Oswald

I see you everyday sleeping your life away

Losing time again, can’t convince you to stay

Your legs are so weak you can’t stand up

Is this your way of saying you’ve had enough?

I’ll miss you dearly on the day that you pass

I’ll miss your chubby belly, so much mass

I’ll miss you rolling over on your back

I’ll miss you munching on a chicken snack

Miss your precious face, expressions so sweet

Miss your pretty eyes, close them as you sleep

The Rainbow Bridge is waiting for you

Make lots of friends for me, old and new

I hope your life was one worth living

My love for you was well worth giving

One of these days, we’ll cross paths again

Even in death, you’ll be my sweetest friend

Until next time, my Buddha-bellied feline

Until next time, my little oinking swine

Soon you will be free of your elderly pain

You’ll be missed so much, our eyes will rain

Losing fuzzy friends never gets easier

Reincarnate one day into someone beefier

Captain Marvel

MOVIE TITLE: Captain Marvel

DIRECTORS: Anna Boden and Ryan Fleck

YEAR: 2019

GENRE: Superhero Science-Fiction

RATING: PG-13 for violence and language

GRADE: Pass

In the year 1995, the technologically superior Kree civilization is in a never-ending war with shape-shifting aliens known as Skrulls. When amnesic warrior Vers and her squadron of Kree soldiers botch a mission to rescue an undercover agent, she finds herself trapped on planet earth with familiar clues to her past. The more she investigates, the more suspicious she becomes of her own Kree brethren. Political conspiracies are unraveled to where Vers doesn’t even know who to trust anymore. Whatever it is she finds, she’ll have to prepare for the fight of her life, part of which includes wrestling with her emotions in the heat of battle.

I must confess, when I saw the first few minutes of this movie, I thought it was going to be another cut-and-paste superhero movie. But the thing with Marvel movies is that they always surprise you just when you think you’re comfortable with the formula. Sure, we get witty banter from the likes of Vers and Shield Agent Nick Fury. We also get the obligatory big fight feel with the future at stake. We also get a well-crafted conspiracy that gains new wrinkles throughout the movie. But what drives all of these fun parts home are characters we can actually care about instead of just being told to cheer because they’re superheroes. I cared about Vers’s lost memories. I cared about her friends. I even cared about the villains because of how cold and callous they were. This is a character-driven story about non-conformity; how can the audience go wrong?

Speaking of characters I care deeply about, how about the precious orange kitty Goose? Who’s a good kitty? Goose is a good kitty! He rubs his head against everyone, he purrs like a lawnmower, he floats through the air in zero gravity conditions, and he even has a little twist in his character near the end. I won’t say what the twist is, but when you get there, not only will it give you a good chuckle, but you’ll want to cheer for Goose even more. I wouldn’t mind having a kitty like him sleep next to me at night, semi-frightening twist aside. I would call him George and love him and pet him and hug him and squeeze him! If an animal can make me quote the Abominable Snowman from Looney Tunes lore, then it must be a special little critter.

And because this movie is set in 1995, there’s always that nostalgia trip down memory lane. Remember when Blockbuster Video was still a thing? How about Street Fighter II arcade cabinets? How about dial-up internet that took forever to load? Even if you’re not old enough to remember those things, you’ll still get a kick out of the 90’s soundtrack the filmmakers put together. “Come As You Are” by Nirvana and “I’m Just a Girl” by No Doubt were well-placed in their respective scenes, which is what all good soundtracks should aspire to be. If nothing else, you’ll get a good chuckle at all of these nostalgic references. They’re funny because Blockbuster doesn’t exist anymore. Laughing is the only thing you can do to keep from sobbing at your lost childhood.

Captain Marvel is certainly an enjoyable movie for more reasons than just the obligatory violence and witty dialogue. If female audience members want a role model to look up to, they’ve got Vers. If conspiracy theorists and mystery buffs want to piece together this puzzle that is the main story, have at it. If you have a prejudice against superhero movies because of how “low-class” they are (I’m looking at you, Bill Maher), then Captain Marvel will prove you wrong. A passing grade is what this movie gets.

Staying In Bed

To hell with being dutiful

Staying in bed is beautiful

A purring kitty on my chest

He agrees that it’s time to rest

Piano music calms me down

Hypnotized by the gentle sound

Cold breeze blowing outside

Under the blankets is where I hide

Back to work on another day

Couldn’t motivate myself anyway

Stare at the ceiling, think about life

Share my bed with an imaginary wife

Watch movies playing in my head

They don’t make a lick of sense

Heater blasting on a winter night

Makes resisting sleep an uphill fight

But I can’t stay here forever and ever

Despite the drop in barometric pressure

Another day waits on the other side

That way you can’t say I never tried

Still walking around like the undead

Not a whole lot going on in my head

A few more hours until it gets dark

Until rainwater floods the public park

Until the moon shines down upon us all

Until face down on the bed is where I fall

Disconnect my telephone line

Tomorrow everything will be just fine

Like it is almost every damn day

No sense in asking me if I’m okay

"Where's My Kitty?" by Ashley Uzzell

BOOK TITLE: Where’s My Kitty?

AUTHOR: Ashley Uzzell

YEAR: 2016

GENRE: Fiction

SUBGENRE: Children

GRADE: Pass

Little Kassidy is playing outside and would love to have a furry friend to share her adventures. But she keeps asking, “Where’s my kitty?” She looks in all of the usual places from the forest to the bathtub to even his favorite spot on the living room couch. Where could the little munchkin be?

Because this book is short by nature, this review will also be a brief one. First of all, I’ll just say…aww! Actually, you’re going to be saying that throughout this reading adventure. The pictures of little Spunky (the cat) are adorable and it’s easy to see why Kassidy would want to snuggle and play with the fur baby sweetheart. Not only does she want to know, “Where’s my kitty?”, but you’ll want to know too. You’ll wish you could give the fuzzy rug-rat pettings behind the ear and across his back. You’ll wish you could hear his purr motor revving in your ear. You’ll wish you could see the look on Kassidy’s cheerful baby face when she finds him. I’d warn you about that spoiler, but you saw it coming from miles away. This is an all-around cute book and that’s what you should expect when you pick up a copy.

Although the book was published in 2016, it was written when the real-life Kassidy was just a toddler. Since then, Spunky has passed to the Rainbow Bridge and Kassidy has won her battle with childhood leukemia. This book, as short as it may be, is a wonderful tribute to a wonderful love between child and kitty. Spunky is purring from beyond the grave, which is why I’m giving this book a passing grade. You’ve done your daughter proud, Ms. Uzzell!

