What a gorgeous country, too. I hear it’s how California probably looked a few hundred years ago — thick forests, tall, snow-capped mountains…and lots of sheep!
Not my favorite trip this year, but that’s what I get for working with a newbie photographer. You’d think I’d know better by now.
The guy had absolutely no idea what he was doing, but at least I got to work with Steve again. Best Bengal tiger in the kitty modeling business, paws down.
Hilton Head, South Carolina… You know, I surprised myself last summer on that job for CoverCat. I’d never waterskied before, but I think I did alright.
I’ve always had pretty good balance, even though my assistant laughs at me every time I slip on the kitchen tiles… I really should talk to her about that. It’s rude.
Miami for BECCA was fun, of course, but that’s mostly because I got some much-needed beach time.
Venice Beach, California
Speaking of beaches, Venice Beach was cooler than I thought. I expected a lot more dogs…
I met so many musically talented cats down there. It reminded me of my days battling strays on street corners in Mill Valley for treats. I always had a good-sounding meow…
And then there was Tuscany. Really, how can you go wrong?
What was that Ragdoll kitty’s name again…? Patches, Peaches? She was the kitty model I worked with… I can’t remember her name, but she did a good job. I mean, she was nervous, but who wouldn’t be working with a powerhouse kitty modeling superstar like me?
You know what they say — what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas. ‘Nuff said.
Seriously, this was also a milestone year for me. Not only did I turn in some of my all-time best kitty modeling work, but I also penned my very first short story, a 5,000-word tail loosely based on actual events.
I’m reproducing it here in its entirety. Hope you enjoy it, and I’ll see you soon in 2014.
Much love, always,
Tabs could not believe how loud the generator was. The sound reverberated off the walls of his tiny shelter, and probably also off the frigid floor, which except for the one hole cut in the middle of the room, was a 12-inch-thick slab of solid ice.
When his friend, Felix, told Tabs about this place, told him about how ice fishing up here in the Northern Territories was the most relaxing thing he’d ever done, Felix neglected to mention the generator.
Tabs shivered, despite his heavy wool coat, thick fur and thermal kitty underwear, and watched his breath puff in the frosty air.
The one electric bulb hanging from the ceiling briefly dimmed as the generator momentarily sputtered.
Wouldn’t that be perfect, Tabs thought, if the generator conked out and stranded him out here on a frozen lake?
The generator resumed its steady, rhythmic roar, which sounded to Tabs like the loudest lawn mower he’d ever heard.
He wondered what he would do if it stalled. The darkness wouldn’t be a problem for him because he was able to see in the dark, but the cold… How cold would it get in the little shack without the heater? Probably very cold…
He had no transportation, either, thanks to Felix, who talked Tabs into hiring a local bush pilot to make the trip here. Until the pilot returned on the day after Christmas, Tabs was on his own.
With a jolt, he suddenly remembered having his iPhone and pulled it from a pocket inside his coat, thinking that if something happened to the generator, he could call his assistant for help.
He slid his paw across the phone’s screen, and the device sprung to life, displaying more than a dozen illuminated app icons. Instinctively, his eyes went to the upper lefthand corner.
“Meow!” he cursed. No bars. He wouldn’t be able to make a call.
He held up the phone and waved it around in the air, looking for a signal. Nothing until, wait! — he saw one bar for a second. Maybe he could get a stronger signal over there, he thought, looking at the one tiny window in the room.
He hopped down from the chair, a sturdy, old thing made of heavy wood, set the iPhone down on the ice, and wrapped the end of his fishing line around a leg of the chair five times.
That should hold it, he thought, and then the generator stopped.
When he turned to face it, the bottom of his coat brushed the iPhone, which slid directly into the hole in the ice.
Plop, was the sound it made when it splashed into the water.
Uh, oh, Tabs thought, as the now quiet room went dark…
Tabs sat motionless in the shed, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness as the ringing in his ears from the once noisy generator subsided.
Soon, thanks to the sparse moonlight coming in through the one tiny window in the room, he could clearly make out shapes — the chair, his Louis Vuitton luggage and Chanel overnight bag, the generator, electric heater, the hole in the ice and the small wooden workman’s desk — and then details, like the lovely Chanel double C logo, the elegant Louis Vuitton pattern and a familiar-looking tool on top of the desk…
Can opener, he thought. That’s what his assistant called them. He never figured out how to make it work, but he knew that it could produce gravy. His assistant did it all the time.
