Porridge the Tartan Cat and the Loch Ness Mess Read online

  For my neighbours, Dawn and Michael,

  and their big brawsome family – A.D.

  For my cat Frankie –

  the opposite of Porridge, but still… – Y.S.

  Contents

  Title Page

  Dedication

  1. Su-purr Porridge

  2. Heads or Heads

  3. The Next Chapter

  4. The Wish

  5. Fun Guy

  6. I’m OK!

  7. Soggy Porridge

  8. Behind the Waterfall

  9. The Incredible Green Hulk

  10. All Aboard

  11. ???????

  12. Big Trouble

  13. Clunk-a-lunk-a-lunk-a-splash

  14. Anchor Away

  15. Identically Different

  16. Not a Donkey Named Dave

  17. Up, Up and a Whiff

  18. Rats

  19. Dabble with the Dibble

  20. Down in the Mouth

  21. Gloopy Glue

  22. Knock Knock

  Copyright

  1

  Su-purr Porridge

  Hi, I’m Porridge the Tartan Cat.

  I’d love to know your name. Shout it so I can hear you.

  Whoops, I didn’t hear you over the noise of my stomach rumbling for fishy biscuits.

  Mmmm, fishy biscuits.

  I live in Tattiebogle town with Ross and Isla, the McFun twins. We all go on incredible adventures together. Afterwards, I cat-a-log each tartan tail tale into a fabuliffic book just like this one.

  Porridge the Tartan Cat and the Loch Ness Mess is packed with Porridge. (Me, not the gloopy stuff you have for breakfast.) And it’s all about a famous loch, full of mystery… and fish.

  Mmmm. Fish.

  Why not make yourself comfortable and enjoy a magical adventure where wishes really do come true?

  Me-wow!

  2

  Heads or Heads

  FLUBB-LUBB-A-LUBB-LUB-LUB!

  That was the sound the washing machine made as it flubb-lubb-a-lubb-lub-lubbed to a stop. The McFun twins watched their dad open the round door and take out my tartan blanket. It had shrunk to the size of this wee page.

  Me-sigh.

  “You need to follow the instructions,” said Ross.

  Aye, Dad had washed it on the I’ve-no-idea-what-this-button-does-but-I’ll-press-it-anyway setting!

  “Sorry about that, Porridge,” he said, with a shrug. “These new machines have too many fiddly buttons and instructions. I like really old things, like really old fossils.”

  “And really old jokes,” giggled Isla.

  “Here’s a good one,” said Dad, dusting off his favourite joke. “What do you call a dinosaur with no eyes?”

  3… 2… 1…

  “A dnosaur!”

  Ross groaned. “That joke is so old I bet the dinosaurs invented it.”

  “Want to see something else really old?” Dad showed the twins a dusty coin. “I found this Roman denarius on Hadrian’s Wall.”

  “Well, on my wall I’ve got a poster of Hamish McBoot,” giggled Isla. “He’s playing in the Cup Final today. Can we watch the match?”

  “I’d rather you two came out on a fossil hunt with me – it’s a lovely day for digging!” Dad gazed at the sunny sky full of sun and, er, sky. “Here’s what we’ll do. I’ll toss this coin and if it lands on TAILS you can stay in and see the match, but if it’s HEADS you’re both coming to Loch Ness with me. I have a feeling in my bones we’ll find some dinosaur bones. Long ago, dinosaurs walked around Scotland!”

  Only because cars weren’t invented, I meowed.

  “What’s that, Porridge?” said Isla.

  “I think he wants to come too,” said Ross.

  “Only if it’s HEADS.” Dad flicked the coin so high it nearly flew off the page. It tinkled to a stop by my furry front paws. “HEADS!” he said, without looking.

  The twins peered down at the head of an old Roman emperor.

  “Dad wins,” said Isla.

  “I guess we need to get ready,” said Ross.

  They trudged into the hallway to get their coats. I was already wearing my fur coat so I stayed put. Dad reached down for the denarius, but before he could touch it, I flipped it over with a suspicious claw. Both sides were HEADS!

  Me-trick!

