Showing posts with label cats. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cats. Show all posts

Saturday, July 27, 2024

The Best

 






Bright eyes bushy tail.

That was my boy, my beautiful boy.

Purring, cuddling, lying next to me.

Stretching, scratching the cat pad, throwing a toy around.

Once upon a time you loved a laser pointer, a milk cap, the scent of catnip. Soft blankets, sun puddles, cuddling your sister. You jumped so high to catch yarn. You jumped and caught a few flies too.

You never wanted to be held but we shared special time each night, such special moments next to each other. We watched movies and how you loved bird videos, cat videos, The Lion King.

When a storm was coming you would zoom through the house on white paws flying up and down the stairs. But the sounds didn't scare you. The heart of a lion was yours.

You washed your sister like a good brother, but then would pounce and make her hiss. Her tail was the best toy of all to grab as she pranced by. But you did it all gently. Nothing mean about you.

I called you my boy boy, and Wocky. I sang songs, silly songs to you and you blinked that slow loving blink that told me you loved everything I did.

How the treats made your whiskers twitch, and later, your churros. I never minded the few years of thyroid pills to keep you well, to keep you whole, to keep you.

Weight started to drop, energy level too. You couldn't make it onto the couch or into the tub to drink your morning water. We didn't meet on the couch any  longer and you chose to hide downstairs where it was quiet and calm. Though you greeted me when I looked for you and purred and purred when I rubbed those feline cheeks. Something was wrong. Something that might take you from me.

I knew it was time to say goodbye though. A good mom knows these things and she would never hurt you, never let you suffer, so she decided and it was hard, it was rough, it was sad. You purred when you saw me, you let me rub those kitty cheeks again. But our time was short and fifteen years wasn't long enough, no amount of time would have been.

There's a void, an empty place in our home, in my heart, as we go on without you and your sister looks for you.  

Your love wraps around me, your sweetness. And the fact that you made me better. I will love you forever my sweet sweet boy.




Saturday, March 26, 2022

A Reunion of Love

 


Bebby on Mom's favorite outdoor blanket

Walrus cat is what Dad called you. With whiskers so long; no cat had them like you. Mom called you Baby but pronounced it Bebby. You were that and more to her. Like a little child, but also companion, friend, confidante in the middle of the night. But you were mischievous and a bit sneaky too.

Remember how you worried Mom who tried to keep you as an indoor cat? But you wanted to be free outside in the air to hunt and play. Sometimes you wouldn't return for the longest time. I can picture you lying under a nearby bush having your kitty laugh as she called and called for you. Then she came in and told us, "Baby's gone this time. I know it." But you were never gone... that is, until today.

A promise to Dad as he passed to take care of Mom. And in our hearts, a promise to Mom as she passed that we would take care of you. Oh, you knew, yes you knew when Mom left us and you laid on her blankets where her scent must have been. You looked into our faces with kitty cat questions of "why" and "where" but we had no way to explain to you that Mom had gone home... that is, until today.

Today you met her again. She and Dad and Mya, Buffy, Fluffy, Lady, and those who had been loved, oh so loved as you were. She saw you and you ran; no longer old and tired, but frisky cat body lean and healthy; long legs running as you did as a young kitty. You jumped into her arms and covered her face with kitty kisses and walrus whisker rubs as she called you "My Baby."



Bebby the "Walrus cat"



King of the house

Saturday, April 23, 2016

The Neighborhood Cat





He was orange and scruffy. He seemed ageless. He was bold, unafraid and in your face. He was friends with every child at the grade school down the road. His name was Tiger, and he was the neighborhood cat.

Just yesterday, my father asked me about that cat. My father is eighty-five, and I found myself amazed that the memory of Tiger popped into his head. "Kar," he asked. "Do you remember the cat that was friends with every kid at the school years back?"

I hadn't thought of Tiger in a while. But he is one cat I won't ever forget, especially since it meant so much to Dad to talk about him. It warmed me that thinking that the silly cat made my father smile and he couldn't stop talking about it for days.