Knowing it was here, he felt a tinge of relief. Maybe he could figure out how to use it if he had to. If his assistant could use it, it couldn’t be that hard.
Carefully, he walked over to the edge of the hole in the ice and peered down. Water gently lapped against the sides, but its depths were impenetrable, even to his efficient kitty eyes.
“Meow!” he called. Siri! Then he made his way around to the other side of the hole and tried again, louder this time. “Meow!!” Siri!!
No answer… Was she ignoring him, or somehow unable to reply?
“Mrf!” he huffed. Probably the former. These days, it’s just so hard to find good help.
It occurred to Tabs that he wouldn’t be in this situation had his assistant back at the office done her job. She was in charge of travel arrangements, after all, so this was entirely her fault.
“Mmrrrwww…” he grumbled. He was going to give her an earful when he got —
Tabs whipped around and focussed his senses intensely on the door. He heard something outside, something shuffling on the ice. His ears rotated on his head like tiny radar dishes trying to triangulate the source of the sound.
There! He heard it again. Something skilled in the art of espionage. It was close. Right behind the door, and it was big. Tabs could tell. Much bigger than a cat.
Then, the smell. Instinctively, Tabs arched his back to appear larger, triggered his claws and hissed loudly at the door.
Tabs hissed and growled at the thing on the other side of the door, throwing decorum out the window. Sure, it was rude and not very neighborly of him, but he and dogs had never gotten along very well. He thought they were always so…pushy, and clumsy.
That was the thing about dogs, he thought. They had no respect for personal space.
Tabs could hear it sniffing loudly outside, conducting reconnaisance. Tabs knew about their keen sense of smell, and knew that this one probably already knew that Tabs was alone in the shed, terrified, a little on the plump side and wearing Coco Mademoiselle.
“Meeeeooowww,” he groaned, using his office voice. Who the hell is that? “Mrow!” Go away, or I’m calling the police!
No answer, and the sniffing sound stopped. Seconds passed, and Tabs wondered if his threat had worked to scare away the dog.
He got to thinking that he should look for an escape route in case the dog had a key to the door. It seemed unlikely, but Tabs wasn’t sure. The dog was probably a local, after all, and probably knew this area. Maybe it had even watched Tabs arrive.
The thought terrified Tabs, and his tiny heart started pounding. Frantically, he looked around the room again, his fearful eyes barely taking the time to focus.
There was the solitary window, which was shut, and quite small, and at least five feet off the frozen floor. The walls were vertical wooden slats, the ceiling corrugated sheet metal, and the ground was a solid slab of ice, except for the small fishing hole cut in the center.
He looked at the hole for a moment, listening to the lake water jostling within it, then to the now silent generator and rapidly cooling electric heater, his two bags beside the heavy wooden chair by the hole in the ice, a tall stack of wooden crates that he presumed were empty, and then at the workbench pushed up against one of the walls.
Nothing. No ways in or out, except for the door.
He trained his night vision on the door again and focussed his ears like parabolic radar dishes, scanning for the slightest sound…
And then the world exploded. There was a terrible crash against the door, coupled with ceaseless, thunderous barking. The noise caused Tabs to jump three feet in the air, and he landed awkwardly.
The crashing continued, over and over, and the door shuddered. The whole shack shook violently, and the metal roof clanged and buckled. Tabs cowered on the ice, shrinking against the floor, as his wild, wide eyes darted to and fro.
Tabs had never heard barking like that before. It was liquid, visceral fury. No, this wasn’t a dog, Tabs realized. This was a monster.
When the creature struck the door again, the door swung open.
Everything went completely silent as time stopped. What Tabs saw standing before him in the doorway was — at that moment he recognized it and remembered seeing one when he worked as an extra on HBO’s True Blood. The monster was a werewolf, and right then it leapt.
Instinctively, Tabs rolled to his left, sliding on the ice as the creature’s jaws snapped inches from his head. Momentum carried the large beast forward, and it careened into the wooden crates, unable to stop on the ice.
