The Great Sausage Heist

THE SAUSAGE THIEF

You just couldnt ignore this cat. He kept pinching sausages from Grahams little corner shop, and he did it in such a way that, honestly, it was impossible to get cross with him. If anything, Graham looked forward to the whole business. Hed pull out his phone and film the whole show, then later in the evening, he and his wife would sit at the kitchen table, watch the videos, and have a good laugh together.

This cat, who Graham named Oliver, would sit outside the open doorproper casual. He pretended he just happened to stop for a breather, glancing about and making sure the coast was clear. Graham would hide behind a fridge, trying not to giggle as he recorded the action.

Once Oliver was confident no one was watching, hed slip inside, head straight for the sausage stand by the counter, and as soon as hed made his choicebe it a banger, a Cumberland, whateverhed snatch it and make a lightning dash back outside.

But hunger always got the better of him. Hed only manage a few metres down the street before giving in, plonking himself on the pavement to tuck in.

And right on cue, Graham would pop outside and call, not coming too close, Good, eh?

Oliver would look up at him, give him a sleepy sort of meow as if to say, Oh, absolutely.

Glad you like it, Graham would reply. Come again, anytime.

Now, youre probably wondering: what were those sausages doing, just sitting out, not in the fridge, not even in a prime spot? And why were there always a few lying near the edge, easy to nab? Well, its simple really. Graham had a soft spot for the cat.

Hed noticed Oliver when he first wandered up, scrawny as anything, all ribs and pointy shoulders. But every time Graham tried approaching him with something to eat, Oliver wouldnt have ithe dodged away, refusing anything that came from a human hand.

So, Graham came up with a plan: he started laying out a few sausages near the front, not too far from the door. This way, Oliver could pinch them himself, earning his food in a cats own honest wayby stealing it. And it worked. Bit by bit, Graham would move the sausages a little further into the shop, until eventually they rested on the bottom shelf of the stand with all the other deli bits, right by the floor. Thats where he set up Olivers buffet.

Truth is, Oliver could stroll in and help himself to anything by that point, but for him, it was all about the thrill of the theft. Pinched food tasted better, apparently.

In time, Graham put out a proper water bowl in the alley, a big dish of the poshest cat food, and even a plastic box full of fresh litter beside the shop. He also set up an old kennelled dog bed just outside, lined with an extra warm tartan blanket.

Oliver still kept his distance and wouldnt let anyone touch him, but he seemed to enjoy a chat. Whenever Graham followed him out after a daring sausage heist, hed start a conversation, and Oliver would pause mid-dinner, look up and murmur back, almost like they were old mates catching up.

But lately, one thing had Graham puzzled. Oliver had plumped up nicely, looking positively glossy and well-fed. Yet, every day, he continued his sausage raids, twice a day, vanishing with his bounty out of sight round the corner.

More than once, Graham tried to sneak after him, but Oliver was a master of dodging tails. So, eventually, Graham set up a little camera outside, feeding the footage into his computer in the shop office. One day, he finally discovered Olivers secret.

There, peeking from a basement window down the alley, a tiny ginger kitten emerged. Shivering with excitement, the kitten threw herself at the sausage Oliver brought her.

That evening, with tears in her eyes, Grahams wife barked at him, You have to bring those two home! Tomorrow, Graham, I mean it! But it wasnt that simple. Catching Oliver these days was easyhalf the time he napped on the shops doormatbut there was no way to get to the kitten.

Days went by. Through the camera, Graham watched the little ginger kitten come out for water from Olivers bowl, sometimes doze in the dog bed, but if anyone got too close, shed shoot off like a rocket.

Then came the day everything changed. Graham heard this odd noise coming from the shops entranceshop was quiet, no customersso he went to investigate. There he found the ginger kitten sat on the mat, yowling as loud as she pleased.

Whats up, little one? he asked, surprised.

The kitten looked right at him, then dashed off towards the back. Graham followed without hesitation. Behind the bins, Oliver was sprawled out, clearly hurta dog bite on his back leg. He was whimpering in pain, and the kitten pressed into his side, crying out again.

Oh, you poor things, Graham muttered, pulling off his jacket. He wrapped up Oliver and scooped up the ginger kitten, tucking her gently into his coat pocket.

He locked up the shop and drove them straight to the vets. Five hours passed as the vet cleaned Olivers wound and stitched him up. In those hours, Graham grew attached to the lively little kitten, whom he decided to call Embershe was fiery, playful, chatty, and bold.

That evening, Graham brought the post-op Oliver and Ember home, both still groggy. His wife was over the moon. And you know what women do when theyre thrilledthey ring their mates, dont they? It takes ages, with plenty of explaining, laughs, sympathy and suggestions.

By the time she finished her marathon catch-up, Graham, Oliver, and Ember were all sprawled fast asleep on the bed. Grahams wife chuckled, Well, looks like Ill have to sleep on the sofa then! But Ember happily squirmed over, cuddled up, and kneaded her with her tiny paws.

That, my friend, is how they finally found their forever home.

These two grand, pampered cats are a far cry from the scruffy strays they once were. Sometimes, Oliver will absent-mindedly start licking Ember, and she never objects. Actually, I think it reminds them both how far theyve come.

And just across the road, outside the cobblers, theres now a little grey cat. The lady at the shoe shop is always popping over to Grahams corner shop to pick up something tasty for her. Maybe shell take her home someday. Maybe one day all of them will find homes, and cats will become so rare youll have to queue up and pass a test just to get one.

What do you reckondo you think something like that could ever happen?