Tiger would stand at the bus stop across the street waiting with a group of children for their morning ride to school. At the end of their day, he would trudge patiently and carefully across the street, once again, as if to welcome them home. There were times he would follow one particular child for a while, as if he knew that they needed a little extra care or friendship that day perhaps.

And Tiger would walk to the grade school near his own house, spending time just like one of the gang with groups of children, rubbing in and out of their ankles, looking up quizzically into their faces as if trying to understand what they were talking about.

The cutest story about this cat however happened when I sat watching a school concert one evening with friends. My son, Matt, was in a little chorus routine, and all of the moms jostled for position in the auditorium. It was a stuffy evening from what I remember, so the doors to the outside were propped wide open.

The lights dimmed, the children began to assemble in their places on the stage before us, when big as life, Tiger walked out onto the stage with them. Audience members couldn't believe it. That silly cat had gone too far. Boldly, brazenly walking not only into the auditorium, but also believing he had every right to be there with what he'd come to know as his friends.

Many people pulled out their video recorders and began filming, others erupted in laughter. One teacher went to shoo the cat from the stage, but of course the damage had already been done, and Tiger had completely stolen the show.

I never really found out what happened to that cat, as my own life got in the way. Rumor had it, that someone actually stole him from the neighborhood because they wanted to give him what they thought was a better home.

Whatever happened, I know that our lives are a little better for having known this special kitty. I learned some lessons from him. Be bold. Be friendly. Be caring. Be all "in your face" when you want something. Make new friends, keep the old. And rub a ton of ankles. Whatever will warm another person, that's what Tiger did. And that's something I'd like to do in this world. Touch lives and warm people with stories such as this one. There's so much seriousness. I want to be remembered like Tiger.

Monday, December 7, 2015

A little fun, a little mystery and a lot of heart!








Sometimes in life we are fortunate to make new friends, people we'd have never known otherwise due to the most interesting circumstances. Where else could I have met a woman who shares the passion of writing, the love of cats and an Italian heritage close to my own?

Facebook and the internet can be a wonderful venue to meet just such a person. And today, in her own words, I introduce the lovely Mae Clair to you all. Mae has written a tale in time for Christmas that I think you'll enjoy. A little mystery, a little romance, and as Mae puts it: "a smidgen of horror." I believe you will be glad you've met this talented, fun author.

Cats, Christmas, and Romance by Mae Clair
It’s hard to believe that Christmas is looming just around the corner. I have no complaints though, because Christmas is my favorite holiday. Not only do I enjoy December 25th and Christmas Eve, but I love the entire month of December. It’s like one long holiday with all the merriment, festivities, and spirit of goodwill that leads up to that very special day. I’m a Christmas sap.

So it stands to reason I’d eventually get around to writing a Christmas story.

Those who know me also know there are two things (other than writing) I’m passionate about: folklore and cats. When it came time to dream up a Christmas story, I decided to weave both elements into the tale. The result is FOOD FOR POE, a short Christmas novella that is also a tale of sweet romance, twined with the paranormal, and even a wee smidgen of horror (just a smidge, I promise!).

Take a look:

When a blizzard strands Quinn Easterly at a handsome stranger's house on Christmas Eve, she doesn't realize her newly adopted cat, Poe, is the catalyst responsible for bringing them together.
Breck Lansing gave up on relationships after his wife, unable to cope with their daughter’s illness, left him. But the pretty blonde he rescues from a snowstorm has him rethinking his stance—especially when Quinn’s arrival coincides with a dramatic change in Sophie’s health.
Unfortunately, that change also attracts something only whispered about in folklore. Together, Quinn and Breck must defeat a sinister creature intent on claiming the ultimate payment.
Warning: A clever black cat, Christmas magic and paranormal trouble
~ooOOoo~


I’m happy to announce that FOOD FOR POE has just released. YAY! In celebration of the holidays, you can grab a copy for $.99 at http://www.amazon.com/Food-Poe-Mae-Clair-ebook/dp/B01800L6UE . If you don’t have a Kindle, you can download a FREE Kindle Reading App for your PC, MAC, iPad, iPhone, Android or tablet: http://www.amazon.com/gp/help/customer/display.html?nodeId=200783640 . Cats and Christmas. What could be better? J
Merry Pre-Christmas and Happy Holidays!