Italian Stallion

Let’s bookend this crazy twenty-eighteen

With the cutest fuzz ball you’ve ever seen

The sweetest old man to walk the earth

The reason for my happiness and rebirth

His name is Emilio, the Italian Stallion

Bouncy like Tigger, sleepy like Valium

His interests include cuddling and snuggling

Whether I’m happy with life or struggling

The year before, three fur babies passed

I never thought it could happen so fast

Maggie the saggy-jowled Springer Spaniel

Watching her die was more than I could handle

Sitka was a kitty called the Queen of Halloween

Now her spiritual essence will forever fly free

Smokey loved to sleep on my comfy bed

Now she permanently rests her fuzzy head

While nobody could replace these beautiful souls

Somebody had to patch up my heart full of holes

Emilio the sweetie pie would come to my aid

Though at first he was timid, lonely, and afraid

It took some pettings and cradles in my arms

No longer would he come into danger or harm

Safe from the streets, cozy under my roof

Love is very real and Emilio is living proof

May he spend his days happy and relaxed

To a homeless life, he’ll never ever go back

Welcome to my home, welcome to my bed

Feel free to rest your fluffy old kitty head

2019

My intentions for the brand new year

Have never been so crystalline clear

Drop a hundred pounds as I walk this town

While listening to favorite heavy metal sounds

Publish a new book full of action and drama

Edit that bitch down to the very last comma

Find a girl who loves me for my soul

Who’ll pull me out of my blackest hole

Read more books and clear my shelves

I’ll review them all, but read for yourselves

Learn how to drive some clunky machinery

Eat less junk food and eat more greenery

See Tarja Turunen perform at a show

Even if the destination is one I don’t know

Buy a T-shirt that says Ego Kills Talent

Vote for justice on the November ballot

Glide my fingers across the piano again

Play some funky music that never ends

Be the best kitty father I can possibly be

Emilio the snuggle buddy sleeping with me

Write more often while being wide awake

Write every day if that’s what it takes

If these dreams and goals sound unrealistic

You’re obviously part of this division

You might as well stand right in my path

Can’t guarantee your safety in the aftermath

You say I can’t do it, I tell you to screw it

You’ve got too much attitude; lose it

This year is mine to grab by the horns

This life is mine, it shall never be torn

Ozzy

***OZZY***

As someone who was born in the mid-1980’s, I’m chronologically predisposed to sharing details of my life on the internet, especially if they’re going to have even the slightest impact on my creative activities. I don’t expect that this incident will, but it is something to think about for all the times I’ve been too exhausted to work.

Our gray and white kitty Ozzy has a nasty abscess on the side of his face and yesterday it burst open and sprayed blood all over Mom and Dale’s sheets. We don’t know how he got this gash, but we suspect he’s been in a fight with another animal. He loves to go on little adventures outside for long periods of time, so it was bound to happen sooner or later. Mom and Dale are currently vacationing in New Mexico and won’t be back until Thursday night, so it was up to me and James to take care of Ozzy-Pie.

We had the elderly cutie-kitty taken to a 24-hour emergency animal hospital in Silverdale. He cried the entire drive over and we couldn’t blame him. Going to the hospital is no fun for an animal, especially if draining abscesses is on the agenda. The good news is, the doctors were able to clear it out and disinfect it without much incident. The rest is up to me and James.

Ozzy will have to have his wound wiped out regularly, he’ll have to take antibiotic pills covered in Spam, and he’ll have to have liquid painkillers injected into his mouth. So far, so good. He likes the Spam and wasn’t too resistant to the pills or the water that had to be injected afterwards. I haven’t given him his painkillers yet, but I trust that’ll go smoothly too. The treatment will last for a whole week, but I think we’re going to make him a permanent indoor kitty from now on, lest he gets attacked again.

Being a good animal parent to Ozzy and the rest of our fur babies is more important to me right now than getting creative work done. I was frantic the whole time I was preparing to give him his medicine, because I thought it was going to be harder than it needed to be. Turns out it was painless. Just seven more days and he’ll have to go back to the vet for a follow-up. I can do this. Ozzy will get better. I know he will!

If you want to leave your well wishes for our elderly kitty baby, you can do so in the comments section. Even though he’s not capable of checking internet posts, I’m sure he’ll appreciate it. I’m Garrison Kelly! Even when you feel like dying, keep climbing the mountain!

Don't Wake the Baby

VERSE 1

Dreaming of scratches behind her ears

Sleeping on my bed for the rest of her years

Such a sweet little fuzzy lady

Shh! Don’t wake the baby!

VERSE 2

Dreaming of a buffet table of tuna fish

A quart of milk in her favorite dish

Is this reality? Well, just maybe

Shh! Don’t wake the baby!

VERSE 3

Dreaming of gentle warmth from the heater

Drooling like a fountain, her dreams get sweeter

A kitty kiss on the cheek is what she gave me

Shh! Don’t wake the baby!

FINAL VERSE

Waking up to a brand new day

Only to fall asleep again anyways

She needs every hour of beauty rest

Her forever home is truly the best

She gives me the biggest goofy grin

Every time I scratch her under the chin

She purrs like the sweetest kitty lady

Shh! Don’t wake the baby!

"Dog Man: A Tale of Two Kitties" by Dav Pilkey

BOOK TITLE: Dog Man: A Tale of Two Kitties

AUTHOR: Dav Pilkey

YEAR: 2017

GENRE: Graphic Novel

SUBGENRE: Children’s Adventure

GRADE: Pass

An anthropomorphic dog cop aptly named Dog Man has been assigned to protect a laboratory housing a psychomantic fish, who was rebuilt using mechanical parts so that the scientists could sufficiently study his brain. Elsewhere in the city, another scientific experiment takes place as escaped convict Petey the Kitty creates a miniature clone of himself and struggles to raise it like a real kid. Soon the two stories hit a crossroads in a cutely written adventure involving buildings coming to life, a mechanical cat suit capable of superhuman feats, and a gigantic truck full of French salad dressing. It’s a silly story, but one worth enjoying.

