The Dalai Lama's Cat (The Dalai Lama's Cat 1)

It was an informal corner store with wooden chests on which brass bowls of spices were carefully laid out. Several matronly women, grinding powder on their laps, let out cries of shock as I ran past their ankles. Followed by bellows of outrage as the dogs, high on bloodlust, bounded after me.

I heard a crash of metal on concrete as bowls tumbled. Clouds of spices exploded into the air. Racing to the back of the store I discovered no shelf to jump up to. Only a firmly closed door. But I saw a gap between two chests, narrow enough for me to claw through. On the other side was not a wall, merely a plastic sheet. Torn. And beyond the sheet, a deserted gutter.

Shoving their great heads into the gap between the chests, the dogs launched into a frenzy of yapping. Terrified, I quickly scanned the gutter. It was a dead end. The only way out was back to the road.

From inside the spice store came plaintive yelping as the angry women apprehended the two thugs. My usually lustrous white coat smeared with spices of every color, I scampered along the gutter to the road and along it again as fast as my frail legs would take me.

But the road inclined—subtle and punishing. Even though I was straining every sinew of my being, my efforts were to little avail. Struggling to get as far away as I could, I searched around for somewhere, anywhere, that offered protection.

There were only shop windows. Concrete walls. Impenetrable steel gates.

Behind me the commotion of barking continued, with angry yelling, too. I turned to see the women shoving the dogs out of their shop, slapping their flanks as they did. The two slavering beasts stood on the pavement outside, wild eyed and tongues lolling. I continued my exertions, hoping the steady stream of pedestrians and cars would conceal my whereabouts.

But there was to be no escape.

Within moments the two beasts had caught my scent and resumed the chase. Their ferocious growling filled me with pure fear.

I had made up some ground, but it wasn’t a lot. It would take hardly any time at all for the two of them to catch up. Reaching a property with very high, white walls and a black, metal, pedestrian gate, I suddenly saw, to one side of the gate, a wooden trellis. Never before would I have even considered what I was about to do, but what choice did I have? With only seconds before the dogs were upon me, I leapt onto the trellis and began climbing as fast as my fluffy, grey legs would let me. With great lurches I dragged myself up, paw by paw, taking care to curl my tail away from the ground.

I was nearing the top when the beasts closed in. Amid a frenzy of barking they hurled themselves against the trellis. There was a crash of wood as the lattice cracked. The top half swung back wildly. Had I still been on it, I would have been dangled down to the dogs’ gaping maws. But instead I was already standing on the sturdy brick wall.

I looked down at their furious, bared teeth. Trembled at the hideous, blood-curdling snarls. It seemed to me that I was looking directly into the faces of beings from the hell realms.

The manic frenzy of noise continued until the dogs were distracted by another canine further down the street, licking something off the pavement. Racing toward it, they were arrested on the way by a tall man in a tweed jacket who seized them both by their collars and was soon attaching leads. As he was bending over them, a passerby remarked, “Beautiful Labradors!”

“Golden Retrievers,” replied the man. “Young and high spirited. But,” he patted them affectionately, “lovely animals.”

Lovely animals? Had the whole world gone completely mad?!