  “It’s a double-headed coin,” said Dad, winking at me. He pocketed the coin and picked up a dusty bag of tools for the impending dig. “You’ll love this, Porridge. Digging is fun.”

  Aye, for daft dugs.

  I padded towards the car behind Dad and the twins. The air was full of strange chomping sounds and not-so-strange grass clippings. Mum and Gran were in the front garden with Gadget Grandad, trying out his GrassGnasher.

  “I made it out of old false teeth,” explained Grandad, with a toothy grin.

  Me-chomp!

  “By gum, it nibbles the grass super-short,” cried Mum, who liked super-short things (especially shortbread).

  “Porridge! Watch out for ma wallies!” warned Gran, as the gnawing gnashers nearly nipped ma tail. I scarpered straight into the car and curled in a cosy cat box, beside the twins.

  “Time to go to Loch Ness and find some fossils!” said Dad, keen to turn the key and start the car.

  Time to go to Loch Ness and find some fish! meowed me, keen to turn the page and start the next chapter…

  3

  The Next Chapter

  By the magic of storytelling, we arrived at Loch Ness quicker than you can say, “It’s not really magic, it’s just turning a page.” Ahead of us was a wide stretch of cold wet water.

  Me-brrr.

  And a grey, stony beach that looked like a big cat litter tray. At one end, we saw an unusual sight. A rusty old helicopter was getting ready to take off. The wind from its chop-chopchoppy blades made the water chop-chop-choppy too.

  I guess that’s why it’s called a chopper.

  An eager line of tourists climbed aboard, wearing t-shirts that said We’re all going on a Nessie hunt!

  The blades whirled faster and the chopper lifted off. It rattled and clattered over my head, and the passengers took pictures of a cool tartan cat.

  (Me, of course.)

  “Will the tourists find Nessie?” asked Isla, as the chopper flew over the mysterious grey water.

  “That’s impossible,” said Dad. “But we might find dinosaur bones under our feet.”

  Hmmm. While they’re looking for a legend, we might find a leg end!

  (A legend always has a grain of truth in it – especially The Legend of the Grain of Truth. I think the Loch Ness Monster is as real as you and me. Och, as real as me anyway, I’m not sure about you.)

  Dino Dad led us to a patch of dusty ground that had been roped off so archaeologists like him could dig for bones. I padded towards the nearby loch, hoping to find a wee school of fish – or a big university of fish.

  Me-yum!

  The view was brawsome. Ross and Isla came to look with me.

  “That waterfall over there is like a white curtain,” said Isla, with a lovely smile. (And a lovely simile.)

  “I’d love to see a monster, especially Nessie.”

  “How about a monster footprint? Here’s one.” Dad knelt by a deep dent in the ground. “It was made millions of years ago by a dinosaur.”

  “What made that footprint?” Isla pointed to some wet prints by the shore.

  “A soggy tartan cat,” chuckled Dad.

  Me-drip.

  (NEVER try to get fish from a loch. Always get them from a fishmonger. That’s my top tartan tip.)

  I sat on a comfy mound of earth and dried my wet f
ur in the warm sunshine. I swept my tail happily from side to side, whipping up dust that tickled my nose.

  Cat-CHOOOO!

  Words blew everywhere like the dust. It took me ages to find them all.

  Me-oops.

  Everyone else was busy. The twins were busy sweeping away the soil looking for dino bones. Dad was busy scribbling notes. And I was busy sitting on ma bahookie. (It’s a cat thing.)

  Me-yawn.

  “Have you found anything?” I heard Dad ask the twins.

  “One rusty nail,” replied Isla.

  “Two dusty snails,” added Ross, placing them under a shady bush.

  I was feeling hot so I stylishly swished my tail again, because it keeps me cool. (And looks cool too).

  Dad spied something under my tail. Suddenly, his eyes lit up like two candles on a toddler’s cake. He did a daft dance like a dad at a disco. “Congratulations, Porridge. You’ve found a big bone!”

  Me-what!?

  Don’t tell anyone. Especially not a daft dug.

  Me-cringe.