While it is true that this graphic novel was intended for small children, you can also enjoy it if you’re an avid pet lover like me. The Petey clone’s innocent antics, Dog Man’s cheerful nature, and even the minor role characters bring out the warm and fuzzy feelings you’d expect from animal literature. My favorite cute moments from the book include putting Lil’ Petey to bed, giving him a bath, and Dog Man bouncing all over the police chief like a real dog. You know what? Why don’t we just give the entire cast of this graphic novel one big cuddle-huggle. Good or evil, they’ve all earned a special place in my heart for the sweetness they bring!

As happy-go-lucky as this book is, it’s not without the occasional sad moment. I can pinpoint three different parts of this book that strike me as heartbreaking: Dog Man’s sad expressions when the police chief tells him he’s a “bad dog”, Petey becoming frustrated with his “kid” and leaving him in a box alone on the streets, and Lil’ Petey drawing picture books for his special friends. Don’t be too turned off by these tear-jerking scenes, because they’ll easily renew your love for animals everywhere. If you’ve got a little kitty or puppy at home, give him or her extra cuddles and pettings to show them how much you care.

Enough with the tears of sadness. How about some tears of happiness for a change? The mechanical cat suit Petey builds for his son is called the 80 Hexatron Droid. If you shorten that name to an acronym, it’s called 80-HD. Say that ten times fast and clap your hands like an audience at a golf tournament. Oh, and one of the buildings that comes to life? It’s an oatmeal factory called Holland Oats. Kids today might not understand that reference, but an older member of their family will. The jokes and puns in this story won’t make you hee-haw with laughter, but they’ll bring the world’s goofiest grin to your face.

If you like cute and cuddly stories with happy endings and golf clap humor, buy a copy of this graphic novel. Whether you have children of your own, you are a child, or you’re just a guy who loves sweetness, you’ll love what the pages have to offer. Don’t let anybody tell you you’re too old for this kind of material. What matters most is what you love, not what anybody else’s standards dictate. I love this story and that’s why it deserves a passing grade.

"The Cat Who Robbed a Bank" by Lilian Jackson Braun

BOOK TITLE: The Cat Who Robbed a Bank

AUTHOR: Lilian Jackson Braun

YEAR: 2000

GENRE: Fiction

SUBGENRE: Cozy Mystery

GRADE: Pass

Jim “Q” Qwilleran and his Siamese kitties Koko and Yum Yum are thrust into another mystery when a jewelry dealer winds up dead in a hotel room and the salesman’s assistant as well as a local Highland Games athlete go missing shortly after. Koko, being the psychic kitty he is, drops little hints in front of Q that could be mistaken for hyperactive playing. The closer Q gets to solving this case, the more he realizes that Koko really is a genius and that even the strangest clues can pan out from time to time.

I’ve been a reader of Lilian Jackson Braun’s “Cat Who” books since the early 2010’s. Every time I read one of these novels, the tropes she relies on become more and more apparent. The small town atmosphere, local gossiping, and constant lunch and dinner dates are just small examples. Others include the G-rated way in which the dead meet their fates, the townsfolk’s love of ancient literature, the typical elderly hobbies such as silhouette cutting and wood turning, and the relaxed sense of urgency when these mysteries move along. I believe it’s safe to say that if you’ve read one Cat Who book, you’ve read them all.

And yet I keep going back to them because of their relaxing nature and light reading material. This is especially comforting whenever it’s raining or otherwise cold outside. Just snuggle up with your favorite kitty and wrap yourself in a blanket for a nice afternoon or evening of easy reading. Notice how I’m using themes of comfort and relaxation with these books rather than boredom. You can be chilled out and still have lots of fun reading whatever it is you’re reading. Think of it as being like getting a chair massage with new age music playing in the background. After you’ve had your low-key fun for the day, snuggle in bed and take a nice long nap with the rain tapping on your window.

If you want to read something nice and pleasant with a double dose of feline sweetness, look no further than “The Cat Who Robbed a Bank”, or any other Cat Who book for that matter. Ms. Braun has left behind a legacy of lovability with this series alone. Yes, she had a nagging tendency to tell instead of show, but if you’re patient, it won’t matter after you’ve delved far enough into the easy-paced mystery. Easy on the eyes, easy on the soul, easy on your warm toasty kitty-loving heart. A passing grade not only for this particular book, but for the series as a whole.

"Spunky and the Dolphin Palace" by Ashley Uzzell and Kyra Uzzell

BOOK TITLE: Spunky and the Dolphin Palace

AUTHORS: Ashley Uzzell and Kyra Uzzell

YEAR: 2017

GENRE: Fiction

SUBGENRE: Children’s Animal Fantasy

GRADE: Pass

In the second installment of the Spunky the Cat series, our furry hero finds himself in another strange land far away from home. Everything is made from candy from the syrup oceans to the gumdrop roads to even the various creatures that live there like the licorice snake and the soda bubblegum bear. As delicious as this world appears to be, Spunky is homesick for his human wizard master. He ventures down the syrupy river on his way to the Dolphin Palace, where he hopes the elderly princess can help him find his way home.

The biggest reason for my passing grade is the infinite cuteness overload that flies off the pages, whether it’s within the text or the drawings by Ashley’s daughter Kyra. From the very first page, Spunky (who’s already a cute little stud muffin purr baby) is thrust into a world made entirely of candy and inhabited by equally sweet creatures. In the words of the abominable snowman from the Looney Tunes canon, I want to hug them and squeeze them and call them George! As someone who currently owns seven cats and two dogs, I get my cuteness overloads wherever I can and this book has provided me with those warm fuzzy feelings and more.

I loved the cuteness factor so much that I wanted to see the story completed beyond the “To Be Continued” disclaimer at the end. There’s an evil killer whale named Viktor that needs to be brought to justice and mermaids that need to help in that G-rated struggle. Everybody wants to see Spunky work his fluffy magic against the forces of darkness. In short, my only critique is that the story ended too soon. On the bright side, though, it was adorable while it lasted and I’m eagerly looking forward to the next installment. Hugs and kisses for Spunky-Monkey and his new friends!

Whether you have children of your own or you’re an adult who loves fuzzy emotions, this second installment is for you, my friend. And while you’re at it, pick up a copy of the first installment as well. Get under the covers of your softest blanket and read to your heart’s content. You may find that your purr engine is just as lawnmower-like as our kitty hero’s. Excellent work, Ashley and Kyra! Lots of love for both of you!

