🐈‍⬛Let's meet Katy the DANCING & SINGING Cat!┃A Kids Read Aloud Story @DixysStorytimeWorld

Hi! Welcome to Dixie's Storytime World. Thank you for visiting my channel. I'm proud to present the first in a series of Kitty in the City. Katie on Broadway. Written by Ella English. If you'd like to buy a copy of this book, the link is available in the description at the bottom Chapter One. Jerry always told me not to sing, but I would never stop. Not ever, because I was going to be a star. I was standing in my yard, up on Jerry's favorite branch. I imagined I was on a stage. A tuxedo cat in a pink spangly dress. The spotlight followed me across the stage. The audience gasped as I start to sing. A beautiful song came out of my open mouth. I was thrilled to see the people in the front row were breaking out into smiles. They were leaning forward, trying to hear more of my voice, when whack! I was back in my backyard, up on Jerry's branch. Where did that acorn come from? I yelled, rubbing my head. Jerry the squirrel poked his head out of the hollowed out trunk. Stop that screeching, he cried, shooting acorns at me. It's singing, I said. I dug my claws into the branch. I didn't want to fall. You know what, Katie? Jerry yelled, you're a cat. Cats can't sing. A couple of birds on the branches started to tweet. Stop that catawally, twitted a bluebird. What a racket, added an orange bird. Bonk, thud. Jerry giggled. The birds dove down and flapped around me as I lost my balance and tumbled to the ground. You can't sing, cried the bluebird. You need to leave. Give us a bit of peace, chirped the orange bird. Singing is for the birds, Jerry looked down at me. Not for cute little cats like you, Katie. But I love to sing, so I wasn't going to let them stop me. Take that, I cried, throwing some acorns up at Jerry. The birds flapped away. What a diva, said the orange bird. What kind of cat are you, said the bluebird flying up close to my face. You'd rather sing your awful songs than try to catch a bird. It's just not natural. I felt like crying, but I puffed out my chest instead. One day I'll be a superstar, you'll see, Jerry laughed. Superstar? You've never even been out of this garden, and you never will, because you're just a fraidy cat. Jerry started to chant, Katie cat is a fraidy cat. The orange bird somersaulted through the air, landing on my nose and making my whiskers tremble. Fraidy catty. Hey, I shouted, I ain't no fraidy cat, and soon as I had battered the orange bird away from my face, the bluebird started shrieking in my ear. You're a yellow-bellied coward, cat. That's what you are. As I got up and brushed some bits of twig out of my fur, I heard my owner, Lillian, calling me. I went back inside. Oh dear, Lillian picked me up. She stared at me. What happened? Have you been in a fight? Was it with that squirrel? He's such a bully. You don't want to mess with him. One day he's going to bite you. I like to practice my singing outside, I said. Stay inside, Katie cat, she said. She kissed my head. It's a dangerous world out there. Out in the city, there are monster cats and monster squirrels that will eat you for breakfast. So better stay inside, Katie cat. Take a break from singing. It's giving me a headache. I curled up in my basket and put my head on my fuzzy pink pillow. I tried to sleep, but I couldn't. I wanted to do what Lillian asked and stay inside, but all I could think about was being a star. I really wanted to sing on stage. Chapter Two I wanted to do what Lillian told me and stay away from Jerry and the birds and their nasty comments, but it was hard. Sometimes I would get this urge to perform. It made my fur feel prickly, and I would scratch to make the itch go away. But sometimes the itch wouldn't quit until I'd scrambled up the tree and burst into song. So you see, there wasn't a thing I could do about it. All through the summer I sang, even when Jerry hollered at me to stop. One day, my fur was standing up on end and itching so much, I couldn't stand it. So I climbed up on Jerry's branch and sang wonderfully. But Jerry started throwing acorns again. This time I held a metal trash can lid. Jerry's acorns pinged off the lid. Jerry shrieked, no fair, you're wearing armor. Suddenly, I had had enough. Take that, Jerry, take that once and for all, I roared. Flinging the trash can lid at Jerry, I jumped, whoosh. Closing my eyes, I flew. I was feeling scared and excited, all knotted together in my tummy, but there was no turning back now. I sailed in a high arc. I landed on the pretzel cart. The pretzel man screamed and waved his big red hands at me. Pretzels flew everywhere. Jerry was still trying to hit me with acorns. I leaped from the cart to the ground and ran down the street. Motorcycles zoomed past, cars and trucks thundered by, making the ground tremble. I was terrified I was going to be flattened. I sniffed the air. It smelled of sugary nuts roasting. It smelled of pizza pies sizzling in ovens. I was dodging my way through the traffic when a yellow taxi blared its horn. I jumped. The taxi had run over my tail. Watch where you're going, a man yelled from inside the cab. I scrambled up onto the sidewalk and started to run. I was running fast, not looking where I was going. I ran into a patch of fishy-smelling fur. Hey, fella, where are you going in such a hurry? You lost? I stepped back and looked straight into the eyes of a raggedy ginger cat with a tear in his ear. I'm certainly not lost, I squeaked. I tried not to cry. I was scared that I was lost in the big city. I'm Weasel, he said. Hi, I'm Katie