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Timotheus Arrives on Pserimos

Available for a limited time, an excerpt from Chapter Three where Timotheus describes (in his own words) his arrival on Pserimos and the unfriendly

advances of the island's cat gang.

 Timotheus Pserimos Puss can be purchased in both paperback and in Kindle from Amazon. 

(see link below)

Excerpt from Chapter Three - My Arrival

. . . . . . I dodged between people and the offloaded boxes heading, as fast as I could, away from the hubbub and towards the buildings surrounding the bay.  I had lost all rationality and in my blind panic I had forgotten I needed to return to the ferry.  As I ran, I spotted a turning up to the right  Surely this would take me away from all the commotion.  The turning was a broad solid path leading steeply up between whitewashed houses with blue shutters and balconies entwined with bougainvillea.  The path emerged at the top of the village, out into the countryside.  It was quiet here.  I stopped to catch my breath and try to gather my thoughts.  Hot and confused, I scanned round in search of shade.  It was all pretty barren but not far away, I spotted a clump of low bushes and thought if I could get under these then it must be cooler.  They were a bit prickly but I managed to crawl under the lower branches and as I lay cooling down, the excitement of the past few hours caught up with me, bringing with it waves of tiredness.  Time for a catnap, just long enough to regain my strength, and then I would work my way back down to the ferry and figure out how to board without being seen.


I obviously misjudged how tired I was because a brief catnap lengthened into several hours and when I awoke the sun was no longer high in the sky.  From where I lay, I could see above the roofs of the village and down to the bay.  There, cruising out in the diminishing sunlight, was The Nissos, on its way back to Kalymnos!  Drat (actually I used a far stronger word than that, a tom cat word), I had missed the boat but this was the least of my problems because not more than about five metres away, on a hummock, a group of adolescent cats had gathered.


A surly looking bunch, scruffy with tufts of matted fur sticking out, some with bits out of their ears.  They looked like trouble.  Eight in total and the largest of the group, a big ginger fellow, who I presume was the leader, shouted across, “Hey kid, where you from?  Lost your mum have you?”  This was not uttered in friendship and the others laughed at me mockingly.  When I did not reply, he shouted again, “Hey, I am talking to you kid.  What’s the cat got your tongue?”  More laughs and guffaws from the other seven and with that they dropped down and started to edge slowly in my direction.  This was not good, in fact this was extremely bad.  Obviously this gang of ruffians were out for what they considered a bit of sport, and they didn’t care whether it was a rabbit, rat or one of their own.  If they caught me, I knew I’d be done for.  Rabbit, now that gave me a thought, not more than a metre away I spotted an entrance to a rabbit’s burrow.  No time for contemplating my actions, I leapt from under the prickly bush, leaving clumps of fur on the thorns, and hurled myself in the direction of the burrow.  It all happened in a matter of seconds.  I leapt into the entrance and tumbled down into the dark depths, landing on a soft bed.  Above me I could hear angry yelling from the ruffian mob.  They were too big to enter the tunnel and safe down in the depths, I had robbed them of their late afternoon sport. 


I lay there with my heart thumping so violently, I thought it would burst out of my chest.  After about five minutes the yelling stopped and I heard the leader say, “Aw come on let’s leave him to the rabbits.  We’re wasting our time here, we’ll head over to the thicket, bound to be something interesting over there.”  All went quiet.  I calmed down.  There was just enough light coming down the burrow for me to see there were no further tunnels leading off; the burrow was a dead end and the soft bed, where I had landed, was fine fur.  In my later life, I was to learn this was a birthing burrow, dug out by a doe and lined with the soft fur from her underside; a safe place to deliver her young.


What a day! I felt exhausted and I was frightened too, of what lay before me. . . . . . . . 

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