Xanax and Perrier

VERSE 1

My weirdest dreams are of school it seems

Naked in front of the students and deans

A grown adult fighting it out with teens

Doing crystal math until my eyes bleed

Dreading the day I receive my grades

Failing every class, I cannot be saved

There’s always next year, no question about

It’s hard to speak up when my teeth fall out

CHORUS

Xanax and Perrier to end my day

My oldest kitty is snoozing away

Eight hours until I feel the sun’s rays

Back to the theater, back to the craze

VERSE 2

My wildest dreams are of music and screams

Heavy metal menus in the strangest venues

Pantera tore it up in a grocery store

3DG in a lecture hall, I want more

Rammstein shot flames in a Chinese diner

Roger Waters at the Stonehenge, not bad, old-timer

Brit Floyd in a museum, not an easy feat

It’s hard to sing songs with loosening teeth

CHORUS

Xanax and Perrier to end my day

My oldest kitty is snoozing away

Eight hours until I feel the sun’s rays

Back to the theater, back to the craze

BRIDGE

Sometimes all I want is to go the fuck home

But these dreamy busses are so damn slow

The foot ferries splash as they’re about to crash

The airplanes race into outer fucking space

VERSE 3

My nerdy dreams make me want to cream

Comic book shops on every street block

Libraries with dark fantasy sweetness

My dream theater knows my favorite weakness

Seeing my notebooks being sold on the shelves

Seeing my novels being read by elves

Hearing my poems being read by pixies

My dreams come true whether it’s now or sixty

EXTENDED CHORUS

Xanax and Perrier to end my day

My oldest kitty is snoozing away

Eight hours until I feel the sun’s rays

Back to the theater, back to the craze

Every youngster has the right to dream

Every adult can set them free

Never give up, never let it die

Spread your dragon wings and fly

Congratulations, Piper!

***CONGRATULATIONS, PIPER!***

Early this morning, my cute little squeaker kitty Piper was named Cat of the Day. Sitka came before her in 2014 and the tradition continues in 2016 with Piper-Diaper. So congratulations, little Squeak, for capturing the hearts of the internet with your diva charm! You’re getting extra petting tonight! The link to Piper’s Cat of the Day nomination can both be found in my Deviant Art ID widget and in this blog entry. Go ahead: soak it all in! ^_^

http://catoftheday.com/archive/2016/March/14.html

It’s also worth a few seconds of your time to read the sweet comments from the Cat of the Day community. Everybody loves Piper-Diaper! If it seems like I’m living vicariously through the fame of my cat, it’s because I am. Then again, giving an animal a good home and a happy life is an important thing for all pet owners to do. You may have a nice, friendly Piper in your home as well who depends on you for love and petting. ^_^

***COMPUTER SITUATION UPDATE***

The new computer works great and it’s all thanks to my awesome brother James for helping me set it up and not allowing me to make the same downloading mistakes I made with the first one. There’s going to be a lot more animal pictures, dark fantasy warrior drawings, and most importantly, literature. Lots and lots of literature. I didn’t leave the internet: I took a three day vacation. Now, let’s get some work done!

***ANIMAL QUOTE OF THE DAY***

“Squeak!”

-Piper, March 14^th, 2016 Cat of the Day-

Oswald the Giant

Zack Moraga didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve to be found guilty for a murder he didn’t commit. He didn’t deserve to be locked up in the smelliest god-awful dungeon for five years. He also didn’t deserve to have his only chance at freedom come at the price of hunting a giant with little more than a jagged dagger and a measly crossbow. Who was he kidding? He couldn’t lay a giant even if he had a fiery catapult and two battering ram teams. He was all alone out there in the Dread Wight forest with two crappy weapons and a death sentence disguised as a window of opportunity.

The poor prisoner didn’t even try to track down this “Oswald the Giant”. He just sat on a tree stump in the middle of this foggy forest and sulked with his spiky-haired head in his hand. What did he really do to deserve all of this? Why was he wearing leather blue prison armor instead of a decent outfit? Didn’t anybody even remotely entertain the idea that Zack Moraga might be an innocent man? All he was at that point was a statistic. An outcast. A walking corpse. These negative thoughts caused a sigh to slip from his chapped mouth.

Finally after a few hours of moping on that tree stump with nothing but his thoughts, the ground began to shake. At first it was a gentle rumble. But then as the beast got closer, the tremors knocked Zack off of his stump and sent him into a mad dash for safety. He was barely one step ahead of the giant as it put its foot down for another violent quake. And another step. And another step. While this would be considered moseying for a giant, it was an exhausting sprint for Zack, who fell off the dirt trail and into a ditch.

The would be giant slayer laid on his back after so much exercise and breathed heavily. His ribs were sore from the cardio and his feet felt like he was walking on swords barefoot. He was done for. This is what a corrupt justice system in medieval times amounted to. For god’s sake, if the giant wanted to kill Zack, why didn’t he do it already? Get it over with! Quit letting the anxiety build up!

And then the giant laid down beside Zack on the dirt trail and rolled on his back. He let out an animalistic yawn and then a longwinded…purr? Wait a minute. Giants don’t purr. Sure enough, Zack opened his sore eyes for a few seconds and saw that the “great” and “fierce” Oswald the Giant was an oversized tiger-striped cat who purred and played like any other domestic animal would. But for now, he was sleeping.

A cat? The high courts wanted Zack Moraga to kill a giant cat? What for, exactly? Was his heavy stepping really that much of a threat to the royal kingdom? Was there a sudden shortage of fur? How about meat? Were people that starved for a good meal? Whatever the case was, the imprisoned warrior shook his head and achingly pulled himself to his feet. There wouldn’t be a better time to slay the giant than right fucking now.

Even though his body was sore, Zack managed to find the strength within his tired bones to climb up on Oswald’s belly using his fur coat. The big gut rose and fell slowly and evenly. The purrs were mixed in with the snores. This cat was definitely unconscious. But sneaking across the moving belly without disturbing him proved to be difficult work for Zack.

He tried to maintain his acrobatic equilibrium whilst tiptoeing across the beast’s stomach. Thinking this kill was already his, the hunter pulled out his crappy dagger and raised it in the air, hoping to get a good stab to the throat. He was almost there. He could feel the sweet taste of freedom. And then Zack stumbled on his ass and awakened the kitty giant, the rusty blade dropping to the ground below.

Oswald looked at the strange creature on his belly and lifted his head to try and lick him off like a flea. “Oh, dear god! Why?! What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” screamed Zack as he was getting bathed in feline saliva. The goopy fluids caused the jailbird to stick to Oswald’s tongue and be flung high in the air after the cat spit him out.

