The Summer of the Cat by Jenn McKinlay

The Dude Abides

Happy Caturday! I have no idea how I ended up here. None. I'm not even a cat person. Yes, I have three but they were an accident! 

You see, I grew up in a house of birders so cats were no bueno. Until I went to college and my roommate, Evan, came home with a tiny orange tabby named Chubby, I'd never even been close to a cat. Well, Evan took off to Martha's Vineyard to be a waiter and Chubby somehow became mine. The beginning of a pattern, I fear.

Shortly after Chubs passed, the Humane Society announced there were too many cats and they were going to start mass euthanizing. We did our part and adopted two black cats, Patsy and Loretta. They are now seventeen and a half. One is blind and one is terminally cranky, so we know their time is winding down. We still have King George, who we found abandoned a few years ago, and he'll be five soon. Frankly, a one cat house seemed dandy to me.

Then this happened...

At three weeks old, El Duderino just wandered up to me on our patio. I thought he was another abandoned little man, but no. He came with a squad, because of course, he did.

Mama and I set up a routine where I became the bringer of food twice a day for her and the wee ones. My neighbors pitched in but Mama decided our side yard under a big old yellow bell tree was her happy place, and there they stayed. When they were eight weeks old, she started to wean them and we knew decisions had to be made. 

The Dude, having the sense of a chicken nugget, kept following me home, wandering out into the open grass where he'd lie down belly up. Can you say hawk bait? The Hub, Hooligans, and I decided we needed to bring The Dude in to save his dopey self. But what would happen to the others? Life on the street was harsh as evidenced by their Mama, a feral gal, who is barely an adult herself.

And so, we managed to catch the remaining three. I started feeding them in a cat carrier and one day when they all piled in, I just shut the door. I looked at Mama Cat, we call her Stella, and told her she'd been a great mom but now she was free. She met my gaze and very slowly closed her eyes. I think she was giving me her blessing. I watched her closely and she never cried or searched for the babies, and she still comes around morning and evening for food. I'm hoping to get her neutered after her children are adopted, although The Dude may have to stay, dang it. 

I was feeling like a bit of a mark, I mean, does every animal in the wild have my name and address? Is there some symbol on the road in front of my house? We just rescued a dog in January, so now we have two dogs, seven cats (four are temporary), and two fish who won't die. To say I was feeling overwhelmed would be a monumental understatement, then I saw a video of a man who stumbled upon a kitten that turned into thirteen kittens, so it's fine. Four are fine. Everything is fine. 😂😂😂

How about you, Reds and Readers? I know Hank has a duck situation - LOL - but who else is the critter magnet in their neighborhood? 

 

The Good Ones! Release Day for Jenn!

JENN McKINLAY: It's always so exciting when a new book is released! The Good Ones launches a brand new romantic comedy series for me, which is set (oh, my heart) in a romance bookstore  tucked away in the mountains of North Carolina. I've always wanted to own a bookstore - more in theory than reality - so this was perfect for me. It has everything I love in it, books, kittens, books, cowboys, books, comedy, books...well, you get the idea. I've been very fortunate to garner some amazing reviews and even a starred review from Booklist for which I am very grateful.

And now, just because I can, I thought I'd share an excerpt with you, because it's my book birthday and why the heck not?

Excerpt: The Good Ones

When Jake took off his cowboy hat and pulled her close, Claire wrapped her arms around him and the two became one. When they kissed she knew they were making each other a promise for today, tomorrow, and forever. Clare sighed. For the first time in her life, she knew that no matter what happened this man, who was her partner and her best friend, would be by her side. For all time.

     Maisy Kelly closed the book and pressed it to her chest and sighed. Jake Sinclair, the perfect man, why did he reside only in the pages of a book? It wasn’t fair. She was twenty-nine and none of the men she’d ever dated had been even remotely as caring or charming as Jake Sinclair.

     Knock knock knock.

     Maisy blinked. Someone was at the door. No, no, no. She had a book hangover and she didn’t want to deal with the world right now. 

     Knock knock knock. 

    They weren’t going away.Maisy rose from where she’d been seated on the bottom step of the stairs. In theory, she was supposed to be cleaning out her Great Aunt Eloise’s house, in reality she was binge reading Auntie El’s hoarder’s trove of romance novels. It wasn’t making the task, which was heartbreaking to begin with, any easier.

     Knock knock knock.

     “All right, all right,” Maisy grumbled. “I’m coming.”

     She strode to the door and yanked it open. Probably, if she had bothered to glance through the peep hole she would have been prepared, but she hadn’t and she wasn’t.

     Standing on her front step, looking impossibly handsome and imposing, was a cowboy. Maisy glanced down at her book. On the cover was the artist’s rendering of Jake Sinclair, in jeans and a white shirt, leaning against a split rail fence, with a brown cowboy hat tipped carelessly over his brow. Maisy could practically hear the cows mooing in the background. 

