Oops. The cat's outta the bag.

It is a maxim with me--or pra'aps a mixim (or pra'aps both)--that a writer must have a cat. I'm sorry, but the two go together. Your desk is not complete unless you have a cat draped behind the computer monitor, or in your lap, or across your neck. Honestly! I do not think it is going too far to think that genius and cats are not entirely unrelated. Besides--cats are the ideal complaining-to companions. They would complain to you if they could speak English, so they don't mind you complaining to them. Whether they listen or not is unclassified information. We aren't told, as the Bible has absolutely nothing to say about cats, far as I can tell. In Fly Away Home, Calida Harper's cat, Nickleby, is definitely a main side-character. We first meet him here:

Nickleby wound himself in and out and around my feet. I waded through him feeling that he must be at least six creatures instead of a single portly one, and slung my purse, hat, and shoes onto the worn sofa. “It’s happened Nickleby—I’ve got a chance to make it big in the glossies.” I picked my cat up and buried my nose in his soft black fur.

It is, perhaps, telling that Nickleby figures so largely in the plot. Callie cannot think through a thing without discussing it with Nickleby. He gives her advice. He makes pert comments. Honestly, now. I'm not making this up. Just try it. You can understand a cat if you take the time to listen to what all those blinks and mews and tail-tossing means.

All of this is simply to say, I thought it time I introduced you to the cats hereabouts, including pictures. Ready? Oui? Okay.

Cricket

You have met her in a previous post, but I cannot say enough. She was chosen as a gift for my fifteenth birthday after Dad finally succumbed to 13 years' begging. In her dotage, she has turned to playing "Bagheera" all day long and sneaking out nights, only to come back chilled to the bone. I think it's her strong Siamese strain that gives her this wanderlust. She's very proper, but is not against being held upside down, or playing Mink Stole on occasion. This is convenient for me in the wintertime. I am fairly certain that if Cricket was a person, she'd look rather like this:

...only a wee bit baggy around the waist, courtesy of over-much lounging about in between playing "Bagheera." She is fond of cheese. And cold P.G. Tips tea with cream and sugar. I do not jest. 

Our cousins over the field made me mortally jealous by adopting two kittens and leaving a third that I could not have, though I would have named her Spitfire. Please don't get me started. I wanted that kitten and to have to leave her at the farm with the name Betsy for the rest of her life gave me a headache.

Moving on.

These are a few of the cousins, and these are the two Gorgeous Ones.

Buttons is the girl, and rather feisty. And oh so befluffed and befurred.

And Todd. The laid back Sir-Percy-esque one. 

*le sigh* Aren't they adorable?

The newbies on the block are absolutely kissable, and though there appears to be a total dearth of writers in the household just yet, their Aunt Rachel will certainly come to borrow them on occasion. They are so terribly fluffy. I have yet to learn their total personalities, as I don't see them as often as I'd like. Still. Where there are kittens there are stories, so I'm sure I'll be able to give you a good report or two come a couple months from now.

In other news, I am going to have a Big Surprise for you all later on this week, so please stay tuned! Also, please return in the next few days to vote on the Re-Christening of Fly Away Home poll which I'll have up shortly!