Mae Clair's Bio:

Mae Clair opened a Pandora’s Box of characters when she was a child and never looked back.  Her father, an artist who tinkered with writing, encouraged her to create make-believe worlds by spinning tales of far-off places on summer nights beneath the stars.
Mae loves creating character-driven fiction in settings that vary from contemporary to mythical. Wherever her pen takes her, she flavors her stories with mystery and romance. Married to her high school sweetheart, she lives in Pennsylvania and is passionate about cryptozoology, old photographs, a good Maine lobster tail and cats.

Discover more about Mae on her website and blog at http://maeclair.net/
Sign up for Mae’s newsletter http://maeclair.net/newsletter-sign-up/
You can find Mae Clair at the following haunts:
http://maeclair.net/blog/
https://twitter.com/MaeClair1 (@MaeClair1)
https://plus.google.com/+MaeClair/post
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Mae-Clair/219356774828949?ref=hl
http://www.amazon.com/Mae-Clair/e/B009I61ND0/ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1?qid=1394989729&sr=8-1
http://www.kensingtonbooks.com/author.aspx/29541
http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6468716.Mae_Clair
https://www.pinterest.com/maeclair/
Purchase FOOD FOR POE from Amazon:  http://www.amazon.com/Food-Poe-Mae-Clair-ebook/dp/B01800L6UE





Thanks so much for participating, Mae!


Tuesday, July 21, 2015

Avalon, a cat story for all time



 Some cats need nine lives to make a difference. Avalon only needed one.

Many of us have been touched by a beloved pet. Some of us may have cats or dogs that have been with us for years and they've become members of our families. Recently I had the pleasure of finding one of the most touching animal stories of all time. In her lovely book, Avalon, Amazon bestselling author Vanessa Morgan shares a story of the love between pet and owner, a bond so strong it was seemingly unbreakable. 

I was fortunate enough to read this amazing tale, which is part memoir of Ms. Morgan's life as well. I found her honesty and life story compelling, gritty and poignant. I saw myself mirrored in many of her insecurities, and rejoiced in her triumphs. Mostly I sat amazed in what I read about a feline companion of which I've never seen the likes before.

Avalon is the heartwarming and once-in-a-lifetime love story of a girl and her neurotic Turkish Van cat.

With humor, the author details how Avalon made other creatures cringe in distress whenever he was around, how he threw her dates out by means of special techniques, and how he rendered it almost impossible for her to leave the house. Avalon was so incorrigible that even her landlord ordered her to get rid of him. But beneath Avalon's demonic boisterousness, Vanessa recognized her own flaws and insecurities, and she understood that abandoning Avalon would be the worst she could do to him. Thanks to her unswerving loyalty, Avalon transformed into a tender feline, and even landed a major role in a horror movie. In turn, Avalon made it his mission to be there for his human companion.

Avalon is a memoir for anyone who has ever been obsessively in love with a pet.

Vanessa tells us a little about her writing journey:

"I've always been interested in stories.

As a toddler, I listened to my grandfather's bedtime stories about Laurel & Hardy going on a safari. In my childhood, I buried myself in books. And in my teens, I watched more movies in a year than there were days.

Yet it wasn't until my early twenties that I developed the desire to write my own fictional stories. I lived in London at that time and was completely obsessed with West End theater. During a theatrical performance of Faulkner's As I Lay Dying, I suddenly KNEW that I would never feel accomplished if I didn't write something just as beautiful.

In the months that followed, I became well aware of what I wanted to write. I especially liked stories that either scared me to death or provided readers/viewers with a sense of recognition regarding the darker sides of people's personalities and lives.