While in the air, the cat giant batted him around like a common toy with all four of his fuzzy paws. Zack Moraga continued to curse and scream since the harsh motion (along with the spittle) was making him sick to his stomach. A final wave of Oswald’s paw sent the fighter off to the side of the dirt trail into the ditch once again.

Zack hit the ground hard enough to finally trigger a storm of vomit from his already filthy mouth. After about half a minute of puking, it was pretty much just dry heaves, which went to show how poorly prisoners were fed under this justice system. How badly they were defeated was also evident when Zack laid in a puddle of his own (and Oswald’s) oral filth and didn’t care about life anymore. It was over.

“Who am I kidding?” he said to himself. “This was a setup from the start. I don’t know how to slay a giant, much less a goddamn cat. Fuck this. I’m…going…back…to sleep.” He let out an acidic yawn and started to pass out when Oswald was nudging him with his wet nose.

“Stop it, leave me alone!” said Zack weakly. “Just kill me already! It’s over! My life is over! Why are you taking so long?!” Oswald was licking him again and the saliva didn’t smell any better than it did before. “Why?! Why must you do this to me?!”

After a while of licking, Zack was clean of his vomit, but not of cat spittle, so it was a minor victory at best. Oswald then grabbed Zack by his shirt collar with his teeth and tucked him into his belly before snuggling around the suicidal warrior. Along the way, Zack heard his crossbow drop on the ground as well, but he wasn’t going to lift a pinky in order to pick it up. To be honest, Oswald’s furry cuddle was more comfortable than any straw bed in that crappy dungeon. It didn’t take long for Zack to fall asleep in the cat giant’s loving hold.

The entire night had passed over the Dread Wight Forest and still Zack’s handlers didn’t see any progress made. The two seven-foot tall knights clad in steel armor and carrying war hammers were trudging through the forest in search of their ill gotten prisoner. “I told you we couldn’t rely on that pathetic weasel to get the job done!”

“What did you expect? He’s one guy with the most basic weapons we can come up with. Do you really think he stood a chance? Besides, there really was no hope for him after all. This had death sentence written all over it.”

“So the whole thing was just one sick joke from the start?”

“Pretty much. Now where is the little bastard? I’m hungry and I don’t want to stay in this wretched forest any longer.”

The ground shook and knocked the two towering knights on their asses, yet they kept steady grips on their war hammers. Before them stood Oswald the Giant, with his teeth showing, his drool flowing, and his hisses and growls coming at intimidating paces. Even so, the two knights weren’t the least bit scared. They laughed at the kitty giant before getting up and dusting themselves off.

“Come on, you giant turd! Let’s see what you’ve got!” shouted one of the knights before that same knight felt a sharp pain going up the crack of his ass. He danced around bleeding and screaming like a little girl until he eventually lost his footing and spun out into the ditch below to die.

The other knight noticed that the source of the anal pain was a crossbow bolt, one issued only to prisoners of this “death sentence”. The steel-clad warrior looked around and saw Zack Moraga leaning against a tree with his arms folded and the smoking gun (or cocked crossbow) in his hand.

“You sick bastard!” screamed the remaining knight as he stampeded toward the unflinching Zack with his war hammer ready to strike. The seven-foot warrior felt a hard smack against his back and flew into another oak tree with explosive force. The pain was horrendous, so much so that turning his head to see who smashed him was a chore itself. It was Oswald and his giant paw, no doubt.

As soon as the knight peeled himself out of the tree, he fell over in a weakened state and was ripe for the picking. Zack waddled over to him and lifted his head before saying, “Justice is finally served!” That was the last thing the knight heard before he felt the jagged edge rip his throat to pieces, bleeding him out and suffocating him at the same time. He died instantly.

After the two handlers were disposed of, Zack threw aside his weapons and looked up at Oswald with a big smile on his face. He hadn’t smiled in such a long time and it felt good to do so. The now ex-prisoner climbed up on Oswald’s back and said, “Take me home, kitty-pie. I have a baby girl who’s dying to meet you!”

The jolly gray giant meowed and purred as he trotted across the forest, fully intending to take Zack home where he belongs.

"Spunky and the Wizard's Chair" by Ashley and Kyra Uzzell

BOOK TITLE: Spunky and the Wizard’s Chair
AUTHORS: Ashley Uzzell and Kyra Uzzell
YEAR: 2015
GENRE: Fiction
SUBGENRE: Children’s Animal Fantasy
GRADE: Pass


Spunky is an ordinary house cat who enjoys the love and attention that his wizard master brings him. One fateful day, the wizard brings home a splintered wooden chair that is believed to have magical powers. Spunky is ordered to stay away from it, but he defies the wizard and the chair takes the little fluff-pumpkin to a strange new world ruled by other cats. Spunky is scared of his new surroundings and wants to go home. But when the beautiful princess of this kitty world is abducted by dogs, little Spunky isn’t going to let it slide that easily!

One of the many things that makes this book special is the fact that it was written by a mother and her eight-year-old daughter. Alone, their imaginations are wild and colorful. Together, they can put out a polished, cute, cuddly story about magic and purr-babies. Ashley and Kyra working together as a team to make this wonderful kid’s book brings them closer together as a family. No matter what obstacles life puts in front of them, they will always have this special book to look back upon and love every minute of. Family bonding is always important to living a healthy and happy life; never underestimate the power of love.

And then there’s the obvious elephant in the room (or rather the puppies and kitties), the book’s cuteness factor. If you’re writing a book about house pets, you’d better make it as cute and sweet as humanly possible. Ashley and Kyra did just that with their descriptions of each animal character from their bushy tails to their candy-colored fur to (my personal favorite) the princess’s “bell-like voice”. I could learn a lot from this style of writing, because it’s charming without being overly sappy. Whenever I write an animal story, I use a lot of lovey-dovey language and I can see how that would be a turn-off to my readers. So thank you, Ashley and Kyra, for teaching me a valuable lesson in writing animal fantasy fiction!

This book is the very definition of what a kid’s story should have: colorful visuals, a steady reading pace, a loving plot, and not a single ounce of mature content. I enjoyed this book so much that I plan on giving it to one of my nieces as a Christmas present this year. The book is a fun read for all ages, so if I was to give it to my eleven year old niece Reina, she probably wouldn’t feel insulted by it. I have another niece named Jayla who is five years old and she would probably love this book to pieces. So many nieces, so many choices. No matter who I choose, it will be a worthy use of my money since it’s such a lovable read. I’m purring just thinking about it!