  Ross and Isla helped Dad dig away more of the mud. They gazed in wonder at a huge, Y-shaped bone.

  “What is it, Dad?” asked Isla.

  “A spellbinding discovery,” said the excited archaeologist. He spun on his heels then froze on one leg and had a wee think for the rest of this sentence. “I think it’s a fossilised furcula: in other words, a big old wishbone.”

  “Is it from a giant chicken?” joked Ross.

  “A mighty megalosaurus, more like,” gushed Dad. “It’s my favourite dinosaur.”

  He gave the wishbone a really big hug. At once the air crackled and the wishbone glowed, but Dad didn’t seem to notice. Next, to pull it out of the ground, he gave it really big tug!

  And that was when the trouble began…

  MIGHTY MEGA TROUBLE!

  Me-oops!

  4

  The Wish

  “I love megalosauruses. I wish I was a mighty megalosaurus,” said Dad, just as the massive magical wishbone went SNAP!

  And in a mighty-mega FLASH his wish came true!

  Me-wow!

  He grew mighty-mega claws and mighty-mega jaws, mighty-mega scales and a mighty-mega tail! It was a sight that I’ll never forget. (Och, if I do forget, I’ll read this chapter again.)

  Everything about the megalosaurus was mighty-mega, and if I have to write mighty-mega any more I’ll get grumpy.

  Mighty-mega grrrumpy.

  “It’s megamazincredibrill…” spluttered Ross.

  “It’s Dino Dad!” yelled Isla.

  Dino Dad gazed at his reflection in the silvery water, then roared with delight! The twins couldn’t believe their eyes. So I grabbed Dad’s phone out of his bag and took a quick selfie with the dinosaur in the background doing a daft Dino Dad dance.

  Me-selfie!

  (I’ll show it to you later, if you like.)

  I put the phone back and gawped at Dino Dad.

  Dino Dad scooped up the twins in his claws and spun them around playfully. He twirled them in circles like a roundabout. Then rocked them up and down like a dino-see-saw.

  “This is ultramazincredibrilliant!” whooped Ross.

  “Way better than the play park,” shouted Isla, sliding down Dino Dad’s tail.

  WHEEEEE!

  “I love having a Dino Dad,” giggled Ross.

  “Me too,” agreed Isla. “The trouble is, he’s too big to drive us home, or fit in our house.”

  “You’re right,” replied Ross, frowning a little.

  “We’re going to have to change him back somehow,” said his sister.

  Dino Dad ran past them, looking hot and bothered from all the spinning.

  “We’ll have to catch him first!” said Ross.

  Dino Dad leapt into the loch to cool off.

  SPA-LOOOSHHH!

  Water went everywhere! And I mean EVERYWHERE! So this book might be a bit soggy round the edges (like me). Sorry about that.

  Me-drip.

  5

  Fun Guy

  CHOP-CHOP-CHOP

  The twirling, swirling, Nessie-hunting helicopter was heading back to the shore! Eager tourists snapped Dino Dad with their mighty megapixel cameras.

  SNAP SNAP SNAP

  And Dino Dad snapped back with his mighty-mega pointy jaws.

  SNAP SNAP SNAP

  The helicopter buzzed around Dino Dad like a pesky fly. Then it swooped down low, landed, and six dizzy tourists tumbled onto the shore. The grinning pilot stepped out and shooed them away. Then he turned to stare at us.

  Me-gulp!

  I had spotted a spotted toadstool on his captain’s hat. The twins did too.

  “There’s only one guy that fond of fungi,” gasped Ross.

  The three of us shouted out his name (if you know it, join in too):

  FERGUS MCFUNGUS!

  Maybe you recognise him from another of my adventures? He is mouldier than a mushy mushroom, and rotten as a zombie’s teeth. All he ever wants to do is take over the world… and destroy things like volcanoes and fishy biscuits and elephants.

  Me-groan.

  “AT LAST I’VE FOUND THE LOCH NESS MONSTER!” said Fergus, with great big sighs of relief and, um, great big letters of relief too.

  “It’s NOT Nessie!” yelled Isla.