Cat. Pleased to meet you. He was nibbling at a fish skeleton. Want some, he said. No thanks, I said. I eat only the best cat food. Weasel laughed. I held up my injured tail. The taxi driver just ran over my tail. My bottom lip started to wobble. Okay, yes, I'm lost. Sorry to hear that. Weasel nudged me with his nose. I shrugged. Still, I guess I'm lucky I haven't been attacked by the monster squirrels and cats that roam this city. Who told you that? Weasel shook his head. Never mind. You sure you should be out here on your own? I don't know. It's grimy out here and so loud. I need to get home, I babbled. Do you know where Skillet Street is? I live in the house with the black railings. I don't know where that is, but look, maybe we should stick together. Things can get pretty rough out here. I can look out for you. Sure, I said, smiling at my new pal. I'd like that. A dog appeared. He grabbed the fish skeleton. Not so fast, buddy, Weasel yelled. He started to give chase. I followed behind. We ran and ran. We ran down a big street with lots of bright flashing lights, but at some point we lost the dog. We were side by side in a back alley. It was all covered in garbage. I was trying to get my breath back. I wanted to ask, Weasel turned to me, why did you run away from home anyway? Well, there's this squirrel, see, called Jerry. He makes my life miserable. You see, I'm a singer. A singer? Weasel chuckled. Yes, and Jerry says I can't sing. I gave him a few bars from one of my favorite musicals. Well, that's crazy, said Weasel. You can sing. Jerry doesn't know what he's talking about. You really think so? I felt all warm and gooey inside. Here was a friend who believed I could sing. Yes, I do, but I'm kind of starving right now. Do you want to try to rustle up some food? Sure, why not? My stomach was starting to growl. I scampered after Weasel, weaving in and out of people's feet as the crowds got thicker. Now it was just one human pressed up against another in a hurry to get somewhere. On top of that, there were more car horns, bright lights, flashing billboards, and cars that were bumper to bumper. I would have lost my mind without Weasel. I followed him into the back door of a building. People were carrying boxes full of wine and crates of cheese. They didn't notice as we rushed up some stairs. We scampered along a corridor until we came to a kitchen full of people. They were running about and stirring big bubbling pots of soup. Weasel led me through another door back outside. He jumped into a dumpster of rotted food. I didn't want to jump in, but I held my nose and jumped. It was smelly. There were bits of meat, lettuce, and fish heads under our feet. I didn't really like being in the dumpster, but I was hungry, so I began nibbling on a lobster claw. Weasel and I lay back when we had finished our meal. As I looked at Weasel, I wondered what I was doing here. I had run away from home to get a taste of the big wide world, but now my fur stank of rotten veggies and I was sleeping on garbage. How would you like being in the big city? Weasel asked. I feel scared and alone, I whispered. Don't be silly, you've got me, he said, closing his eyes. I hummed a few bars of a song to myself and went to sleep. I shivered a little in the night air. I miss Lillian. I miss my basket and my favorite pink fuzzy pillow. I miss my gourmet cat food and my cat water fountain. I even miss Jerry and his grinning little face. Chapter Four I woke up face down in a pile of smelly cabbage leaves. I could hear a familiar tune. It was from a musical called The Green Flamingo. I knew because Lillian has the soundtrack. It's about a flamingo who is green and doesn't fit in with the other pink flamingos. I started to sing along. The grass is proud to be green. The emerald is proud to be green. The greenest shoots sprout in the spring. Yet to be a green flamingo is an awful thing. Why can't I be pink? Weasel started to clap. Where was the music coming from? I leaped from the dumpster and scurried into the building. Up and down the stairs we ran. The music grew louder. We burst through a door. What an amazing sight! There were rows upon rows of people. They were staring up at the stage. On the stage was a large green flamingo. He twirled around as he sang a sad song. I need to get closer, I whispered to Weasel. I know what you mean. That bird looks like it could be a tasty snack. I don't want to eat the flamingo. I just want to get a good look. We made our way to the stage. It was dark as we walked down between the seats. I could see the bright lights at the stage. This was what I had always dreamed of, the stage. My stomach started to do flip-flops. I really wanted to go on stage, but I was scared. A group of pink flamingos were dancing around the green flamingo. They looked like they did not like him very much. The pink flamingo seemed like they wanted to attack the green flamingo. I knew that the green flamingo needed help. I knew I could help, so I jumped up on the stage. The audience started to gasp. The pink flamingos were frightened. They started running into the corners. I ran towards the green flamingo. He was the biggest bird I ever saw. The music soared. I got up on my hind legs. I lifted one leg high and did a twirl. The audience clapped. The green flamingo was still singing. The words rose in my throat. I jumped up onto the bird's shoulder and clung to his feathers so I wouldn't fall off. In my most beautiful voice, I sang, Maybe there's a potion. Maybe there's a lotion. Maybe there's a medicine to take away my green. Of all the flamingos