10. Ginger

 

 

When I lived in Blairton, Ginger was the enormous red tabby cat that lived next door. Ginger was a truly astonishing sight. He was not only the largest and fattest cat I had ever encountered but also the (0)  (lazy). His days were usually spent lying stretched out in the warmest spot he could find. He seemed capable of sleeping for hours on end and was frequently to be seen slumbering (1)  (peace) on some sunny windowsill. Other cats would have envied Ginger his freedom; his owners were rarely in and he was left outdoors most of the time. If he had been an (2)  (adventure) cat, he might have climbed trees, chased birds or caught mice, but instead Ginger’s (3)  (prefer) was for fine dining and relaxation.

He often strolled over to visit Mrs. Carter, the elderly lady who lived opposite. She derived great (4)  (please) from spoiling him with tasty treats. The gratitude Ginger showed by rubbing himself affectionately around her legs, his magnificent tail brushing against her skirt, would have been touching if he had actually been a hungry cat. Ginger’s (5)  (appear), however, made it perfectly clear that he was used to receiving much more food than he actually needed.

 

But was that a reason for him to refuse a (6)  (hand) of finely chopped chicken or a dish of freshly cooked liver or a saucer of cream? Certainly not! Mrs. Carter once informed me that Ginger was (7)  (impressed) by tinned cat food – hardly surprising considering the alternatives he was offered!

 

(8)  (practice) the only energetic movement I ever saw Ginger make was when he jumped up on to the bonnet of my car. He liked to make himself comfortable there on a chilly evening when I got back from work, obviously (9)  (joy) the heat of the still warm engine. I was always struck by how elegantly Ginger performed this leap. He was able to calculate with absolute precision the distance he had to jump, landing lightly and silently and without ever slipping.