Free Tigger by Susanne Haywood Page B

recently provided shade for our teddy bear’s picnic. They took it in turns to jump from the oak tree branch on to the plum tree, pick a plum, jump back onto the oak tree and disappear up its trunk, cradling the stolen plum. One after the other they helped themselves to our fruit, more and more and more of them racing up and down the oak tree, greed written all over their cheeky faces. I was appalled – shameless burglary was taking place in front of my very eyes, in broad daylight. The plums were barely ripe! Worse still, I knew at that moment in my heart of hearts that plums were in fact my favourite food, much better even than cake or chocolate. I could almost smell the juicy fruit as it disappeared up the tree at an alarming rate. I could also smell the tree runners.
    Fighting down the urge to run down to the tree and chase the thieves off, I swiftly plotted a battle plan instead. Had I not been waiting for such an opportunity for ages? Had I not realized long ago that greed was a tree runner’s only weakness? My hour had surely come, but I had to be clever now. They were nimble, but I was smart. And so I lay low on the deck for some time without moving a whisker. The humans were out, there was nothing to disturb the tree runners in their thieving progress. I watched every move they made. As the little tree was gradually depleted of plums, it became harder for the tree runners to pick the remaining ones: only low-hanging fruit growing at the very end of the thin branches was left now, and the creatures’ weight was bending the branches right down towards the ground. I had my eye on one particular plum, which grew right at the end of the lowest branch – the hardest one to get, surely. Soon it was indeed the only one left. I crawled down the steps of the deck in the shade of the hand rail. Inch by inch I crept up to the little tree, keeping my body close to the ground and using bushes and clumps of grass for cover. Not for one second did I take my eyes off the tree runners. I listened out for any sign of alarm amongst them, but they were too intent on their harvest to notice me. Besides, I am a masterful hunter. I was quite close now and settled down in the high grass, hind legs gathered under me, until the right moment came. I did not have to wait long. A tree runner had discovered my plum and was making its way towards it. The long, thin branch of the little tree began to bend down as the creature crept further and further out from the trunk. I could tell it was aware of the risk it was taking: the branch could well snap or bend all the way down to the ground, and it was a long way to the nearest big tree trunk. But it continued nevertheless, unable to resist that last plum.
    It all happened in a flash: the branch dipped down low, the tree runner lost its balance and flipped over, holding on to the branch from below now, eyes on the plum, claw outstretched to pick it. Its back and tail were only inches from the grass. A quick wiggle of my bottom, and I pounced. In the split second as I flew through the air towards the creature, I saw its head turn and its eyes widen in surprise. Then my teeth closed around its neck and I heard the satisfying crunch of breaking bones. The creature was mine!
    Holding the limp, warm body in my mouth, I marched to the very centre of the lawn, where I could be clearly observed by all its mates, laid the creature down on the grass in front of me and took a large bite out of its side. It was juicy and delicious; no plum could taste better. All around me, I heard tree runners screeching in alarm; no more giggling now – I had the last laugh. I licked the blood off my lips and continued my feast. From time to time I stopped to look around, but the screeches were fading as the scoundrels were scampering off to safety, letting the neighbourhood know that this garden was to be avoided in future. I was able to crunch away undisturbed.
    I was halfway through my feast when Mum