But the cook begged to differ. And so did Lennie, who feared it was only a matter of time before Satie used his claws on him, too; or worse still, on Creamy, whose fondness for fish was just as great as Satie's own. So Lennie always kept a wary eye on him – just in case.

And right now, stepping back a bit as Satie sidled up to him, he frowned and asked a little anxiously: ‘What are you up to?’

‘Nothing,’ said Satie, giving Lennie a bright smile. ‘Nothing at all,’ he repeated, arching his back and prancing round, yellow slippers flickering. Then all of a sudden, he stopped in front of Lennie and arranging his feet neatly together, he pointed to them and asked:

‘So what do you think, Lennie? Do you like my new shoes? The captain got them for me in Damascus. I just love them. Wear them all the time - even in bed!’

‘Oh, really?’ said Lennie, and then looked quickly away, for pointy yellow shoes were not at all to his taste. In fact he thought them quite ghastly, but as he did not like to hurt anyone's feelings - not even Satie's – he preferred to say nothing more.

‘But don't you think they are just the best you ever saw?’ Satie persisted.

Lennie raised his brows. ‘Cats are odd,’ he thought. ‘You can never tell with cats, so might just as well humour them.’ So he smiled at Satie, mumbled ‘very nice, I am sure,’ and then turned quickly to Creamy.

‘I say, Creamy, have you seen Satie's new shoes?’

Creamy, quite over the shock now, trotted over and bent to examine Satie's shoes. Lennie stood back and held his breath. He knew he could safely leave it to Creamy to comment.

Unlike Lennie, Creamy never thought twice about speaking his mind, and he always had plenty to say. And when it came to fashion, Creamy had more to say than most.

But just then, eyes bulging, Creamy contemplated Satie's shoes in complete silence.

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