Scaring people was easy, so I started with that. My first two books, Drowned Sorrow and The Strangers Outside, were supernatural thrillers with one aim: to make readers so uncomfortable and scared they could hardly sleep at night.

My third release, A Good Man, was a mix of both genres. It was still a horror story, but my desire to focus on characters and unravel dark truths was slowly taking the upper hand.

Only now, with my latest book, Avalon, was I brave enough to embrace that honesty one hundred percent. It's easy to just give bits and pieces of the truth and adapt the rest to what you think the story and audience wants to read. I tried that with Avalon as well. It didn't work. If I wanted my book to have an emotional impact, I had to get uncomfortable and reveal the things I tried so hard to hide all my life. It was hard. It was scary. But with Avalon, I finally became the writer I wanted to be."

She is kind enough to share a humorous blurb from her story:

Around three o’clock that night, Avalon was fed up with the strange man in his bed. He plonked his rear down on Gillespillow, complaining fretfully in his ear while tapping him on the face.
After nearly an hour of incessant wailing and poking, more drastic measures were required. The new solution: pushing Gilles out of bed.
Avalon succeeded.
Climbing back under the covers wasn’t an option. Unable to sleep, Gilles got up. "I guess I didn't pass the test."
"Give Avalon some time. Maybe he was just irked because you took his side of the bed."
But Gilles had already understood that this wasn't going to be a one-time event.
For several minutes, Gilles and Avalon sized each other up. Then Gilles said, "I’d better leave the two of you alone now. It’s clearly what the little guy wants."
I swear I could see Avalon smirking when Gilles put on his jacket and left.
Instantly, Avalon leapt onto me, and compensated for the evening before. He entered a kiss-induced trance. This cat was all about exclusivity, and when granted that exclusivity, his love was immense.
"Are you really that happy that Gilles is gone?"
In reply, Avalon looked at me with swoony eyes and purred loudly, then swatted out his paw to urge me to continue to pet him, which I did.
A phone call interrupted our tender moment. It was Gilles.
"There won't be any train to Brussels for hours," he said. "Is it okay if I come back to your place for a while?"
"Of course." His return would offend Avalon, but I couldn’t possibly leave Gilles outside in the rain for several hours.
As soon as Gilles appeared at the front door, Avalon’s pupils widened to a pitch black.
Let's see who's the boss here, he seemed to be thinking.
Being a cat of action, Avalon went through his usual attention-seeking routine: making a selection of irritating noises, scratching the wallpaper, and pushing objects to the ground.
When that didn't work, Avalon opened Gilles' overnight bag and threw out a piece of clothing. His eyes so dark and evil they could be gateways to hell, Avalon stared at his adversary and waited for a reaction. He then pulled out a box of gel wax. Again, he looked up at Gilles to make sure he understood that all this bungling was meant to get a message across. A third object followed, then a fourth, a fifth, a sixth, until there was nothing.
Hell-bent on winning the game, Avalon took Gilles' coat in his mouth and towed it toward the front door. There, he used his right paw to tap the keys hanging from the wooden doorframe.
Avalon’s message couldn’t be any clearer: there was room for only one man in my life. A feline one.

I'd like to thank Vanessa Morgan for being a very special guest on my blog today. If you'd like to purchase Avalon or find her other works and social media, the links are below. She also writes a very special blog for cat lovers all over the world at Traveling Cats. There you will find stunning photos of some of the most beautiful felines and the places they inhabit.


Purchase links for Avalon

Amazon.co.uk: http://amzn.to/1ImdPRo



Vanessa Morgan is an author, screenwriter, and blogger. Two of her works, The Strangers Outside and A Good Man, have been turned into films. Her short film script Next to Her is currently in pre-production. When she's not working on her latest book, you can find her reading, watching horror movies, digging through flea markets, or photographing felines for her blog Traveling Cats (http://travelling-cats.blogspot.com).