     She glanced back up. Jeans, white shirt, and a cowboy hat. This guy had it all going on, except where the artist had left Jake’s face in shadow and not clearly defined, this guy was a full on 3D HD of hotness, with full lips, faint stubble on his chin, and quite possibly the bluest eyes Maisy had ever seen this side of the sky. She had a sudden urge to poke him with her pointer finger to see if he was real.

     “Mornin’, Miss,” the man drawled, drawled!

    Miss? Huh, she hadn’t been called “Miss” since she’d started teaching at Fairdale University. Why would he…she glanced down.

     She was wearing her favorite floral Converse All-stars, ripped up denim shorts, and her old Fairdale University sweatshirt, the one with the sleeves that hung down past her hands, oh, and she had on no makeup and her hair was held back by an enormous pink headband. She probably looked like one of her college students, possibly a freshman.

     In that brief shining moment, she was certain if it was possible to die of embarrassment, she would expire in three…two…one. She gave it a second. Nope, still standing. Damn it.

     “Listen, I’m sorry, sir, but whatever you’re selling, I’m not interested—,” she began but he cut her off.

     “Oh, I’m not selling anything,” he said. He looked confused. “This is three-twenty-three Willow Lane, right?”

     “Yes, it is. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back--,” she let her voice trail off, hoping he’d get the hint. He didn’t.
     “I have an appointment with a Ms. Kelly about turning this place into a bookstore,” he said. “Or Mrs. Kelly, I’m not sure.”

     Maisy knew she didn’t have any appointments today. That was why she’d indulged herself in a good long reading sesh. This guy was probably a hustler, trying to con her to buy some property insurance or new windows. Ever since she’d inherited this monster of a house from Auntie El she’d had all sorts of scammers climbing out of the cracks in the sidewalk, trying to get her to refinance or buy a security system. It was exhausting.

     The man met her squinty stare with one of his own. He shrinkled up one eye and mimicked her look of disbelief right down to the small lip curl. The nerve! Then she saw the twinkle in his one open eye, and Maisy couldn’t hold it. She burst out laughing. 

     He grinned at her and her ire diminished as she noted the cowboy had a sense of humor. Okay, she decided to give him a break and at least take his name and number. 

     “I’m sorry,” she said. “What was your appointment with Ms. Kelly about?”

     “It’s about the house, actually,” he said. “My name’s Ryder Copeland. I’m a restoration architect, and you are?”

     “Ryder Copeland?” Maisy’s eyes went wide. “But our appointment isn’t until tomorrow, you know, Tuesday.”

     “Today is Tuesday,” he said. 

     “No, it isn’t,” she said. “It’s Monday.”

     “Sorry, it really is Tuesday. Wait,” he said. “Our appointment? You’re Maisy Kelly?”     

JENN: I have to say that one of the best parts about writing this series has been being able to share all of the authors and books in the romance game - yes, starting with Jane Austen - that I have loved over the years. 

                      

So, Reds and Readers, have you ever wanted to own a bookstore? If so, what type? 

And Along Came T-bone

LUCY BURDETTE: I've had a cat in my life ever since the year I turned 13. I was desperate for two things for that birthday--Mickey Dolenz of the Monkees, and a kitten. My mother was wise enough to agree to the kitten. It was January, though, and not the kitten season. She found one who'd been returned to the pound by his adoptive family. We called him Tigger, and I still have the receipt stamped "No Refund."

You might remember that both of our furry family members died this past summer. I have missed them terribly and worried I'd never find animal friends so wonderful. And I needed time to grieve, and negotiate what would be next with John.

But Monday my birthday came around again (a frightening number of years past 13) and I decided, with much encouragement, to go take a look at the Florida Keys animal shelter.

The shelter is located out on Stock Island, and it's tiny and bursting with animals. The volunteers and workers are very eager to get to the new building, most likely in February. This is the office and waiting room--on the other end was a gray cat in a cage named "Saucy," a gila monster, hamsters, an enormous snake, and many birds. And this being Key West, there was a rooster behind a gate.

My friend Stan went with me--I can't begin to describe how overwhelming it was to see 60 cats in four tiny rooms...How to choose? I was thinking of a tiger, either yellow like Tigger, or gray like Evinrude in the Key West mysteries. 

This guy had nice stripes...

Black cat on shelf

Cat in sink

Rocky was adorable but he seemed very shy

We met T-bone, who'd been spotted by a friend from the gym...

And then along came Ramp, a very frisky kitten who launched himself onto my chest and clung there purring...

I said to Stan, "I guess I've been chosen." So we went back to the office and told them I'd sign on for Ramp.

"Oh," said Del, the administrative assistant, "Ramp has a lot of heat around him." (Cat-shelter speak for he's hot.) "We've got four applications already on him."