Ashley Uzzell is already an established writer under another penname and has produced some of my favorite e-books ever written. Her future is no doubt a bright one no matter how many obstacles she has to go through in life. Kyra especially has a bright future ahead of her because she’s only eight years old and has already shown that she’s capable of putting together an awesome story. If the amount of potential this writing family had could be harnessed into green energy, the world could leave its lights on until the end of time. I give this story a passing grade and I give both authors a digital hug!

Minnie-Moo

Most people went to places like Bellingham Forest to get away from their daily routines. For druid sorcerer Derrick Mango, the forest WAS his daily routine. He had his own log cabin in the darkest part of the woods where nobody could disturb his introverted microcosm. If they did, those people were met with scorn and violence. Derrick valued his privacy more than anything else in this world. One bright May morning, his privacy would be violated in the most savage way.

The sun shone brightly through the cracks of each individual log that made up Derrick Mango’s cabin. Not one single beam of light was enough to stir him from his slumber, which he could be found wearing little more than bearskin boots, wolf skin pants, and a rabbit skin blanket while sleeping on a bed stuffed with bird feathers. He snore was as quiet and friendly as a lethargic puppy’s.

If a mere sunbeam wasn’t going to wake him up, the loud thud against his cabin wall would. Derrick’s eyes snapped to life as he gazed into the crack that formed as a result of a pole axe strike. At first he was frightened, but then his brows furrowed into anger and he dismissed that first shot by saying, “Goddamn kids!” He threw the blanket off and stood up to confront the invader of his privacy.

And then there was another pole axe strike. And another. And another. Each smashing attack blew a gust of tree bark against the hermit’s body. Now was the perfect time for him to be scared. These weren’t just some damn kids. Whoever was defiling his cabin wanted him dead. But why?

Derrick looked around for a place to retreat, but all four walls were being pounded on while the sounds of animal grunting could be heard from outside. Soon the cracks in the wall turned into full-sized holes and the druid could see what was after him: demonic cows. He wiped his eyes just to make sure his vision wasn’t impeded from the sawdust, which it wasn‘t. There really was an army of cows with pole axes trying to break the walls down.

Chunks of the ceiling were falling down upon the forest warrior, which would have meant the end for him, but was actually his salvation. In one swift movement, he dashed towards the nearly demolished wall, leapt through the nearest ceiling hole, and scaled a tree that happened to be right next the cabin. Derrick climbed with such speed and grace that he made it to the top like the super athlete he was. It was a good thing he was so up high since his cabin collapsed after a few more blows from the demon cows.

“What do you freaks want from me?!” yelled Derrick from his treetop nest.

The cow warriors surrounded the thick tree and the leader of the pack finally gave him the answers he needed. “We know she’s here. She’s the one the Bellingham villagers refer to as Minnie-Moo. Such a disgustingly cute name for a disgusting creature.” The sound of a gentle meow caught everyone’s attention and there was the fluffy black and white cat Minnie-Moo curled up in the tree with Derrick. “That would be her! Throw her down here and I’ll spare your life!”

Minnie cried and pleased with Derrick not to surrender, the latter of the two already getting sick of all the bullshit surrounding his invasion of privacy. All he wanted was to be left alone and he had his chance right then and there as he glared at the frightened fluff ball. But instead, the loner needed more answers. “What did this little feline do to you and your clan of circus freaks?”

“She drank from the pool of our most sacred milk. We use that pool for holy rituals and Minnie violated those terms when she nearly lapped it all up. Gluttony is one of the worst sins this world has to offer and she shall be punished for it. Throw her down right this instant! No more questions!” shouted the leader.

Except Derrick couldn’t throw her down even if he wanted to; Minnie was already leaping from treetop to treetop. Some of the bovine warriors charged after her while others stayed behind and started rocking Derrick’s tree back and forth in an attempt to bring him down hard.

The normally nimble hermit tried to stand up and walk across the branch, but the trembling force of each shake caused him to lose his balance and land on his balls. Derrick Mango let out a shrill of pain while desperately clutching his last means of having children. He would have spilled off to the side and be at the mercy of these ridiculous, but fierce fighters.

Emphasis on would. Minnie was dashing across the treetops in circles and flew right into Derrick’s face with her claws stretched out. The agony of having cat blades in his cheeks caused the druid to temporarily ignore his ball pain and spring to a standing position in an attempt to shake off the rogue cat.

The previous shaking from the cow clerics loosened the tree so much that when Derrick danced around, it fell over and he and Minnie rolled down the hill together at a faster speed than the heavy cows could keep up with on their stubby legs. The screaming in pain and the firestorm of curse words would have been more audible if they weren’t vibrating off of Minnie’s stomach. The blasphemous animal dug deeper into Derrick’s face as a means of holding on tightly for this bumpy ride.

The crash and burn would eventually happen at the bottom of the hill, where they landed hard in a rapid river that began carrying them away underneath the water. Only at the threat of drowning would Minnie let go of Derrick’s face and doggie-paddle toward the surface.

The bloody wounds in the pissed off druid’s visage and his already aching testicles only pissed him off even further. Just when the bovines had reached the bottom of the hill looking for their prey, Derrick pulled Minnie underneath the water. Little did they know the bovines lost their trail and they were ready to give up.

Except Derrick wasn’t pulling Minnie underneath for her safety. He did it because he wanted to scream obscenities at her for putting him in this position in the first place. The bubbles in his lungs muffled most of what he was saying, but it was basically along the lines of this whole mess being Minnie’s fault because she led these “freaks” to his hideout and almost got the both of them killed.

He could have gone on forever ranting and raving while not caring if he or Minnie drowned. But luckily, they didn’t have to worry about being underwater indefinitely since the river dropped them off at a shallow part where Derrick could be on his knees and Minnie could swim to the surface. Both survivors of the bovine rebellion coughed, hacked, and wheezed until every last drop of water was out of their noses and throats.

By the time Derrick was done coughing, his testicle pain flared up again and he was screaming while banging the shallow ground with his fists. Meanwhile, Minnie was curled up at the edge of the river like she wasn’t in danger of dying just now. Typical cat behavior: always ignoring humans in their time of need.