  “And it’s NOT a monster!” cried Ross. “It’s our dad and he’s really nice. He reads us stories at night and lets us stay up late at the weekend.”

  Fergus didn’t believe them. “This big beastie has terrible jaws, cruel claws and evil elbows. It looks like a monster to me! Soon it will be mine, all mine. Mwah-ha-ha!”

  “Why?” asked Isla.

  “Because I’m a master criminal who is up to no good,” boasted Fergus, “and here’s ma signed certificate to prove it!” He held up something shiny.

  “That’s a crisp packet!” groaned Ross. “You just scoffed all the crisps and wrote your name on it.”

  Fergus groaned back. “OK, I don’t have a certificate but I do have a MONSTROUS plan. A plan so monstrous it must be muttered very quietly so no meddling kids can hear. First, I’ll fly this MONSTER to ma secret secret ship out at sea. Then I’ll scan and 3D-print it and create an ARMY of MONSTERS so I can take over the world and destroy all the volcanoes and fishy biscuits and, um, the other thing…”

  Elephants.

  “You’re rubbish at muttering, Fergus,” said Isla. “We heard all of your plan.”

  “Bah. I’m much better at snatching monsters!” With that, Fergus hopped into his helicopter, flew up high and hovered right over Dino Dad’s head. He opened a hatch and lowered a giant grabber – as if he was trying to win a teddy from a toy machine!

  NOOOOO! I wailed.

  The twins wailed too. “Leave our Dino Dad alone!”

  All at once, the grabber’s three metal fingers closed with a colossal CLANG! and missed Dino Dad by the thickness of a page!

  Me-phew!

  “Bah, this is just like the time I tried to pick up a toy teddy!” grumbled Fergus, lifting the grabber to have another go.

  “Run!” cried Isla, but Dino Dad didn’t budge.

  “Maybe he doesn’t understand humans any more,” groaned Ross.

  “What about clever cats?” Isla looked at me with hope in her eyes and a fishy biscuit in her fingers.

  It was worth a try. As you know, I speak lots of languages, except Mouse. (Actually, I squeak that.)

  “Run and hide!” I ordered, in a croaky, rasping hiss.

  Och, I spoke Dinosaur!

  Dino Dad nodded slowly then started to run.

  “Nice one, Porridge,” said Isla, handing over a wee fishy treat.

  Me-yum!

  Dino Dad stepped over a wooden gate and lumbered across a crowded campsite.

  “Follow that dinosaur,” shouted Ross. It wasn’t easy. I had to squ-eeeeeeeee-ze under the gate, tear across a field full of tents. And not trip on any pesky tent ropes.

  Me-splat!

&nb
sp; 6

  I’m OK!

  I tumbled on the grass and skidded to a full stop by this comma, which was a bit confusing. Punctuation is like that.

  To my surprise, I saw a friendly face that belonged to a big pal of mine. And a friendly trunk that belonged to a big pal of mine. And friendly legs that belonged to a big pal of mine. And a friendly belly… and a friendly bahookie… and two friendly ears… And if you put all that together you get Basil the friendly elephant, a big pal of mine!

  Basil was on holiday with his owner Mavis Muckle, our next-door neighbour. He unpacked his trunk with a tremendous sneeze!

  Mavis popped her head out of the tent. “Och, hello Porridge, are you here with the McFun family?”

  I pointed up and up and up and up and up and up at a tall megalosaurus! Mavis looked up and up and up and up too. Och, she got such a fright that her hair turned white, but it was white anyway so that was OK. Her knees knock-knock-knocked but this was no time for jokes.

  I dashed after Dino Dad, who darted into a wood made of wood and hid behind some leaves made of, er, leaves. We could hear Fergus’s helicopter coming closer…

  “I know you’re in there!” shouted Fergus. He tilted the helicopter and fanned the trees until every last leaf had blown away.

  Now Dino Dad stuck out like a sore squirrel on a holly bush.

  The rusty, gusty rotor blades sent lots of tents flying. A tall blue box suddenly swirled overhead.

  “Is that a toilet?” asked Ross.

  “Och, aye, the loo,” said Mavis, who had just said the best joke in this book.