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  Alfie had tried to explain to Mum that it wasn’t going to work, but she hadn’t been in a very good mood, as his baby sister Jess had just thrown a bowlful of lovingly mashed carrots into the toaster.

  “If he doesn’t like it, he won’t eat it,” she’d snapped, trying to fish the orange goo out with a spoon. “And that’ll have the same effect in the long run. Stop fussing, Alfie!”

  Alfie had sighed, and measured the correct, tiny amount of diet food into Penguin’s bowl. It didn’t even cover the fish pattern on the bottom. Alfie had crossed his fingers behind his back and set it down in front of Penguin, who was coiling himself adoringly around Alfie’s ankles.

  Penguin had stopped dead, and stared up at Alfie accusingly.

  “Sorry! The vet said!” Alfie protested. “Your legs are going to start hurting if you don’t go on a diet.”

  Penguin sniffed suspiciously at the little brown pellets, then turned round and went straight out of the cat flap.

  Later that evening, two sausages mysteriously disappeared while Alfie’s mum wasn’t looking.

  The diet cat food lasted about a week before Mum binned it. She told Alfie that it was expensive anyway, but since she’d now had to replace most of what was in the fridge as well, it was like feeding three cats instead of one.

  Penguin sat on one of the kitchen chairs looking happily plump and watched as she put the rest of the bag into the bin.

  “That cat is smirking at me!” Mum said crossly, as she clanged the bin shut. “This really can’t go on, Alfie. It’s for his own good!”

  “I don’t think he thinks he’s fat,” Alfie explained.

  “You’ll just have to make sure he gets more exercise.” Mum sniffed. “Maybe you should put a sausage on a string and make him chase it up and down the garden.”

  Now, looking at Penguin’s stomach gently folding over the edges of the branch, Alfie had to admit he was larger than he should be. But it was hard to make a cat exercise when he didn’t want to. Alfie had tried racing up and down the garden, and even throwing a bouncy ball for Penguin to chase. Penguin had sat on the garden bench, eyeing him with fascinated interest, as though he wondered why Alfie was bothering. After all, it wasn’t as if he was a dog.

  HOLLY has always loved animals. As a child, she had two dogs, a cat, and at one point, nine gerbils (an accident). Holly’s other love is books. Holly now lives in Reading with her husband, three sons and a very spoilt cat.

  Scholastic Children’s Books

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  First published in the UK by Scholastic Ltd, 2013

  This electronic edition published by Scholastic Ltd, 2014

  Text copyright © Holly Webb, 2013

  Illustration copyright © Helen Stephens, 2013

  The rights of Holly Webb and Helen Stephens to be identified as the author and illustrator of this work have been asserted by them.

  Cover illustration copyright © Helen Stephens, 2013

  eISBN 978 1407 14676 8

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, incidents and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

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