The crates tumbled down, shattering, and appeared to bury the creature beneath them, but Tabs didn’t hesitate. As soon as he regained his footing, he raced toward the open door, snapping up his Chanel overnight bag on the way, and sped out onto the dark, frozen lake.
Once through the door of the ice shack, Tabs was struck by the vastness of the night sky and the frozen lake. He was running on the ice, his little legs churning like propeller blades, his claws scraping for purchase.
Fear drove him faster, forward, deeper into the night. There were dots of light far ahead on the other side of the lake, but they seemed miles away. Nothing to his right but the expanse of the frozen lake, and to his left, the shadowy outline of an outcropping of land — another shore, or an island perhaps, much closer than the far shore but with no signs of life. Only a line of tall trees behind a rocky beach.
Where was the creature now? Tabs wondered. Had it pulled itself out from under the crates in the shack? Was it in pursuit of him now, chasing him down on the lake with its longer canine legs? Tabs couldn’t bring himself to look.
His lungs started to burn, and he realized that his pace was slowing. The lights on the far shore of the lake beckoned him. Tabs knew there was shelter there, people, but there was no way he would be able to run all the way across the lake. It was too far.
He scanned the closer shore to his left again for any signs of help or danger. Just then, the werewolf howled behind him.
It was close! Tabs shuddered, and his muscles briefly convulsed. He lost his footing and spun sideways and end over end on the ice. He slid 20 feet on his side before coming to a stop.
Stunned…Tabs lay there panting, hearing nothing but his own breathing, a ringing in his ears and the pounding of his tiny tabby heart.
He was still alive… That much he could tell, but he had lost his bearings in the fall.
Then, a second howl ripped him awake, immediately restoring his focus. Gingerly, Tabs climbed to his feet on unsteady legs.
The second howl came from his left, along the near shore but down a ways behind him.
A second werewolf? As if in reply, the first one howled again, this time closer.
“Mrow,” Tabs mewled, overcome with despair. Is this it? Is this how my story ends?
“Mrraw!” came a grizzled shout from the near shore. Over here!
Where? Tabs searched for the owner of the raspy voice.
“Mrraaw!” the voice called again. Get up, kid! They’re comin’!
And then Tabs saw a pair of wide feline eyes glowing green on the edge of the dark shore. They belonged to a big gray cat waving a huge paw in his direction.
“Mrow!” the gray cat yelled. You can make it!
I can make it, Tabs repeated to himself, drawing strength from the words. I can make it. He took one step toward the gray cat, and then another. And then he sprung and sprinted toward the shore as fast as he could.
Tabs ran full bore toward the frozen edge of the rocky shore, pumping his tiny tabby legs on the ice like his life depended on it, half skating and out of control, but at least he was skating in the right direction, he thought.
“Meow!” Atta boy! the gray cat growled. It’s voice sounded like sandpaper on the wind. “Mrroww!” Watch out fer dem rocks! The cat gestured frantically at an area to the left of Tabs from where sharp rocks jutted out of the ice like spears. “Mrrreww.” They’ll tear ya apart quicker den dem wolves.
Tabs slowed to an unsteady trot to navigate around the rocks, slipping and sliding every few steps, but he managed to do it. As Tabs covered the last few feet to where the frozen lake met the rocky shore, he was finally able to get a good look at the gray cat. It was bigger and scragglier than any house cat Tabs had ever seen. It looked like a big dog with matted, stiff fur, only it had the face of a cat and friendly feline eyes.
Panting and wobbly, but completely aware of how close the werewolves must be, Tabs dashed up to the gray cat, not wanting to stop. “Mrow!” he managed to say, gasping for air. Thanks!
“Meew!” the gray cat replied. Don’t mention it. Both of them were running together now, side by side along the rocky beach, Tabs following the gray cat’s lead. They were moving steadily up the beach toward what looked like a dirt road at the tree line.
“Mrraow,” the gray cat said. No time for pleasantries, I’m afraid. “Meow, mrow rrow.” That road up there leads to a ranger’s station ’bout a quarter mile in. “Mrow.” Couple o’ cabins, some tall trees, plenty of places to hide.
