JAN BROGAN: Clea Simon is the author of 10 mysteries and three nonfiction books. Her latest mysteries are “Grey Expectations” (Severn House), featuring the feline ghost Mr. Grey, and the Booklist-starred “Cats Can’t Shoot” (Poisoned Pen), which hosts several dogs as well as the curmudgeonly tabby Wallis. She, her husband Jon, and their tuxedo cat Musetta live in Somerville, Mass., where Clea and Musetta have taken to watching the birds together, sometimes with bad intent. Please welcome her to Jungle Red! CLEA SIMON: I’m an animal lover. And as they are in my writing, critters of one sort or another are essential to my life. Even, sometimes, ghost pets. Animals. I love them so much I can’t let them go. So you wouldn’t think I’d be throwing plates at critter, would you? Attempting to kill one, in cold blood?
What’s worse, there were witnesses. But I can explain.
To start with, I live in the city. Yes, we now have a little
yard and I’ve gotten a bit obsessive about my bird feeder, doing my best to
lure the cardinals and finches and discourage the ravenous sparrows (aka
“pigbirds”) with every combination of seed and suet available. And I’m enough
of a cat person that I keep up on the news of coyotes (there’s supposedly a
pack in the woods of nearby Mt. Auburn Cemetary) and those nasty, weaselly
fishers (spotted only one town farther out!) that are reclaiming their
territory. But I’ve got an indie coffeehouse a five minute walk away, and two
world-class bookstores within 20. There are buses and subways, and the sounds
of sirens. I like it that way. It feels civilized.
So imagine my surprise when a friend dropped by and said,
“You know, you’ve got a wild turkey at the end of your street.” I was wearing
socks, no shoes, when I opened the door and I immediately ran out to see. Sure
enough, a young male (we think) was two doors down, in a neighbor’s driveway,
clucking. I ran back to alert Jon and we watched, entranced until we realized
that our presence was probably keeping him in that driveway – and that he was
likely clucking his distress. And then, being animal lovers, we walked away. We
let him be.
Jon returned the favor only four days later, calling to me
as he left for work. “Turkey!” He yelled. “On the shed!” Sure enough, the young
male – we’re assuming for argument’s sake it was the same bird – was
perched on our little tool shed. I watched him, entranced, as he sat, thinking
whatever it is that birds think. My neighbor was watching too, and we did the
miming thing (“Turkey!”) and waved. Turkey!
All was fine, and I went to get my coffee. And that’s when
it happened. The turkey, spurred on by whatever motivates these birds, hopped
into my yard. I ran for the camera and caught him pecking at our tiny bit of
grass. I thought about going outside, about opening a gate. After all, it was
probably easier to hop down into a fenced yard than to hop out of one. And I
am, as I may have said, an animal lover. But then the turkey spread his wings
and with a few flaps elevated himself to the top of our fence, right by the
trellis where I have been training a sweet autumn clematis in hope of September
blossoms. Once again, I was in awe.
And then he started eating. No, not eating. Grabbing big
beakfuls of leaves and pulling them off, dropping half of them and denuding the
young plant. Pulling it off the trellis. And I lost it. Still in my nightshirt,
I ran out to our back deck and clapped loudly. Hey, it works with the cat. But
the turkey only stared at me, as if to say, “Hey, lady, what’s your problem.” I
yelled and clapped some more. No response. More leaves gone.
Finally, I picked up the drainage plate from an empty
planter and winged it at him. It fell short – and shattered, our grass not
being that thick. And that’s when I realized that I was standing on the deck,
in my nightie, screaming bloody murder at a bird. I couldn’t tell if my
neighbor was amused or appalled, he dropped his curtain so quickly, but I was forced
to confront the dark truth at the bottom of my soul. I am an animal lover. But
when forced to defend my clematis, I just may be capable of murder.JAN: Clea's book, as well as all Severn House mysteries are now available on ebook atAmazon, Kobo, Barnes&Noble, and the Book Depository. You can like Severn House at http://www.facebook.com/severnhouse
And you can follow at: @severnhouse
Clea will be stopping by to answer your questions about mysteries, animals, or animal mysteries. For more info on her books check out her site at http://www.cleasimon.com
