How to turn a pet into a comedy hero

Atticus Grammaticus Cattypuss Claw, the world’s greatest (reformed) cat burglar is the subject of three comedy adventures that take him from Monte Carlo to Littleton-on-Sea, from the Tower of London to tea with the Queen, and from a creepy family crypt to the pyramids of Egypt. In the course of his adventures Atticus battles villainous magpies; he outwits his cat nemesis, Ginger Biscuit, and its evil owner, and he discovers that he has an intriguing past.  He also finds a home with the Cheddar family, although he and the hapless Inspector Cheddar are rarely on the best of terms.

Atticus is based on our family moggy, Henry. At first glance, Henry is not the most obvious writer’s muse. He’s a tubby tabby who spends a large part of his time asleep. The rest of it he spends grooming, eating, gazing wistfully at our dinner plates, sitting on the back doorstep, and checking out the warmest spot for his next nap. If Henry were the cat equivalent of Thomas Jefferson, his Declaration of Cat Independence would be based on the inalienable rights of ‘sleep, prawns, and the pursuit of idleness.’

Yet somewhere in Henry, Atticus lurks. It’s always important when you write to believe in your characters and I remain firmly convinced that Henry is, or at least was once, a cat-tion hero. I utterly refuse to accept that he is inherently less intelligent than a human being and unlikely to do anything more heroic in the course of his life than loll about on the settee, purring.

For me Henry spells mystery. He’s an enigma: a subject of intense speculation. Where does he go on those few occasions he actually makes it past the back doorstep and out into the garden and beyond? Who does he meet? What does he do? Why does his fur prickle when he hears a magpie chatter, or his claws flex at the sight of a ginger cat? What makes him turn on the charm one day and give you the brush off the next?

Best of all, where did he come from? Like Atticus, Henry has a mysterious past. I found him several years ago at Battersea Dogs and Cats Home.  I never had any doubt he was the cat for us: he was big and cuddly and purred like a tractor. And he turned out to be brilliant with the kids. The curious thing about him was that no one at the cats’ home seemed to know where he’d come from. He wasn’t hurt or hungry or scared. He wasn’t an abandoned kitten. His owner wasn’t an old lady who’d died.  He didn’t seem to have an owner. No one came forward to claim him. He just sort of turned up there one day ready to fix me with his big green eyes as if to say, ‘you’ll do.’

I reckon you’re allowed one coincidence per story. For Atticus it’s adopting the Cheddars. For Henry, it was adopting a would-be writer. From when, why, and where it’s only a short leap of the imagination to ‘what if?’  I started to fill in the gaps in Henry’s life. Atticus Grammaticus Cattypuss Claw was born.

In Atticus you will recognize many of Henry’s traits: he spends a very large part of the day doing absolutely nothing, has a weakness for sardines and thoroughly dislikes magpies. In other respects too, he has a natural knack for comedy. Like Henry, he very quickly establishes an ongoing rivalry with the other alpha male of the house, while the rest of the family worship him unquestioningly and attend to his every whim. In that regard my husband and Inspector Cheddar have a lot in common.

Unlike Henry, Atticus can talk to other animals and understand exactly what is being said to him by humans.  (Actually Henry probably can too, but keeps it to himself in case we ask him to do something.)  Atticus is conflicted by his instinct to be independent and his growing love for the Cheddar family. (Henry has no such dilemma.) Atticus is not just smart: he’s brave and loyal too.  (Henry is loyal, but not really to us, more to the fridge.)

All in all, Atticus may be a reluctant hero, but his heart is definitely in the right place. Ultimately he’s a really fun character to write because he’s like Henry only more so.

And if I ever get stuck on a plot point, or need more background, or can’t think what Atticus would do to get himself out of a tricky situation, I know just the cat to ask! He’s usually right beside me, curled up on the settee, purring like a tractor.

Read our review of Atticus Claw Breaks the Law