“Meow?” You alright? the gray cat asked, looking Tabs up and down. “Mrrow.” Watched you take a nasty tumble back there on the ice. How’s yer noggin’?
Tabs was shocked for a moment by the gray cat’s concern but felt it was genuine. Years of globetrotting and kitty modeling had turned Tabs into a pretty good judge of character, and he felt that he could trust this cat.
“Meow,” Tabs replied. It’s fine. My assistant says I’m hard headed. The gray cat nodded once, signifying that he understood.
While they were still running, it was much easier to run on solid ground than the ice, and Tabs was starting to catch his breath. In the moonlight, Tabs saw that scars covered the gray cat’s grizzled features, and chips were missing from both of his ears. Tabs couldn’t tell how old the cat was, but he was clearly Tabs’ senior.
Tabs heard something from back toward the frozen shore, like falling rocks.
“Meew!” the gray cat hissed, looking over his shoulder but not slowing a step. Blast it! “Mraw!” Better pick up the pace!
They were at the mouth of the forest where a dirt road led deeper into the dark woods. The gray cat was fast and picked up the pace, pulling ahead of Tabs.
Tabs felt a twinge of panic as he tried to catch up alongside the gray cat but found that he couldn’t. Tabs was a few feet behind and running flat out like a startled rabbit.
Tall pines lined both sides of the road, blocking much of the moonlight from reaching the forest floor. It was dark and getting darker as they left the rocky beach further behind. Good thing Tabs had the night vision of a master mouser.
Barking. Coming from far behind them. Tabs wasn’t sure at first, but then he was. Like Rottweiler barking, low and full-throated, mixed with growls.
The wolves were talking, but Tabs couldn’t make out the words. Probably trading recipes for ways to prepare cat…whether roasted or grilled.
It pushed Tabs to run a little harder, which brought him up alongside the gray cat, who glanced over, then gestured up ahead with his snout.
“Meow!” We’re here!
The road turned to a circular dirt driveway. Up ahead, at the end of the loop, was a large wooden one-story building, about the size of a Sephora. A green truck was parked in front of what Tabs figured must be the main entrance.
“Mraw,” the gray cat said. It’s an old ranger’s station. They slowed to a trot, both of them panting, down low in stealth formation, and the gray cat guided them around the truck toward the left side of the building.
A boxy ground-level air conditioning unit, about three feet tall, sat flush against the wall. “Mrow?” the gray cat asked. See that plank up there?
Tabs did. It was a narrow wooden plank that rested at an angle from the top of the air conditioner up to a windowsill. The gray cat motioned toward it with his nose, directing Tabs to head that way. “Meow-ow.” You can get to the roof.
“Mrow?” Tabs asked, a little perplexed. Aren’t you coming?
“Mroh,” the gray cat answered, standing his ground. I’ll be right behind you.
Tabs thought about it for a second, wondering why the gray cat didn’t just lead the way.
“Meow!” the gray cat finally ordered, raising his gravely voice. Go on, get!
It jolted Tabs into action. There were some things his little kitty brain struggled with, like doors and can openers, but climbing was not one of them. In about half a second, or two beats of a terrified tabby’s heart, he processed the entire scene with mathematical precision, calculating the proper angle of approach to the plank, the appropriate speed-to-weight ratio and the amount of force he’d have to exert to leap from the windowsill up to the rain gutter, which led up to the roof.
In one fluid maneuver, he hopped up on the air conditioner, zipped up the plank to the windowsill, jumped to a crook where the rain gutter met the wall, and then carefully walked up along the gutter before pulling himself onto the roof.
Yes! He’d made it. It was a wooden roof, easy to walk on, with a shallow slant, and it was much brighter up here under the open sky than it was down in the forest.
Tabs peered over the edge at the gray cat, who looked relieved. Tabs was shocked that the gray cat was still standing on the ground. What was he waiting for? “Meow!” Tabs called down. Hurry!
The wolves would be upon them any moment now, and Tabs thought he even heard their footfalls on the dirt road.
The gray cat nodded once, leapt up on the air conditioner, and pushed the wooden plank off the unit with his paw. It tumbled and crashed to the ground.
“Mrrow!?” Tabs said. What are you doing!? Tabs couldn’t believe his eyes.