"Ok, what about T-bone?"

"He has a hold application on him, too."

So I went back home, disappointed and unable to choose another. Two days later, my gym friend emailed again with photos of T-bone:

He greeted me at the door 
Played and purred
Followed me to the other rooms

The people with the hold are not ‘this cat specific’

Go adopt him

And so I did. He spent the first couple hours in the laundry room while I read in the hall and chatted with him. 

"T-bone, what do you know about social media?" I asked.

"Not much, mom, but I can learn."

And then he came out and there's no going back...

At the end of his first day...(gotta love the two-toned paw...)

And here's the next morning...

I admit to being completely besotted. So you'll be seeing lots of T-bone! And ps, here he is at the Marathon Vet Hospital on Monday, because yes, he developed a virus and got sick as a proverbial dog 4 days in. He says he's fine now, thanks for asking.

And here he is yesterday, feeling very much better and very much at home. 

Stripes on stripes

Thanks to my sister Sue, Bunnie, Leigh, Renee, Cheryl, and Stan for nudging me along. And to the wonderful folks at the SPCA who rescue so many animals and take care of what they need so they can find homes. If you're looking for a cat, go there....

If you had or have a special animal friend in your life, how did you find them?

The Little Bookstore of Big Stone Gap @bookstorewendy

 LUCY BURDETTE: I swear today's guest lives in a cozy mystery. She owns a bookstore in a small town, with a cafe on top, and tons of cats. She's married to a Scotsman and they sing, they crochet, they find homes for strays...I don't know how I came across her blog, but now I read it every day. Welcome Wendy Welch! Errr, wait a minute, I believe there's been a last-second substitution...

Today’s guest blog is brought to you by Hadley Marie Hemingway, staff cat at The Little Bookstore of Big Stone Gap. Hadley is a special needs kitten, oxygen deprivation at birth having taken a few brain cells away. But she’ll tell you about herself and her home in her own words. Take it away, Hadders…..

Hi – I’m Hadley, and I own a bookstore. It’s called Tales of the Lonesome Pine, but a lot of people know it as The Little Bookstore of Big Stone Gap ‘cause Mom wrote a book about it. She wrote the book before I came to live there, so it can’t be all that interesting, but still, lotsa people come to the shop. Dad says they come ‘cause of Mom’s book, an’ ‘cause they like to read, but I know they’re really comin’ to see me.

 



That’s me as a baby. Mom and Dad took me an’ my three sisters in on Halloween Night ‘cause they were worried. They said sometimes bad things happen to kittens at Halloween. They run a foster care for cats outta the bookstore. My sisters all found homes, but Mom said I would stay here. She says I’m a few French fries short of a Happy Meal. I don’t really know what that means, ‘cause to me all meals are happy and I never ate a French fry before. I like wet cat food best, but I like spinach, too. When Mom eats it, I steal leaves from her plate. She says nobody else would have me, so I hafta stay here.

That’s Mom’s book in a coupla different languages, but they all look the same to me, ‘cause I can’t read anyway.
Not that I mind. The bookstore is a fun place. They do lotsa special events all year long. You can look in that Book of Faces if you want to see some of the things they do—and more pictures of me. 
Sometimes we get to do stuff at the special events, and Mom says that’s ‘cause I’m special.

There’s other cats here, some of ‘em waitin’ to get droppted like my sisters did. But a few of ‘em live here like I do. Nike is the cat I like best, ‘cause she taught me to use the litter box an’ keep myself clean, an’ she tells great bedtime stories. 

There’s a nice lady here, Aunt Kelley, that smells like bacon. She runs the Second Story Café upstairs. We’re not allowed up there, us cats. All day long, people go up there an’ come down smellin’ like chicken or cream. It’s really tantalizing – an’ it took me a long time to learn that word. Sometimes after all the people have gone, when Aunt Kelley is leaving for the day, she cuddles me an’ slips me little pieces of stuff. That’s how I know heaven is above us; that’s where all the good things comes from.

You should come visit me—an’ the Café an’ bookstore, of course. I like visitors who rub my belly. Come see us! I’ll put the light on for you. I’m good at that. It’s one of my jobs. I’m the only one who can do it, ‘cause I’m special.


If you wanna see a funny video about the bookstore, you can go to You Too and put in LITTLE BOOKSTORE. My friend Owen – he’s another cat that works here – dances in that one.

Owen’s fun, but I know you really wanna read more about me, an’ maybe Nike, so you can do that on Mom’s bog. She owns a bog. If you goggle WENDY WELCH (‘cause that’s my mom’s name, see) an’ LITTLE BOOKSTORE it comes right up. An’ there’s lotsa wantsa rub my belly. You have a good day too!

LUCY again: Either Hadley or Wendy will be stopping by to say hello and answer questions...we know you've got them!