Space Lynxes Clear The Junk

Space Lynxes Clear The Junk

It was a crystal-clear night on the Fallowfield Loop.

Bullpuss and Mungojerrie were enjoying the cool night air and the twinkling starlight.

From their hiding place just below the top of the embankment, thus avoiding cat silhouettes against the velvet sky, they could hear distant traffic, the occasional owl hoot and the stumbling, grumbling revellers whose pals had left them behind.

Suddenly two large paws appeared behind them, one placed on each cat shoulder and a whispered greeting of friendship startled them. It was a tall furry Space Lynx.

“Macaw!” said Lieutenant Moppet, “how are you Ginger Nuts faring? Apologies for our absence. We have been studying your planet and are worried about the accumulation of rubbish in too many areas of the world.”

“Brrrrrp!” replied Bullpuss, “we have heard our people speaking of problems like that, and how quickly things get out-of-hand.”

“When we first met your cat gang a few years ago,” continued Moppet, “there were rodent infestations in your famous city of New York during your virus epidemic.”

“Merwow!” exclaimed Mungo, “the rodents multiplied into huge numbers. The cats couldn’t keep up with controls, the terries worked non-stop, and the urban raccoons started taking over abandoned apartments and houses.”

“The next world-wide issue,” said Moppet, “was the refuse workers strike in Paris when bin liners and bags were piled high outside the tourist hot spots along the River Seine and around Notre Dame cathedral.”

“Brrrrp, can anything be done to help?” asked Bullpuss.

Moppet smiled and sat down with the cats. “Our people on the space craft have been studying and evaluating to see what could be beneficial. Another area of great concern is the war in the Ukraine where too many innocent pets have been hurt or worse and abandoned. Anything we can devise, although primarily aimed at feline species, will also benefit all pets and humans of a caring and friendly disposition.

“We notice that excellent drones have been constructed albeit to serve military purposes. They are large, heavy duty and carry computer connections to allow remote operation. Plus cameras to locate and film areas of interest.”

If cats had eyebrows, those of Bullpuss and Mungojerrie would be sky high in astonishment. They were speechless!”

Moppet continued, “in the war zones, drones are often damaged and discarded. We have devised a system to assess them remotely to see which are repairable. Then with our version of the InterRossiter we beam them up into our repair workshop for full assessment. We have highly trained and well rewarded teams of Space Chipmunks whose dextrous paws can dismantle and rebuild the drones into serviceable vehicles.

“Our ethos and philosophy forbid our involvement with other planet’s wars, but we figured that our refurbished drones could perhaps be used to pick up large secure bags of rubbish and transport them to a planet processing centre.

“The earlier rubbish situations that I have mentioned allowed us to refine our ideas and with the worrying news from your fine City of Birmingham we believe we should put them into practise, but we require the co-operation of native felines like yourselves.

“As you know, we cannot broadly reveal our presence in your solar system. This important rule applies to all star travellers. But with fellow felines we can make contact knowing that secrecy is one of your many virtues. You have your ways of communicating with your humans, but even if you managed to describe us, your primate companions would not believe you!”

“Brrrrrrp, how can we help?” exclaimed Bullpuss and Mungojerrie together.

Moppet replied, “we know how you managed to control a small drone with cat friendly paw controls, that was used to deliver a newly born hedgehog. Unless we have misinterpreted the inventive imagination of your Very Old Master! We hope that you two would test our latest heavy duty equipment to iron out the last few wrinkles before we attempt to deploy in Birmingham.”

“Macowsers!” gasped Mungojerrie, “do you have feline contacts in Birmingham? We cannot travel to distant parts and even get anxious when our people take us away in their camper van and cat trailer!”

“We thought that would be a restriction,” replied Moppet, “so our plan does not necessitate you Pookies travelling away. We have made contact with a new cat team in Birmingham, who miaow in a different dialect from yourselves. They lack your experience but are very keen to help, hence if you agree to check the equipment we would have more confidence.”

“Brrrp, where shall we hold tests without being seen?” enquired the Bullpuss.

Moppet smiled, “we are in the best spot already. The ship above us can detect human life, or similar, along this loop. It usually only appears from an easterly or westerly direction. Our sensors will beam up us Space-Lynxes, any Space-Chipmunk assistants and all the equipment, leaving just you two where you were before, observing rodent manoeuvres in the restful tranquillity of the night.”

“Macau, sounds good,” grinned Mungo, “when shall we start?”

Shortly a quiet humming was heard, and two small chipmunk fellows appeared next to the cats and offered their paws in greeting. A couple of background clicks later a substantial drone appeared on the path below the group. The Space-Chipmunks passed a control mechanism to Mungo and Moppet explained its buttons. Bullpuss took charge of the screen which showed what the drone was filming.

“We have devised a method of communication with the Chipmunks,” explained Moppet, “they have never mastered our language and are quite new to your planet earth.”

Under supervision, Mungo and Bullpuss started to run the drone. They sent it slowly up and down the track. This continued until both were confident with driving the device.

A quite amusing episode occurred when a loop badger emerged from its sett and wondered what the “intruder” might be. Being short sighted, or so Earth zoologists reckoned, it sat and stared for a while, before continuing its nocturnal foraging. Obviously not a security risk to merit beaming up all the equipment.

Lieutenant Moppet was very pleased with the test runs since everything worked as expected.

“We have noticed some useful pink sacks of rubbish, assembled by the helpful, community oriented human persons who care for your environment. They are located by one of the road bridges that run over the Loop. We have spotted an almost empty skip or dumpster on a nearby road, so the ultimate proof would be to move the pink bags of detritus and deposit them into the skip.”

Mungo and Bullpuss swapped roles several times to ensure that both became proficient. Mungo it was later suggested, allowed his sense of mischief to get the better of him. The second time he was moving a large pink bag, which was quite light compared to the others, he gently deposited it on top of the tummy of the inebriated fellow who was asleep reclining in the verge vegetation to the side of the track.

Shortly, all the pink sacks were carefully placed in the skip.

The Space-Lynx was delighted and was confident that whilst maintaining secrecy, their team could be deployed in Birmingham.

Paw grips were exchanged all round, gratitude was expressed, and the Loop went quiet again.

“Brrrp, well,” said Bullpuss, “our Ginger Nuts back home will hardly believe our latest adventure Mungojerrie!”

“Mirrawacau,” replied Mungo, “I just hope the people who arranged the skip don’t mind a stack of pink sacks appearing overnight!”

Author’s note: The debacle with rubbish in Birmingham has been going on for so long that I have had time to write and type a children's cat story about it all.