The gray cat looked up at Tabs with kindness in his eyes “Mrow,” he spoke softly. I recognized you back there on the lake. “Meow.” Tabs, you’re one of my heroes.
Tabs was speechless. Heroes? What did the gray cat mean?
The gray hopped down to the ground, and then looked back up to Tabs. “Meow-row,” he said, his eyes glistening in the moonlight. You’ll be safe here till morning. I’ll lead them away.
“Mroww,” Tabs mewled, as the gray cat turned back toward the woods. Wait.
But the gray took off like a falcon in the night, disappearing into a copse of thick trees. “Mew…” Tabs whimpered after him. No…
The first of the werewolves came into view, a long-legged black one the color of the crows Tabs policed from his favorite window at home in Novato.
Slowly, Tabs crouched down low at the edge of the roof until his chin was resting on the rain gutter.
The werewolf was stalking, sniffing, its head close to the ground like a metal detector. It was in the driveway now exactly where Tabs and the gray cat had gone through. Tabs expected the wolf to pick up their scent.
It was a bright night with the full moon, and it occurred to Tabs that he was probably easy to spot where he was with the moonlight behind him, but he stayed frozen like an Egyptian statue, not daring to move a muscle.
The only thing he did do was slowly close his eyes until they were just barely open and breath steadily. Cats were good at things like this. Hiding in plain sight. But Tabs imagined that werewolves were also good at hunting.
The second one entered the driveway. This one Tabs recognized from the wooden shed back on the frozen lake, and it was huge! Bigger than the black one by half, with mottled brown and gray fur and thick, broad shoulders.
The black werewolf seemed to bow reverently and made a whining noise as the larger one approached.
Tabs couldn’t believe just how big the bigger werewolf was. Keeping perfectly still with his eyes open barely a fraction of an inch, Tabs compared the creature to the nearby pickup truck, and wagered they were almost the same size.
Or maybe that was just the terror talking…
Tabs remained motionless while the two werewolves inspected the area, following their snouts. As they exhaled, their hot breath was visible in the frigid air.
They circled the pickup truck in opposite directions, checking carefully behind the tires.
Whew! Tabs thought. Good thing I didn’t hide there.
The werewolves must have picked up the scent because they remained quiet and moved stealthily, and they were focussing a lot of attention in this area.
Minutes passed. It was so cold up there on the roof that Tabs started shivering. He desperately wanted to hop up and start moving to warm his bones, but there was no way he was about to do that.
He would just have to deal with the cold. It wouldn’t be the first time…
He thought back to all of those long, cold nights he spent fending for himself and battling for scraps on the mean streets of Mill Valley in his kitten hood. Those were some cold nights, too.
Feezing, and feeling somewhat secure that the wolves would not find him, and even if they did, would not be able to reach him on the roof, Tabs allowed his mind to wander.
He thought about his makeup collection, his coveted online kitty modeling portfolio, gravy, his favorite hill at home and his assistant…
She was actually pretty nice, he concluded, even when she got on his last nerve.
Somewhere off in the woods, a branch cracked. It wasn’t a natural sound. Tabs heard it, and the werewolves heard it, too. Both of them appeared in the driveway from wherever they’d been searching and looked in that direction, standing tall on all fours, with their heads erect and their ears perked.
“Mrrrrrrowww!” came a distant voice. Help me! Please help!
Tabs felt his heart drop. It was the gray cat.
The werewolves took off at a full sprint in that direction, barking, growling and leaping over downed branches. Wracked with worry for the gray cat but feeling powerless to help him, Tabs watched the wolves go until they were too far into the forest to see them.
“Mrrrrrrowww!” the gray cat had said. Help me! Please help!
Tabs had to do something.
He stood up for the first time in what seemed like hours but was really only a few minutes. Compressed as he’d been while the werewolves were searching, he was retaining some of his body heat, but the full force of the chilly wind dug deep into the downy fur of his soft underbelly now that he was standing.
The plank Tabs had used to climb up to the windowsill, and from there up to the roof, was almost directly below him on the ground, which was covered by pine needles. Lot of good that’ll do me now, Tabs thought.
The roof was long and wide and, except for a chimney and a few air conditioning units, completely empty. Tabs wondered if there might be another way down, maybe a fence he could hop down to or a stack of boxes or something somewhere on the other side.
