I love cats. I love cats almost more than anything. I am a Cat Lady and proud (except I have no cats because I am allergic to fur, it’s the saddest story I have ever heard, and told!).
I love cats so much, that when a neighbouring cat took an interest in me and started visiting (oddly, around meal times), I put up with the sniffles and itches. And this neighbouring moggy inspired me to write a short story for my publisher, Jupiter Gardens. The story is called Purrsuasion, about two neighbours who realise they just might be purrfect for each other thanks to an underwear stealing cat!
More about that later. Now, I’m unsure if Jeffrey, the cat in my short story, shall ever be famous, but just in case that ever happens, here’s a list of famous cats he might well be competing with:
(image credit: www.dailymail.co.uk)
This street cat is credited with saving street musician James Bowen’s life in his book A Street Cat Named Bob and the sequel, The World According to Bob.
The book is an adorable read, and shows how caring for Bob helped James get through a horrible time in his life, and eventually led to him making a name for himself as a novelist. James is a great narrator, but of course Bob is the star of the show.
I couldn’t leave out the famous Grumpy Cat (real name Tardar Sauce). All you have to do is open an internet browser these days to see either the GC himself or a plushie or cartoon of him. I’m sure in real life, he’s not too grumpy at all, although his face certainly seems to say otherwise! (image credit: www.wsj.com)
Oscar has the rather dubious honour of being famous for being able to predict when someone will die in his home, a nursing centre on Rhode Island. According to Wikipedia, Oscar has been correct 25 times when visiting someone directly before their death. (image credit: www.agirlnamedbeebo.com)
Creme Puff was the world’s oldest cat (to date) who lived in 38 years and 3 days! Wow. She must have done a lot of purring in her life, I hope. She was entered into the Guinness Book of World Records.
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed your brief meeting with five famous cats. Here’s the cat which inspired my short story, and who’s famous, in my house anyway, Jeffrey. He died in May this year. Rest in Peace, my furry friend.
Excerpt from Purrsuasion:
Aaron rapped on the back door of Constance’s house. A wonderful smell emanated from inside. In the strip of soil by the big back patio windows, she’d grown petunias and dahlias. The cheerful flowers swayed lightly in the gentle breeze, as if saying hello. The flowers suited her, he thought.
He heard her call “it’s open!” and turned the handle. He didn’t know what he had expected to see, but the scene that greeted him wasn’t it.
Cleaned cake tins and loaf tins were stacked on the wooden drying rack. Cookbooks were open all along the kitchen counter. Something rotated slowly in the microwave, the same something that had wafted from the window while he’d been outside.
And Constance, her hair all a-tumble over her face, sat cross legged on the floor, a cook book in her hands, and Jeffrey curled up in her lap, purring loudly.
“Hi,” she said, her eyes caught somewhere between hope and despair.
Aaron looked pointedly at the cat. “Well, that answers one of my questions. What’s the matter? I found your note.”
Constance set the book down and tried to move the cat off her lap. Jeffrey clung as she stood, dragging on her cloth apron and highlighting the way her generous breasts pressed snugly against her shirt. Aaron knew they’d fill his hands, and he itched to touch her, his mind flitting back to his brief fantasy of licking chocolate off the petals of her sex. Would she whisper his name in breathy moans or cry out loudly as she came?
Constance looked at him with narrowed eyes and Aaron knew he had totally missed whatever she’d said. “I answered your question.”
“Sorry.” He drew his mind out of the gutter and into reality. “I was somewhere else. What happened?”
“My oven’s broken. It’s electric,” she explained, struggling to hold the squirming, meowing cat, who seemed to want to climb into her hair. “Something just… went, and I wasn’t sure what to do. You were the first person I thought of.”
Aaron’s chest swelled with pride. “No problem.” He set his toolbox down. “What are you making? It smells fantastic.”
“My niece’s birthday cake. And I have a dozen other cakes to make – no weddings thankfully, but still, I can’t afford for my oven to be out of commission,” she panicked.
Taking in her tumbled hair, wide sad eyes, and the bundle of feline in her arms, there was no way in hell Aaron could resist being the hero. “Use my kitchen.” He dug in his pocket and held out the keys.
Finally getting the hint, Jeffrey leapt down from his precarious position half on Constance’s shoulder and half in her apron, and meowed very loudly to convey his unhappiness.
“Really?” She took the keys, her eyes lighting with relief. “And I’ll pay you to fix my oven, if you can, of course.”
His gaze levelled on hers. “Nah. I only want payment in cake. If that’s all right with you.”
“That’s perfect. Thank you, Aaron.” She leaned up to kiss his cheek as a thank you, but at that moment, Jeffrey wound between her legs, stripping her, and she fell into Aaron, her angle off now, and her lips met his, rather than his cheek.
She tasted of chocolate, sending his fantasies into overdrive.
If you’d like to read more, you can buy Love, Meow from the following vendors:
Jasmine has been making up stories as long as she can remember! She’s now delighted that people would like to read about the men, women, and magical creatures running amok in her head.
You can contact Jasmine at www.jasmineaherne.com or on Twitter on @jasmine_aherne