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Three Books That I'm Not In

Three Books That I’m Not In

The Year of The Cat

Imagine my surprise, returning from a deep underground mission, to this headline at the bottom of my litter box:

Year of the Cat

Horgan had run out of scoopable clay again and replaced it with his backlog of New York Times Fashion & Style pages.

The box was reasonably clean. I sat, and read.

How could he have failed to let me know? 2013 was my year, and it’s almost over!

According to the article, the year warrants the label because not only are there 86 million cats in American households, but more importantly, Monopoly has a “silver pussycat” token, reality “Cat TV” shows are popping up, and even Grumpy Cat has his own book (I could be that famous, if I weren’t so cheerful). Plus, three other cat books have been published.

Bah. One was about an adorable cat who ran away, and came back. I do that all the time. I actually nabbed a Russian spy once while I was at it. All I got rewarded with was a bowl of warm milk and loads of paperwork.

After I finished reading the article, you can guess what I did next.

(But Lester McMuffin, curse his betraying soul, went straight to


Horgan’s training us for a new mission. It’s top secret. But his butcher shop was broken into again, and he says it’s cheaper to train cats as guards than buy a better security system. Plus, he says it’s time to start earning our keep. I think it’s an abuse of our nocturnal tendencies. Lester says it’s an opportunity to hone our skills. Pfizz says we’ll be bringing home the bacon for real.

It wouldn’t be so bad if he’d let us have Internet access.

That’s why I’m opening up the On-line Home for Cats of Mystery and Adventure to Guest Bloggers this month. We’ll hear from members of Santa’ Claws, retired agents, and anyone else who has a tale of Mystery or Adventure to share. If you are a four-footed Adventurer of the feline variety with a flare for storytelling, send a picture and your story to

Look for our first entry on Tuesday, August 13!

My Family Tree

There’s a new member of the British royal family, I’ve been told. Naturally, this is of great interest to all cats, who share a bloodline with royalty through their generations-old link to Cleopatra. (Yes, your cat has a right to look at you that way. She really is better than you.)

Lester says Cleopatra has no current claim to the British throne. Bah. I was adopted, so I have the luxury of making up my family tree. For all those without the shackles of a known bloodline, I encourage you to do the same.

As a footnote, James Bond the spy really was named after James Bond the ornithologist. I am proud to be related to both.


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