Derrick stood up in the raging river and pressed his thighs together while basically tiptoeing his way to where Minnie was laying. His balls were almost ruptured, his face was still bleeding, and he was in a “don’t fuck with me” mood. Hell, his rage alone would have gotten him a victory over that entire squadron of cow people. But the only cow-like creature he had his flaring eyes on at the moment was Minnie.

“You sick little bitch!” shouted Derrick Mango as he inched closer to the shivering cat. “You nearly got my ass killed. You led those demons to my cabin all because of some stupid milk fiasco. Well, it’s a good thing all that milk made you fat, because I want some chow and you’re the only living thing here with meat on your bones!”

Derrick raised his hands in the air monster-style before his ball pain acted up again and he tumbled over to the side of the wet cat. He cried and bitched and moaned while holding his poor aching groin. “Why, sweet god, why?! What did I do to deserve this! Why me?! Why not somebody else?! I didn’t do no harm to anyone!”

Minnie stood up from her sleeping position and licked the salty river off of Derrick’s nose, which was pretty much the only part of his face that wasn’t soaking in blood. The druid said, “Oh come on! Stop making it so hard to be pissed off!” Minnie purred and licked him some more. “I’m serious!” More purrs, more licks. “Don’t make me go all lovey-dovey for you!” Even more purrs, even more licks.

“Ah, who am I kidding. You saved my life just by clawing my fucking face. I guess that squares things between us. That, and you are kind of cute. Cuter than those stupid humans in the village.” Derrick proved his affections by scratching Minnie behind the ears.

“Minnie-Moo, are you alright?!” That cutesy voice belonged to a village girl no older than seven years. She was dressed up like a doll with her thick white dress and wool boots. As soon as she saw Minnie, the cat ran up to the girl and jumped into affectionate, loving arms. The girl looked down at the wounded Derrick and said, “Thank you for saving my kitty!”

“Oh, no problem. If you wanted to pay me back, you could bring me a healer. I’m kind of in a lot of pain right now,” said Derrick.

“Okay!” said the village girl as she turned around and skipped away with Minnie-Moo in her arms.

Derrick rolled over and slowly removed his hands from his aching balls before saying to himself, “Saved by the fucking humans….damn it! Oh well.”

Ottie-Doo

The Skull Hammer Cult walked the Earth in search of the ultimate paradise and somehow landed in the backwoods area of Paulson City. Their official church was an old schoolhouse from the 1800’s, a one-classroom compound with broken pieces of wood holding it together and stale red paint coming off in flakes. There used to be a beautiful golden bell at the top of the steeple, but it had since been replaced by the symbol of the Skull Hammer Cult, which was an iron skull minus a jaw with a sledgehammer going through its cranium.

Inside this official church, children ranging from little ones to teenagers were sitting in their desks praying and dancing around like creepy little puppets, waiting for their master to return. Randy Fender, the cult master in question, dredged through the front door carrying what appeared to be a dead cat. Its mouth was bleeding and one eye was hanging out of its socket. Instead of being frightened by this, the children’s eyes lit up like Christmas bulbs as they clapped their hands happily at their masters arrival.

Randy, dressed in a smelly blue mechanic’s jumpsuit and a black demon mask, approached the center of the schoolhouse and laid the dead cat on the altar, its rancid corpse making the ugly Skull Hammer symbol even worse to look at.

Mr. Fender looked among the children and said, “Do you see this? This, my brothers and sisters, is what we’ve been looking for this whole time. Not just a source of tonight’s delicious meal, but this wicked creature holds our key to salvation. This cat is imbued with magical powers, powers that once possessed can make us stronger than we’ve ever been. No mere mortal shall stand in our way to paradise. Wait no longer, children. Take the first bite!”

The hypnotized children waved and wiggled their fingers over the cat’s corpse, as if to anticipate how this magical feast will taste to their young palettes. And then the cat’s body began to glow in a mystical purple aura, which made the little ones even more excited than they already were.

They were forced to take a few steps backward, however, when the cat corpse came to life and stood on all four paws. After letting out a long-winded yawn and popping her eyeball back in its socket with her fuzzy paw, the kitty looked around the schoolhouse to see what all the hubbub was about.

“Yes! This is exactly the proof we needed!” shouted an exhilarated Randy. “I knew I picked the right one! I knew it the minute I laid eyes on this poor tortured pussycat!”

The cat gave a confused look and said, “What the hell are you talking about, you whack job? I’m not a poor tortured pussycat. I’m the kitty sage Ottie-Doo. Call me Ottie for short.”

“Wow!” said one of the children. “She can talk!”

Randy grabbed the kid by the back of the neck and sternly warned him, “Remember what I said when I first met you: don’t speak until spoken to, little one!”

“Put that boy down, you monster!” yelled Ottie before she waved her paw and threw a green lightning bolt at Randy Fender’s hand, the sharp pain causing him to yelp and let go.

“So, you’re not only a magical kitty who can talk, but when you do talk, you’re a total smart-ass! I don’t like your attitude, little kitten. These children know better than anybody what happens to little smarmy-mouthed wise-asses in my Skull Hammer Cult. Children? Show this precious feline what I’m talking about!”

“Wait!” shouted Ottie. “Do you children really want to listen to this man? Look at him! He’s less than human! I’m a dingy old cat myself, so that’s saying a lot! Seriously, what do you young ones see in this disgusting man?!”

No response from the children, only wild red eyes and drooling mouths. Randy said, “You were saying, little kitten?”

“Do what you wish to me, demon man, but no harm shall come to these children!” threatened Ottie-Doo.

The kids laughed in throaty, monstrous voices as they closed in on the kitty with their arms stretched out like zombies. The witch kitty floated in the air with pink stardust fluttering underneath her. The kids stared in awe as she flew around the schoolhouse showing off her magical powers. Her biggest trick yet was forming a ball of orange electrical and fiery energy in her paws and chucking it at Randy Fender’s demonic face.

If the cocky cult leader wasn’t wearing a mask, he would be showing off his creepy confidence as he grabbed a nearby child and used him as a human shield. The magical ball exploded the small child, but not into blood and guts. Instead the little boy turned into a pile of maggots, worms, and beetles. It was a sight that made Ottie-Doo watch on in shock and horror as she floated near the ceiling.

“You can’t save these children, witch cat,” said Randy. “They’ve been converted to my minions a long time ago. So many tearful parents are wondering right now if they’ll ever get their children back. Maybe they will someday. But then again, when your body is loaded with parasitic creatures, would any parent want you back in the first place?” The evil cult leader laughed his head off.