Social media links


























Monday, October 27, 2014

Meet the Fur- Bombers




Meet the Fur-Bombers! is a pet blog starring four highly active dogs, four cats and two humans sharing stories and adventures with the intent to brighten up peoples day, and occasionally bring awareness to little known or talked about pet health issues that they've had to deal with or are currently dealing with.

Victoria Carter, the caring owner and administrator has this to say about her loving fur family:

Our family consists of four highly active dogs, four cats and two humans sharing stories of our adventures both good and bad, but mostly good.

Memphis and Belle (named for the WWII Memphis Belle B-17 Bomber): My mom and I were in a mom and pop pet store six years ago (they aren’t there anymore) and they were working with a small rescue (that is no longer working anymore). We saw these two little small white fluff balls, at the time they were ten weeks old, had just had their first set of shots and were recovering from a flea infestation. I honestly was more attracted to Belle (original name Angel), and my mom was obsessed with Memphis’ toes (originally named Marshmallow). When we found out that they were the last ones of the litter I couldn’t split them up, not when I knew that I’d be working full time, so, I took them both! It was a good thing too! As it turns out, Memphis is deaf, and has a genetic heart condition along with being a polydactyl, and he is deeply attached to Belle and myself, being deaf he relies on touch to help him know what is going on so he lays right next to me or his sister for security. I don’t think he would have made it to Six years considering being deaf with a heart condition.

Pete, we believe was born in my husbands neighbors shed six years ago (yup same age as Memphis and Belle), his neighbors wife was the one who noticed their dogs going crazy at the shed, and went to rescue him. He was the only kitten that she found, no momma or littermates, and since her dogs weren’t to keen on cats (her husband wasn’t to fond of kitties either) so she asked if Kevin wanted him, and that as we say is history. He’s had him ever since, and once I moved in after our marriage, Pete took an immediate liking to me and has now become a spoiled housecat, who occasionally likes to go sunning in the yard. (all our kitties have daytime outside privileges, they all come in at night)

Q.B. 2.5 was born in our house 11 years ago. My husband had received a good mouser from a friend, she was solid white, and was named Q.B. 2 (after a solid white dog he had in the past). She ended up getting pregnant while he was deployed to Iraq, when he came home shortly after her kittens were born the only one that his house sitter kept was Q.B. 2.5 (the rest of the litter is spread out with Kevin’s brothers) who was named after his mother (who ended up disappearing shortly after the kittens were weaned) since he was the spitting image of her but was only a kitten thus the .5 instead of going all the way up to 3.


How we acquired the dogs is also somewhat similar, the only thing I could say is; despite having a houseful if we were to find another critter, or one was to find us, that was in need and was easily accepted by our current group they would probably end having a home too.

It is always wonderful to meet such caring animal friends.

 Please stop by their Facebook page:
  https://www.facebook.com/Furbombers?fref=ts

And for more touching animal stories and amazing photos, check out their blog:
http://www.meetthefurbombers.com/

I'd like to thank Victoria and her furry crew for being on my blog today! 














Thursday, October 9, 2014

Paying It Forward







I realize there are kind-hearted  people in the world. It must be so, for how can someone take a tragic situation and make it right? What follows my friends is just such a story. A wonderful cat who "pays it forward," Diamond the cat. In his own words, you will hear of how he found life and love at the care of one good woman. I must warn you however, that it begins as a very sad tale, and the pictures of when he was first found are disturbing. But it's the ending that matters. Diamond has found his "furever" home and wants to help others now.



