Sir Kaddington and the Petpetpet Search

     Originally, the delightful Kadoatie was supposed to stay at her granddaughter's house but somehow the furried fiend spent more time in her garden than anywhere else in Neopia Central. Mildred had the sneaking suspicion that it was because the Kadoatie had a boundless imagination and a flair for causing chaos. Last week, for instance, he spent copious hours experimenting to uncover which angle was the best one from which to attack her lamps. From what Mildred saw, the best way to destroy a pesky lamp was to pounce from above. Yesterday, the cantankerous Kad had been trying to discover how many scratches it takes to get through her curtains. Mildred was unable to ascertain how many but the Kadoatie had obviously tried to validate his findings by repeated experiments on all her curtains. Sir Kaddington's most recent fixation appeared to be a burning desire to get his own Petpetpet.

     On this particular sunny morning, Mildred had just settled into her rocking chair with a fresh copy of the Neopian Times. She had just lifted the newspaper when it happened. She always heard him before she saw him. He tended to meow and purr as he approached the house. He had become quite good at time keeping and always arrived when she had just sat down. Today was slightly different, rather than bound round the corner in a chaotic whirl of energy. Sir Kaddington had instead strutted proudly through the garden gate. Mildred peered over her glasses, a look of disgust crossed her face. “Kaddington, yuck” she exclaimed, “that’s not a Petpetpet, that’s… that’s someone's leftover dinner! Honestly, if you want a Petpetpet, go and find something that actually moves or makes a sound!”

     With a huffy flick of his tail, Sir Kaddington trotted off down the path and into the lane. He was clearly insulted by Mildred’s lack of appreciation for his Petpetpet. How could she not see the potential in Yellow Bone? Was there ever a more cuddly Petpetpet? What did she not like about his soon-to-be faithful companion? Well, one thing for certain, if the Wocky wanted something else, Sir Kaddington was going to find the best Petpetpet. As he went off to find a Petpetpet worthy of him, he knew he would have to use his imagination. Mildred tried to return to her paper, muttering cautiously under her breath something about “eccentric Kadoaties” and hoping the matter was finished. Perhaps she would actually get to read the comics this morning.

     As you probably have guessed, the matter however was not finished. Barely ten minutes later, Sir Kaddington returned. He was dragging behind him a bright pink plastic ball, scuffed from years of sitting in the neighbours’ garden. He bounded up to her with wide, gleaming eyes and deposited it at Mildred’s paws. He began batting it gently, clearly demonstrating how the Petpetpet could move with the slightest touch. Sir Kaddington narrowed his eyes and stared up towards Mildred. He gave the ball a small tap with his paw, and it let out a little squeaky wheeze. Mildred could have sworn that Kaddington was smirking.

     “Kaddington!” Mildred sighed. “That’s… that’s a toy, not a Petpetpet!” She watched in disbelief as he nudged the ball toward the food dish, cooing proudly. “Oh, Fyora preserves us,” she groaned, “he’s gone from bones to… bouncing balls.”

     Sir Kaddington was not discouraged. In fact he took her disapproval in his stride. Mildred wasn't sure but she got the sense that he wasn't going to give up on this. She assumed she was correct when off he went once more, tail high and whiskers twitching with determination. Mildred felt her own resilience weakening and decided that she was going to give up on the paper and decided to go to her knitting. As she settled down to knit, she wondered what in Neopia will that Kad drag in next.

     Sure enough, the Kadoatie reappeared not long after. In his mouth he had a pine cone stuck between his teeth. Mildred glared at the ancient object. “Oh no, no, no,” Mildred cried. “That’s not a Petpetpet! Wait, did you stick things to it?”

     Kaddington, in what most would have seen as creative genius and others, time wasting, appeared to have affixed some old string and stones to the pine cone. It gave an odd face-like appearance to the pine cone but wouldn't fool Mildred. "Nice try, but it's still not a Petpetpet.

     But Sir Kaddington ignored her protests, nudging the pine cone toward the sunniest spot in the garden and curling up beside it with a satisfied purr. He was certain this one would win her approval. However when Mildred had not shown much interest in the pine cone, Sir Kad swiftly abandoned it and raced off.

     Moments later, he returned with his whiskers dusted with soil. In his mouth, was a Happy Flower. Its smiling face bobbing cheerily in the breeze. Sir Kaddington placed it proudly in the centre of the garden and sat beside it.

     “Kaddington,” she groaned, “Nope, this one is not a Petpetpet either. Wait, did you dig that from my garden? ”

     Mildred had just finished explaining, in a quite stern tone, that flowers should stay in the flower beds, when she saw Sir Kaddington dart off. She walked back to the patio and slumped back in her chair. “What now? A plank of wood? A lump of moss? Perhaps the neighbour’s garden gnome?” she muttered, rubbing her temples. At least he wasn't messing up her house today. Mildred began to contemplate keeping this going for a while longer to save her extra housework.

     He had been away a bit longer this time and Mildred had begun to wonder where he had gone. The answer came as soon the thought sprang to her head. Sir Kaddington strutted back into view, lugging behind him a dirt-smudged potato almost as big as his head. He dropped it at Mildred’s feet with a proud thunk and sat beside it. His eyes were shining. “Oh, merciful Fyora,” Mildred whispered, staring at the starchy lump. “Is its name Mash? Roastie? Chips?” But Sir Kaddington wasn’t listening, he was already rolling the potato toward the water dish, purring and patting it as though he’d just introduced her to the finest Petpetpet in all of Neopia.

     Now, Mildred had to admit, she was enjoying the game. Whilst she was convinced there was no limit to Sir Kaddington’s madness, he was demonstrating a flair for creativity. Was he lonely and needed a friend? She looked around at the garden, bones, balls, pine cones, flowers, and potatoes when suddenly her eyes fell on Sir Kad again. He had just returned through the gate, dragging along the neighbour’s garden gnome.

     Sir Kaddington plonked it proudly in the flowerbed and stepped back. Mildred shook her head firmly. “No, Kaddington. Put that back!” For a split second, she thought he was going to listen but Sir Kaddington, undeterred, dashed off yet again with a flick of his tail. Mildred replaced the gnome in her neighbours garden and had just closed her gate when she heard him coming.

     When he had returned, Mildred nearly dropped her spectacles. Sir Kaddington didn't plonk anything down in front of her this time. Instead he approached slowly, balancing something on his back. As he got closer Mildred bent down for a closer look. On his back was perched a scraggly string of yarn. It was somewhat knotted and frayed with a pinkish hew that looked quite nice. Mildred was just about to ask Kaddington which of her jumpers he had destroyed to salvage this when she jumped. The object twitched. It wriggled. It actually purred. The yarn looped itself into a bow and nuzzled against Sir Kaddington’s whiskers with undeniable, living charm. Mildred blinked twice, rubbed her eyes, and squeaked, “That’s ... that’s a Yarnicle! A real Petpetpet!” Sir Kaddington sat smugly, tail curled high, as if to say, I told you so. Mildred sighed, defeated but smiling. “Well… at least this one won’t eat the furniture.”

     The End.