New Kitty

I have a new kitty.

First, before I introduce her, I must share the sad news that my best feline friend, Dance, passed away last month. Dance, and her sister, Tease, were exceptionally special kitties, as you can tell if you read the bio on my website. I will be leaving the bio up, in honor of them (after all they took all that trouble to write it). And if you read the dedication at the beginning of Exile when it comes out, you will see that they were vital to the completion of that story, of which we are all very proud.

But today, I would like to introduce you to Charlotte.

I just met Charlotte last Tuesday. She arrived at my house around 4:30 p.m. and promptly decided that underneath the desk was a rather appropriate place for an author kitty to hide (beside several boxes of my books, school author visit brochures, Academy 7 postcards, and an all but empty box of Exile arcs). We discussed the fact that I could not pet her under the desk, and she scooted next to the outer edge to say that, “Yes, I could.”

We have progressed from there. Here is what I have learned about Charlotte since then . . .

-Her name is Charlotte. The people at the Home at Last Humane Society in the Dalles were under the impression it was Cappuccino, but this was incorrect, and we have agreed that Charlotte is her true name. She is a lovely grey and peachy kitty with short fur and a long tail.

-She can open drawers. In fact she is exceptionally fond of opening drawers that roll, and she finds bathroom drawers with funky objects in them far more exciting than kitchen drawers with towels.

-She can also bang cupboards. (She can open and climb in them too, but she prefers just to bang the doors).

-She can, in fact, use a scratching post, though she prefers knocking it down. (She and Tease have this in common).

-She is missing the tip of her right ear. This I think gives her an air of mystery and intrigues me about what will happen when I permit her into the wide world for her first expedition outdoors.

-She does not like being “scooped;” however, she is considering altering her opinion upon this point in exchange for the following:

-Feathered toys are the way to her heart.

-She also approves of plastic balls that jingle and balls of green yarn.

-But feathered toys . . .

-Feather toys make her amenable to sleeping on the back of the couch, my fuzzy blanket, and the bed.

I think we will be investing in quite a few.