My name is Diamond and I was rescued on Memorial Weekend in May of 2013. When my foster Mom (Victoria) found me, I was very sick and the vets did not think that I would make it. They told her that I should be put to sleeps; but thankfully she didn't listen to them! Victoria was taking care of her friends fur babies when she found a note on the door about me. A sweet 13 year old girl wrote her that note saying there was a kitty in her front yard that she thought was very sick. That kitty was me. I had scabies soooo bad that I could not close my eyes or move my legs. I was dehydrated and only 4 pounds!! As soon as my foster Mommy saw me, she put me in the carrier and rushed me to the vets. Since she told them she wanted to try to save me, they gave me fluids and medicines. The entire time I was getting the fluids, I just stood in the cage purring.  I KNEW I was getting the help I so desperately needed!! I went back later for some more medicines and shots. While I was recovering, my foster brother Flipper and my Foster Mommy kept posting about me with my pictures and kept asking everybody to say a  prayer for me....I started making such pawsome recovery thanks to the medicines, my foster Mommy and all the prayers!  It took me 8 weeks to get to my furever home ~ but it was well worth the wait!!

My new Mommy, Kerri,  followed me from the day that Vicky rescued me, even when she was on vacation, she kept checking up on me!! When I was healthy enough to go to my very own furever home, Kerri asked my Foster Mommy if she could haven the honor of raising me - so they met & when my new Mommy saws me, it was LOVE at first sight by her!! But to tell the truth, she loved me before she ever met me!! She knew I was a purrfect fit for the family!! She said from the VERY first picture she saw of me covered all with scabies and a bad cut on my front paw, that she was in love and wanted nothing more then to have me as a member of our family.  So my new Mommy was so excited when my Foster Mommy saids YES, you are purrfect for Diamond!! 

Now I did make my Foster Mommy and my Mommy and Daddy a promise and the promise was to always pays to forward for all the other fur babies in need and to keep everybody updated on me that followed me through my foster Mommy and foster brudders Facebook pages ~ so that is how I ended up with my very own FaceBook page!! 

And then the best part is my very talented Aunt Debra, who owns SewSweetProducts makes these amazing toys that you can get any picture on and have a cool toy for your fur baby that is custom made!! And with every toy that she sells, I receive a portion of the proceeds to help other fur babies in need.  I think every one needs to check out her FaceBook page https://www.facebook.com/Sewsweetproducts   and her Esty store ~ that link is:   https://www.etsy.com/shop/SewSweetProducts I am most excited and blessed that we got this off the ground and I have started raising funds for fur babies in need ~ that was my whole goal with my FaceBook page, and now to see that actually happening, I just can't stop doing the Happy Kitty Dance!!!  I still can't believe we finally have started Diamond's P.I.F. Fund and I am getting to help other fur babies in need!!
 Somewhere along the line, I started signing all my posts "I LUBS y'all a billions" and ever since I did that, it kind of stuck with me and to this day, I use that as my "catch phrase" and many who did not really know me, now know me just by that!! So on all of my toys sold at my Aunt Debra's shop, if you get a picture of me on the product, you will also get that phrase too!  Many thanks everyone for letting me tell my story. I hopes you will stop by and visit me sometime. And remember, please help out those in need, especially the underdogs or under'cats' of the world. You never know what a difference you can make in one small life.



 



