Clarence the Cat was your usual barnyard cat. It was his job to protect the fields, the barn, and the house from rat and bird infestations. He did his job and he did it well. He was the best mouser in town.
One morning Clarence was stalking a particularly clever rat through the grain fields. This rat had eluded capture several times and was beginning to be quite a nuisance. He had been chewing the bottoms of several stalks of wheat which was not good for the farmer. This morning, Clarence had spotted the rat nibbling on some wheat seeds that he had knocked to the ground. Clarence flattened himself to the ground and slowly approached his target. Just before he pounced a little red hen dashed over, squawking and flapping her wings. The startled rat scampered off. Clarence had lost him again.
"Ooo, seeds!" The little red hen clucked loudly. "Who will help me plant these seeds?" She asked excitedly.
Clarence was in no mood for the hen's games. "Not I," said the cat as he slunk away to find his prey again.
The seasons changed and with the harvest came Clarence's heaviest teaching load. Miss Florine had birthed four kittens to him that spring and now it was time to teach them to hunt. The rats came in greater numbers during harvest, eager to feast on the farmer's plentiful crops.
Clarence took his four students to the field and tried to teach them the basics of pouncing. Mittens and Tiger were ready to learn but JuJu and Hyperion only wanted to play. They chased each other around and jumped and clawed and tumbled about, knocking into their siblings and creating a fuss.
"Calm down, you two. You need to listen to learn," Clarence called to them, but it only made them more eager to play. JuJu swatted at Clarence's tail and Hyperion pounced on him from behind and flattened his head to the ground. "See, Daddy? We're learning!" Hyperion grinned down at his father.
Clarence was about to answer when the little red hen ran over and clucked "my wheat is ready. Who will help me cut the wheat?" She looked down at Clarence expectantly.
"Not I," said the cat as he rolled over and shook his son from him. "I'm a little busy at the moment." The little red hen clucked in anger at him and waddled off to find the dog.
"Daddy," asked Mittens softly, "why do the rats eat our food?"
Clarence explained the rats' greedy habits to his kittens while simultaneously defending his backside from the rambunctious antics of Hyperion.
"Now, it's your turn," he told his kittens when he had pinned down his feisty boy. "You can't track a rat if you can't track me. You four close your eyes and count to twenty while I go hide. Whoever finds me first gets the first lick from the cream bowl tonight." The four kittens mewed with excitement and quickly ducked their heads to start counting.
Clarence dashed off and hid beneath the henhouse. He lay calmly waiting for his kittens to find him when the little red hen noisily rushed over to him. "Who will help me grind the wheat into flour? Who? Who?" She pecked at his fur as she flapped noisily around.
"Not I," said the cat grumbling under his breath. "I'm busy."
"You lazy thing!" She squawked and she pecked him once more for good measure before she scurried off.
Clarence rolled his eyes at the hen and waited patiently. He watched from his shadowy hiding place as his kittens ran around the barnyard searching for him. He laughed each time Hyperion tripped over his own feet or JuJu or Mittens scared one of the ducks from their pond.
As Hyperion shot out of the doghouse, chased by two of the young, playful puppies Tiger chided softly "he's not very good at this, is he, Dad?"
Clarence's jumped to his feet and crashed into the henhouse above him. He hadn't even heard Tiger approach, but there he was lying calmly where Clarence had just been. The commotion from the hens above caught the attention of the other kittens and they came bounding over.
"Tiger wins," said Clarence, trying to slow his racing heart. "Well done. Now let's try you on some real rats."
Before they had all climbed out from under the henhouse the little red hen bustled up to them and planted herself firmly in front of Clarence.
"My flour is all ready. Who will help me make the flour into dough?"
"Not I," said the cat. "The kittens are going on their first hunt."
"Cluck," said the little red hen, "I'll do it myself," and she entered the henhouse with ruffled feathers.
"Daddy," Mittens asked quietly, "why does the hen keep asking you to help? There are plenty of other hens to help her. And she has her chicks. And she doesn't really like us cats. And the farmer's wife always gives her bread anyway."
Clarence smiled at his curious daughter and shook his head. "I don't know. But I do know the farmer won't like keeping us around if I don't teach you kittens how to hunt. Let's go," he said, and they raced off after the other kittens.
The farmer whistled a high pitch just as the sun was reaching the horizon. Clarence rounded up his kittens and they carried their trophies high as they made their way to the house for dinner. As they came out of the field, the little red hen was there waiting for them.
"Who will help me bake my dough into bread?" the hen demanded.
"Not I," said the cat wearily. "The farmer has called us in." He followed behind his kittens who were prancing about. As they walked up the steps to the farmhouse, each kitten dropped a small rat at the farmer's feet and mewed proudly.
The farmer reached down and scratched Clarence behind the ears. "Good work, boy. You've done a fine job today."
The sky was dark by the time Clarence and Miss Florine snuck out of the farmhouse. The kittens had finally fallen asleep and Clarence wanted a chance to relax by the pond with his wife. He'd had a busy day and he was exhausted. As Miss Florine gently licked his face and ears, Clarence relaxed and was soon drifting off into a peaceful sleep.
But the stillness of the night was broken by the sharp, angry clucking of the little red hen.
"Who will help me..." broke into Clarence's dream and he groaned. But tired as he was, the little red hen had been asking for help all day and he knew he should give help now that he was no longer busy.
"I will," said the cat. He got up to help, even though he hadn't heard what she was asking for help with this time. "What do you need?" he asked, but his voice was drowned out by the clambering noises of the other barnyard animals.
"I will! I will!" they called as they raced past Clarence.
The little red hen threw her beak proudly into the air and yelled "no, you won't! I will do it myself!" And stalked back inside the henhouse.
Clarence sleepily turned back around and laid back down next to Miss Florine. "What was that about?" Asked Miss Florine. "Do you know what she wanted?"
"Not I," said the cat.