in all of the world, why did this happen to me? Why can't I be pink? I heard loud clapping, and the audience stood up and kept on clapping. I couldn't see anything anymore. All I saw were flashing lights, one bright flash after another. Chapter 5 I bolted right off stage. Weasel leapt across the stage and ran up beside me. Hey, what happened? I have to get out of here. Come on, Weasel said, beckoning me to a side door. I hurtled and crashed my way down some dark back stairs. There were props piled up all around us. A pirate ship, a haunted house, and a creepy clown head. Watch out, Weasel said, as the clown head teetered and crashed down towards me. The next thing I knew, I woke up outside the theatre. I was lying on the sidewalk near the entrance of the theatre. The sky was dark. My head was propped up on a rolled up towel. What happened? I asked Weasel. I think maybe you were overwhelmed by the flashing lights. We were running down some stairs and you got hit by a flying clown head. You've been out for a while. My head does feel a bit sore, I said, blinking up at the bright street lights. They look like showers of stars. I feel weird. I'm sure you do. He stroked my forehead. People started streaming out of the theatre and crowding around me. It made me feel uncomfortable. That poor little cat, said a girl with pink street hair. She doesn't look well. I love your voice, squealed a boy with a gap-toothed smile, leaning down and scratching me behind the ear. How about you come to my birthday party and sing for me? Stand back, give us some air, Weasel said, nudging the boy and moving him away from me. Poor little kitty, an old lady said, stepping forward. She had sparkly bright blue eyes set in a wrinkled face. Where do you live? I think I live on, I replied, but my mind had gone blank. She lives on Skinner Street, Weasel replied to the old lady, but I don't know how I'm going to get home. The lady twisted her pearl necklace between her fingers. Peering down, she said, I'd love to give her a ride. My car is just over there. I stared up at the sea of cell phones. People's mouths were opening and closing. They looked like goldfish in a bowl. My head was pounding. In between all the faces, I could just make out a street sign saying, Broadway. I was so happy and so tired. Thanks, that would be great, Weasel told the lady. Let's try and get her to the car. An elderly gentleman came up beside her. What's all the commotion about, Millicent? He asked. Oh, Arthur, let's get this poor little cat into the car and take her home. She looks exhausted. She scooped me up and cuddled me up against her powdery cheek. I started to purr. I was so proud that I'd faced my fear of performing on stage, but now I wanted nothing more than to curl up in the car away from the crowd of yelling people. A big shiny black car drew up. Arthur opened the door and Millicent carried me in. Can Weasel come too? I said. I guess so, Millicent replied. As I rested my head on Millicent's lap, I relived the night's events. Couldn't wait to tell Lillian all about it. Arthur leaned over and scratched me behind the ears. Wow, he said. What a performance. You'll be a star for sure. Weasel was purring away and rubbing himself against Millicent's ankle. She tickled his neck. When we got back to my house, I said goodbye to Weasel, promising to get in touch soon. Millicent said, Oh, don't worry about him. Since you're such good friends, maybe we can take him to a pet salon to get a shampoo. That's okay, lady, Weasel said looking alarmed. Well, at least let us take you to our house for a nice meal, she said, patting Weasel's head. Weasel purred. Now that's more like it. Arthur climbed out and opened the door for us. Then Millicent carried me to the front door and knocked. Lillian flung open the door. Thanks so much for bringing Katie back. My pleasure. She's had quite an adventure. Millicent handed me over. I was so pleased to see Lillian. I gave a loud meow and Lillian pressed her face into my fur. I told her everything that had happened. Her eyes grew wide. Maybe she couldn't quite believe it. I couldn't quite believe it myself. Later, I settled into my basket, laid my head on my fuzzy pink pillow and fell into a deep sleep. The next morning when I woke up, Lillian showed me a newspaper. There was a picture of me in it. I was sitting on the shoulder of the green flamingo, singing my heart out. I'm so proud of you, sweetie, Lillian said. Yeah, me too, I replied purring. Singing in front of that audience was the greatest thing ever. It's like I was born to be on Broadway. That evening, I ran outside and climbed up the tree. I settled myself on Jerry's branch. I opened the paper and stared again at the image of myself. The birds fluttered around me. They pecked at the paper, trying to tear holes in it. You can pick all you like, I said. I'm a star and you know it. Jerry glared at me from inside his hollowed out tree. See over there, I said, pointing at some twinkling lights. Over there's Broadway. That's where I made my debut last night. Jerry coughed and mumbled something from inside his hole. What did you say, Jerry? Jerry poked his head out. I said, maybe you can sing. You better believe it. You ain't seen the last of this singing cat. The end. I hope you enjoyed this story, kids. Now put the video on pause and have a look at some of these Broadway facts. And here you've got some facts about New York. Thanks, everybody, for listening and learning. Kids, always remember to be good, polite, and kind. And I'll see you soon in another adventure. Bye for now.