Trixie the Witch's Cat CBeebies Bedtime Stories

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CBeebies Bedtime Story.

Two spoons of sugar...

Oh, hello! I'm Romola.

I'm busy mixing ingredients for a special spell.

I want to turn my ordinary black hat

into a zingy, springy, shiny, magical hat.

I'm not very good at magic.

But I'm sure, if I had a colourful witch's hat,

that I'd be brilliant at casting spells!

Then I could be a witch's assistant and fly on a broomstick!

Trixie, in tonight's bedtime story, is allowed to fly on a broomstick.

That's because she's a witch's cat.

Can you imagine flying on a broomstick?

I'd be so happy if I could fly high in the sky!

But sometimes even that doesn't make Trixie happy.

Shall we find out why?

The story is by Nick Butterworth

and is called Trixie The Witch's Cat.

Trixie the witch's cat was a happy cat.

Most of the time.

There was only one thing that could make Trixie really unhappy.

And, luckily, it was something Trixie didn't think about.

Most of the time.

But then sometimes Trixie just couldn't help it.

Trixie the happy cat

became Trixie the very unhappy indeed cat.

She would go into a bad mood,

as if a dark thunder cloud had settled over her head.

She threw things and kicked things

and shouted all sorts of things.

"I hate this horrible, ugly paw!" Trixie would shout.

And if anyone ever dared to ask why,

Trixie would only say, "Because it's ugly!

"And it's horrible!"

Trixie's "horrible, ugly paw" was really a very nice paw.

It was the right size and shape and the claws worked properly.

And it was...white,

and that was the problem.

Trixie knew for certain that witches' cats did not have white paws,

because....

Well, they just didn't!

At last, after one really bad mood,

thunder cloud throwing things and kicking things

and shouting things kind of a day,

Trixie decided that something had to be done about that paw.

She had a plan.

"I'm going to completely stop washing this paw," she said.

Trixie thought that if she left it long enough

it would go nice and black, like her other paws.

"I'm not going to wash it for 100 years!" she said.

At first, Trixie was pleased with her plan.

She stopped washing her paw and it did get dirtier and dirtier,

but it didn't go black.

And after only three weeks of her 100 years,

Trixie's paw began to smell really badly.

Suddenly, Trixie had another idea.

A brilliant idea, she thought.

"Of course, I'm a witch's cat, I'll use magic to turn my paw black."

First, Trixie borrowed the witch's wand and her book of spells.

Then she got busy with a very important piece of magic.

One pinch of black pepper,

black hair from a cat's foot,

two blackbird feathers,

three buckets of soot,

13 x two, bubble and boil in a black witchy brew.

Suddenly...

BOOM!

Trixie was amazed to find that she had not been hurt.

She could easily comb her hair

over a little bald patch on the top of her head

where she had lost some of her fur.

But, as she looked into the mirror, Trixie was even more amazed.

She was delighted to see that her white paw was black.

"Hooray!" At last, Trixie was a proper black witch's cat,

just like all the others.

But...oh, dear.

Now it was impossible to tell which one of the witches' cats was Trixie

and which one wasn't.

No one could say which witch's cat was which.

Without her white paw, even Trixie wondered which one she was.

It was then that Trixie began to miss her old, white paw.

Her nice white paw.

Her lovely white paw.

She really did,

and now it was gone.

Forever.

Trixie started to cry.

As Trixie wiped away a tear with her new, black paw

something very strange happened.

The black began to fade.

First to dark grey,

then to light grey,

then lighter and lighter

until Trixie's paw was...

snowy white!

What was going on?

Was it just that Trixie's magic was not very strong?

Or could it be that there was some stronger magic in Trixie's tears?

Trixie had no idea.

She only knew that her white paw,

which was just the right size and shape.

Her paw with its properly working claws,

her perfectly beautiful fluffy white paw,

was back where it belonged.

From that day, Trixie was happy to be just the way she was.

And that story was called Trixie The Witch's Cat.

Maybe I should be happy with my black hat.

After all, that's the colour that most witches wear.

And I probably just need to practise my spells a little more,

then they might work.

And while I practise, it's time for you to go to bed.

I'll see you soon for another story.

Night, night.

Right...a whizz, and a whee

and a whizzity-whee!

Abracadabra!

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