Monday, September 8, 2014

Chapter One: Goober's Tail









Piggy
Part 1
Goober’s Tail
A pink-nosed kitten barely two months old, reached his paws toward the stately grey-striped tabby trying to bathe him with her sandpaper tongue. He swatted at her tail, trying to catch it between two small, but very furry paws. He wriggled away from her, annoyed at this bath time ritual.
“Stop it, Mom, that tickles,” the kitten said.
The mother cat ignored her babe, continuing to lick every inch of her precious adopted son. The tongue combed through the white fur, and her paw gently held him down.
She fretted over the rescued kitten, not only in keeping him clean, but especially because he was so vulnerable, the smallest one of the litter. Her human had chosen him from the animal shelter for this very reason. He had a soft spot for the underdogs of the world.
“Why do I have to be clean before bed?” The kitten squirmed, catching his mother’s tail this time before she gently pulled it away from him.
The mother cat who’d answered this question many times before stopped for a moment.
“Peanut,” she said. “I have a different kind of “tail” for you. What if I tell you the most wonderful story tonight? It’s a bedtime tale that I think you might enjoy.”
Peanut the kitten stopped fussing; his big green eyes alight with wonder. “A story, Mama, a fun story?”
“Oh yes, but this one is true. It’s about an unlikely friendship, great bravery, heroes and villians. This is the story of the great mouse rescue.”
“A mouse?” Peanut questioned.
The grey-striped tabby cuddled her young one close. She licked his soft, tiny head and then rested her chin upon him. A sigh escaped her, and she looked up into the darkness of the room; her cat night vision excellent. Her human was asleep, snoring away in the next room. She closed her eyes and let the thoughts come to her; thoughts of her dear sister and friends. A meow that sounded oddly like a chuckle echoed in her mind, or had she heard it?
Settling in with her paw across Peanut’s back, Goober the cat began her tale.
                                                                        *****
A dilapidated, gray-shingled house sat among tidy red brick homes in a quiet neighborhood of Ambridge, Pennsylvania. It stood out for the peeling strips of paint, the sagging front porch, and the tendrils of ivy creeping up the side. A wooden fence badly in need of a paint job surrounded it with a creaking, rusty gate. Behind this gate sat the meanest, toughest, and angriest cat anyone ever laid eyes on: his name was Bolivar. He belonged to no one and nobody belonged to him. Day after day, he’d wait for unsuspecting pretty, seducing them with his snake-like voice, and then grabbing them when they least expected.
The house in which he stood sentry had been deserted for several years. He claimed this property for himself and picked fights with other cats in the neighborhood who dared step foot inside his weedy yard.
Bolivar lifted his ragged orange head and licked at a wound on one paw. The scar on the right side of his face and his partially torn ear pained him today; the results of many battles. His stomach growled; he hadn’t eaten a decent meal in at least four days.
Recently, the neighbors had begun to lock their trashcans up tightly; a few of them included heavy bricks on top to prevent him from tipping them. Not a scrawny bird to eat, not even a tasty little crawling bug; his mood went from bad to worse.
Out of the corner of his eye, through one of the slats in the fence, Bolivar spotted movement. In the next yard, a plump, furry brown mouse frolicked about. With his changing luck, Bolivar perked up. He lay low to the ground, every muscle in his body tense and alert. His tail twitched in anticipation and his hind quarters wiggled as he sprung forward to pounce upon the unsuspecting rodent. . .
                                                                        *****
Goober paused for a moment with her story. Peanut apparently had forgotten all about sleeping. He stared at his mama, wide-eyed.
“I thought you said this was a mouse rescue? It sounds like this cat was ready for dinner.”
“I did, son, be patient,” Goober said, and resumed licking her kitten. Peanut rolled onto his back, paws in the air, Mama’s tongue made the fur of his belly stick up in all directions.
“Well I don’t like Bolivar,” Peanut shivered. “He sounds mean and scary.”
“Yes, he was,” Goober said, sighing. “But let me go back a little further. I’m going to tell you how another cat, a brave, beautiful cat got the best of him and how she and a mouse became the closest of friends.
You see, we don’t always have to fight or prove ourselves to be big and strong. Sometimes it’s the smallest of creatures who can teach us life’s greatest lessons.”
Peanut began purring while mama resumed her story.



If you enjoyed this preview of the first chapter of the book "Piggy" below are the links to order a copy. Available in paperback and e-book versions.



 http://www.amazon.com/Piggy-Karen-Malena-ebook/dp/B00MR92EXS/ref=sr_1_3?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1410223907&sr=1-3&keywords=karen+malena

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/piggy-karen-malena/1120032425?ean=9780990619116


http://www.tuxedoebooks.com/store/p9/Piggy.html



Some of the proceeds of this book will be donated to My Ferals, a Facebook cat community which helps many stray and feral cats.

Here is a link to a free giveaway of the book to one lucky person!
 http://katzenworld.co.uk/2014/09/09/book-review-piggys-story-by-karen-malena/