There was once a witch called Smoragda who didn't have a cat. The Chief Witch wasn't very pleased about it, and commanded Smoragda to come and explain her lack of a cat in person. So Smoragda mounted her broomstick and flew to Castle Greydoom.
"Now look here, Smoragda," began the Chief Witch. "You must get yourself a cat. All witches have a cat. You can't be a witch without one."
"I don't want a cat," whined Smoragda.
"Stuff and nonsense! Why ever not?" snapped the Chief Witch.
Smoragda looked at her through her slanty green eyes and cracked her knobbly knuckles crossly. "I don't like cats," she said.
"Not like cats! NOT LIKE CATS!" shrieked the Chief Witch, her crumpled face quivering with rage. "We'll see about that! I shall send you a cat tomorrow. Do not try to get rid of it with spells. My magic is stronger than yours. Now go home."
The next morning Smoragda was awakened by a dreadful, ear-splitting yowl outside her window.
"The cat!" she thought, and went to the door. Opening it, she saw a small, black cat sitting on the step.
"Scram!" yelled Smoragda, and slammed the door. A few moments later she opened it again. The cat was still there, with his back to her.
"Shoooooo!" hissed Smoragda. The cat didn't even twitch his tail. Then very slowly he turned his head and fixed his great yellow eyes on Smoragda and yawned.
"B-b-b-broomsticks and buffaloes," growled Smoragda, "this is going to be difficult." And she banged the door shut again.
All that day Smoragda worked her way through her Giant Book of Spells, especially the 'Disappearing', 'Vanishing' and 'Getting Rid Of' sections. But the spells were all useless. At bedtime the cat was still on the doorstep, though he had curled up and gone to sleep.
"Drat this cat," said Smoragda. "If magic doesn't work, I shall have to take him somewhere and lose him! Now, where shall I take him?"
In the morning Smoragda opened the door and called the cat:
"Pussy, Pussy, Pussy! Who's a nice little Pussy then? Come to mummy. "
The cat opened an eye and uncurled itself slowly. It looked down its nose at the witch's shaggy red hair and long green fingernails, then arched its back and had a good stretch. Smoragda grabbed it. It let out a fearful yowl, but she hung on and galloped towards her broomstick. After a terrible fight, Smoragda managed to tie the cat onto the handle of the broomstick and, leaping astride, she took off.
High into the sky they flew, higher than a plane, and faster than a train. The air screamed past them and flattened the cat's ears to its head and its whiskers to its cheeks. Smoragda untied the cat:
Hang on pussy cat," she cried, "or you might just fall off." And she let out a dreadful shriek of laughter.
Now Smoragda was famous for her aerobatics. She had won prizes for looping the loop, and her sky dives were spectacular. Roaring through the sky with the cat behind her, she threw her broomstick into all the high-flying tricks she knew. She zig-zagged, she curled, she dodged and stalled. She went into a record head-dive which made even her own stomach turn over - but she couldn't shake the cat off. He sat calmly through it all.
At last, in desperation, she looped the biggest loop. It was so enormous that her heels hit the stars and made sparks fly. Everyone on Earth saw hundreds of shooting stars.
"This is it, cat. Say goodbye!" yelled Smoragda, as broomstick, witch and cat fell from the top of the loop into a death-defying dive. Even Smoragda was using all her magic to stay on. Her pointed witches' hat disappeared and so did the cat. Smoragda looked back to make quite sure and shouted a triumphant "Hooray!" But, when she turned round again, what a shock she got! For there was the cat, sitting on the front of the broomstick enjoying every minute of it. He had climbed round to get a better view.
So they shot down to Earth together and Smoragda tried everything she knew to make the cat fall off. She dived into the deepest ocean, but the cat loved the fish and asked her to do it again. She travelled through the hottest deserts, but the cat loved the sun. She tried to freeze him in Antarctica, but he got on very well with penguins. She even took him to the moon, but he said he'd always wanted to be the first cat to land there.
Exhausted, Smoragda returned home. The cat smiled and asked when they could go up again.
Smoragda went to see the Chief Witch.
"Okay, you win!" she said. "I'll keep the cat. I'm beginning to think he's rather special."
"He is," answered the Chief Witch. "I gave him nine lives."
So that is how Smoragda the witch got her cat.