He scampered along the edge of the roof, looking for anything he could use to climb down.
Deep in the forest, something roared. It was deep and strong and powerful. It sounded huge!
What the heck was that!?
Then, the werewolves were howling. Tabs looked but couldn’t see anything. The wolves were howling and barking and yipping. And there was something else, too. Yelping. Something was yelping in what sounded like pain.
The gray cat?
The fierce battle raged like thunder for three seconds, and then it stopped.
After that, nothing.
A minute passed. The next sound Tabs heard was his own exhaling. He’d been holding his breath.
He shook violently now, from both terror and temperature, and breathed in fits and starts.
Tabs thought he heard something at that moment, a brief groan from somewhere off in the forest, but he listened hard for it and didn’t hear it again.
He did hear something else, though, a distant whump-whump-whumping that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at the same time, and it was getting progressively louder.
“Mrow!” Tabs exclaimed. Helicopter!
When the chopper passed the tree line and entered the area directly over the rangers’ station, it was like suddenly turning on a lightning storm in a hurricane. Before he could avert his eyes, Tabs was blinded by the helicopter’s spotlight and blasted off the roof by the downdraft.
He was toppling end over end in the air, with the world turned completely white through his wide, temporarily useless eyes. Tabs tried to right himself like only cats can but couldn’t see the ground to gauge his distance.
The impact knocked him unconscious.
When he awoke, Tabs was looking up at the stars. He was lying on his side on a bed of pine needles — the forest floor. He raised his head a few inches and looked around. “Mew,” he groaned. Guess I’m alive.
The forest was completely silent save a distant whump-whump-whumping sound…
“Mraw!” he cried. No! The helicopter! How long had he been out?
Trying to get up on all fours, he put weight on his right paw and felt a sharp pain. Dang!
The chopper didn’t sound like it was leaving yet. Tabs thought it sounded like it was searching the beach.
Were they looking for him? He thought they must be. His assistant would have dispatched help as soon as Tabs missed his first check-in time. He wondered how long ago that had been…
Despair, and pangs of guilt and shame, filled him as he thought about the gray cat and how it sacrificed itself to save Tabs. One cat, even a grizzled, tough old codger like that one, against two huge werewolves? It must have known it wouldn’t have a chance, and yet it didn’t hesitate…
Tabs scanned the area one last time, and then, sighing sadly, started hobbling off toward the beach and the sound of the helicopter.
Avoiding the dirt road, stayed inside the forest the entire time. It was slow going with his bad paw, navigating over branches and logs, but Tabs figured he was making pretty good time. He was terrified that the helicopter would give up the search, and that pushed him to limp faster.
Almost there now, the trees swayed. Tabs could see light shifting through the pines from the chopper’s spotlight and feel the draft. He hurried faster and wondered if the werewolves were here, somewhere, also searching for Tabs.
Tabs was just taking his first few steps on the rocky sand when the helicopter started to pull away…
“Meow!” he shouted after it. Wait! “MRRROW!!” I’M RIGHT HERE!!
He ran to the edge of the frozen lake, but it was no use. They were giving up the search here and heading toward the ice fishing shack where this whole adventure began.
And then, the helicopter stopped.
It paused in the air over the ice near the edge of the frozen beach, training its powerful spotlight down on something.
Tabs limped as fast as he could, ignoring his cramping muscles. Was this his second chance?
But wait! — there was something moving on the ice in the center of the spotlight.
Oh, no! Had they found him?
There, in the center of the spotlight, waving both paws over its head, was the gray cat.
As Tabs approached, smiling from ear to ear, the helicopter landed a safe distance away. Out popped two familiar faces, the first belonging to Karl Lagerfeld, and the second to Choupette (his cat).
Figures, Tabs thought…
Tabs limped over to the gray cat. “Mrow…?” he asked, amazed to see his new friend still kicking. How…?
The gray cat only grinned. “Mrrrow?” Oh, that fight? “Mrow-wow-wow.” See, I introduced those two wolves to an old friend of mine.
“Mrrrow.” He’s a grizzly…so I don’t think those wolf boys will be bothering us anymore tonight.