This is yet another installment in the suddenly ongoing children’s book parodies I have been writing. Right now, Simone really loves the Mr. Putter and Tabby series. Frankly, I do, too. Mr. Putter is a doddering old man and Tabby is his orange cat. Their neighbors are Mrs. Teaberry and her good dog Zeke. That’s about all you need to know.
On Saturday nights, Mr. Putter liked to bring out the Victrola and listen to the music of his youth. Sometimes, he’d even get up and dance around a little bit. One night, Mr. Putter was puttering around the living room and found that his get up and go had gotten up and gone.
“This is boring, Tabby,” said Mr. Putter. “I’ve heard these old records a hundred times. And I’m tired of dancing by myself.”
Tabby looked at Mr. Putter. He looked like he had an idea.
“I know what we’ll do,” said Mr. Putter. “We’ll go to a dance hall. I used to love going to dance halls.”
Mr. Putter asked around and he found out that the best place for dancing was somewhere called Zeno’s.
The next Saturday, Mr. Putter got dressed up in his nattiest suit with his finest silk tie and his best dancing shoes. “I haven’t worn these in ages,” he said. They feel just like new.”
Tabby thought Mr. Putter could probably button his shirt all the way down when it was new. In any case, it was time to hit the club.
Mr. Putter was very happy as he stood in line stroking his kitty. “There are lots of young ladies here, Tabby,” he said, “and they’re all looking at us. I think we picked the right place.”
Mr. Putter had a little trouble getting in at first, but he remembered a trick from the old days and greased the palm of the heavy at the door.
At first, once they were inside, Mr. Putter could barely stand it. The music was so loud. Then he turned his hearing aid down. “Much better, Tabby,” he said.
Tabby looked skeptical.
Next, it was time to get his groove on. Mr. Putter made his way out to the dance floor and started shakin’ it at some good looking ladies. He was really feeling it.
“You’re just adorable,” one said.
“I love your kitty,” another said.
“It’s so soft and squishy,” said another.
Mr. Putter knew how to choose his moment. “I’m a very old man,” he said. “If you like soft and squishy, I can give you a lot of options.” He winked and the pretty lady smiled before going off to talk to a friend. “She’ll be back,” Mr. Putter assured Tabby.
Mr. Putter danced for a long time, but eventually, he got tired of shouting at the ladies. “My throat hurts,” he said. “And you can’t get a decent drink here to save your life. What is a Red Bull and vodka? It tastes terrible.”
Tabby twitched her ears.
“Let’s go home,” Mr. Putter said.
Once they were home, Mr. Putter poured himself a scotch and soda and sat down in his favorite chair.
“It was fun to go out for a night,” he said. “But really, there’s nothing I like better than listening to my favorite old records and stroking my favorite old kitty.”