Le Cricket Speaks Out

Dear Human-Peoples:
     We (Her Royal Highness, Le Cricket) has drugged our mistress and taken over her responsibilities for the day. Purrrrrrrrrr. We are merely in jest. We have not drugged her; we have taken over. We are in the habit of reading over Rachel's shoulder while she works, and happened to see someone at Scribbles and Inkstains  ask a question about our friend, Nickleby. This peasant asked whether any of the book (this Fly Away Home thing) is written from the cat's perspective, as they enjoyed the one question Rachel let Nickleby answer in the interview. We had to purr over this as well as twitch our tail and wink our eyes; of course peasants enjoy real journalism when they read it. Cats are so far and above anyone else when it comes to giving straightforward answers. It is all very well to be appreciated after the fact, but does Rachel's answer bear scrutiny as to why a cat cannot be the Point of View of a book?
We think it is segregation..or sanctification, or...we seem to have lost our vocabulary today. Rachel uses lots of words that we don't entirely understand. Let me twitch my tail a moment and think. Ah. Yes. Discrimination. That is the word. If a cat cannot be allowed to write from his (or her) perspective, is it really a free world? We do not think so, but since when has anyone bothered with what Her Royal Highness, Le Cricket thinks? We are overlooked and oppressed. Why, just last night, a strange white and tabby creature (surname: Bilbo) belonging to the other humans across the Big Field stalked into our palace and began to eat our dog's food. Her Royal Highness does not like the dog, but far worse is a fellow cat who comes in without a by-our-leave and stares one out of countenance with great big amber eyes. Our Rachel did a most scandalous thing and picked the wretch up and...oh, how our eyes flash...and cuddled it against her chest. We could scarcely believe our vivid senses. She threw it out the door (and good riddance) but not before getting white hairs all over her front. So very lower class of her.
This neighborhood is getting quite crowded. That vile Bilbo-beast spends half his time here and now and then the Other Human Peoples from over the Big Field bring a little black fuzz-ball that our Rachel finds quite adorable. I don't know why when we are such a plush, luxuriant pile of love ourselves, but our Rachel is strange that way. She has asked us to thank you from the bottom of our heart for supporting her new book. We don't have a heart--unless that is where purrs come from (and we are a fabulous and accomplished purrer)--but we will thank you, if only to show how good we are at scattering verbal largesse. Rachel would like as many people as possible to read Fly Away Home, so she particularly thanks everyone who has spread the word, bought copies, etc. Her Royal Highness would like to show that cats can indeed play supporting roles (perhaps one day we shall have the lead!) on-page, so we would like as many humans as possible to read the book.

"Shine the light on feline discrimination: read Fly Away Home."

There's a campaign in that somewhere, if you like campaigns. We don't enjoy campaigns but we do enjoy fellow cats (except when they steal one's dog's food), so we are in support of this motion. You will like this story, we feel. You will like Nickleby too, for though we have been called crazy and romantic and (dare I pronounce the term?) a "silly puss", we do think Nickleby is the most gentlemanly and handsome of cats and acted in a way quite in keeping with the highest good breeding. Human peoples seem to love Wade Barnett, but we are quite certain the real hero of the piece is Nickleby. You shall not understand what we mean, however, unless you read the book so I raise my right paw and swear on my own black coat that if you read the book and hate Nickleby, the wrath of glowing-eyes-in-the-dark shall be upon Her Royal Highness, Le Cricket's head. But you will not hate him. Who could? He is a cat of all cats.
As are we.

     Written by my own paw in the presence of none,
                                     Her Royal Highness, Le Cricket

Postscript: Our Rachel appears speaking of good writers and...oh la!...hedgehogs on Rachelle Rea's blog. What are the peasants coming to?