The louder and throatier Randy laughed, the angrier it made Ottie-Doo. Her fuzzy paws were curled into fists of fury and her old lady teeth were cracking underneath her jaws. A cyclone of blue lightning and wind encircled her as she prepared for her next magic spell. Randy was already one step ahead of her when he knelt down to peel back a floor board and pulled out a gigantic battleaxe, which was also glowing with blue energy.

“Just to show you how far gone these children are, Miss Ottie-Doo, let me show you just how much they’re willing to sacrifice to make me stronger!” With that said, Randy held out the glowing battleaxe and one by one the children dissolved into a puddle of worms. The worms crawled all around Randy and were gathering around the metal axe, the blade absorbing their spiritual essences. This horrific sight struck even more fear and doubt in the heart of Ottie-Doo as her magical energy was dwindling and she was sinking to the ground below.

She hung her elderly kitty head feeling like a failure to these poor children. Then again, if they were made of worms and maggots, maybe their childlike forms were merely a mind game. So many thoughts raced through her mind as she tried to wrap her head around what this Randy Fender asshole was doing.

She couldn’t take too long to think, however, as she dodged out of the way in the nick of time when the blade came crashing down. Big Randy swung that battleaxe like a berserker, shattering every piece of wood he hit into sawdust. Ottie bounced around and dodged every single shot. She even found herself running along the walls just to avoid getting slashed with this magical weapon.

“You’re gonna die, bitch! You’re gonna die badly!” screamed Randy when he took off his demon mask and revealed the face of a hideously scarred and tattooed psychopath. The sight of his hideous face made Ottie curl up into a ball of fear as her eyes leaked with salty tears. She didn’t feel like she could fight such a monster anymore. He was too big, too fast, and too monstrous. Ottie was just an elderly cat who literally slept like a corpse.

Randy charged over to a cornered Ottie with the blade held high. With one final swing, he was going to break this “annoying” cat into a million pieces. But just as the blade came crashing down, Ottie had one last hope for victory. Randy’s attacks were relying solely on reckless momentum. Therefore, Ottie used telekinesis to use his own momentum against him. Instead of cutting through the elderly witch kitty, the axe took a magical detour into Randy’s stomach.

The cult master never saw this coming behind his own rage. The spirits of dead children were flying out of his body and out of his axe while the ultra-evil Randy Fender melted into a puddle of maggots and worms himself. The parasites dissolved into little puddles of blood and the last of the children spirits flew away into the night sky. With just one small opening, Ottie-Doo ended this battle.

But at what price? Those kids were beyond help. Whatever Randy Fender did to them would put a strain on the parents forever. All Ottie could do was tuck her head and meow softly to herself. She won the battle, but lost the war.

Just when she was about to spend this evening in a crying slumber, she felt a gentle touch on top of her kitty head. Ottie looked up and saw one of the spirit children smiling a beautiful smile at her, just like all children should. In no uncertain terms, the child spirit had only one thing to say to her savior: “Thank you!”

Mittens

NAME: Mittens
AGE: 4
OCCUPATION: Domestic Cat
CANON: Deviant Art Role-Plays


This question is strictly for people who currently have or used to have a Deviant Art account. When you have a lengthy conversation with a fellow member and that member has a sweet disposition, do you oftentimes find yourself in little role-plays? I’m not talking about a controlled environment like Dungeons & Dragons. I’m talking about free-form role-plays where it’s not uncommon to take the role of a kitty the artist has a picture of or a barbarian the artist drew himself. Here’s an example of what I’m talking about:


DEVIANT A: Aww! Cute kitty! I want to pet him!
DEVIANT B: Be my guest!
DEVIANT A: (Scratches the kitty under the chin.)
DEVIANT B: (While taking the role of said kitty) Purrs and rolls over.
DEVIANT A: Would you like some treats, little kitty?
DEVIANT B: Meow!


Role-playing is frowned upon by the elite members of Deviant Art, but I actually find it to my liking. I think it’s cute and cuddly. Of course, it can also be badass and violent like the role-plays I have with my friend Zero while using a Lego ogre I have named Sage Thunderbreath. Sage is supposed to be an intimidating hammer fighter, but he ends up being used for comic relief. Funny how that works out.

This post isn’t about Sage or any of the other characters I’ve used. This post is about a cute and snuggly kitty named Mittens, who was played by me, but named by the cutesy and bouncy girl I was role-playing with, Yasmin. I can’t remember exactly what the occasion was where I used Mittens, but my first guess was a welcome back gesture after Yasmin had been gone for so long from Deviant Art. She would scratch the kitty behind the ears and Mittens would roll over on his back for belly rubs. Yasmin would also give the kitty a ball of yarn to play with as well as a whole cherry pie to eat. Not only did Mittens purr, play, roll over, eat pie, and do all of those other cute things. He also talked. Do you know what Mittens’ first words were? “I wuv you, Yasmin!”

Admit it, animal lovers: you want to own a talking, playing kitty just like Mittens. You want to have long conversations with him while the two of you watch Baby Looney Tunes or Muppet Babies together. Maybe you’ll talk about how you want Baby Bugs Bunny or Baby Kermit the Frog to leap out of the TV and join you two in a big ol’ cuddle-puddle. On a cold winter night when the rain is pouring and the wind is blowing, you’ll all get together under a big warm blankey and snooze away with “The Dreams of Children” by Shadowfax playing on a stereo somewhere.

Cuteness overload? When I’m using Mittens, I’m just getting started, buddy. If it’s at all possible to die of too much cuteness, Mittens will be the one who puts you in a box and sends you to heaven. Or the Rainbow Bridge to see the other animals you’ve had in your long lifetime. When I eventually introduce him into a literary capacity, the story itself will be of TV-Y proportions. Cuteness overloads from top to bottom, even more so than in a short story I wrote called “Sitka the Nose Biter”. No violence of any kind except for cartoon-style slapstick. No swearing unless they’re watered down to children’s level words like “darn” and “heck”. Sexual content? Fucking forget it! Oops, I’ve already violated the TV-Y standards! Oh well! Some things never change! Hehe!

　

***WRESTLING DIALOGUE OF THE DAY***

“Say no to negativity.”

-Jerry Lawler-

"Wish You Were Here" by Rita Mae Brown

BOOK TITLE: Wish You Were Here: A Mrs. Murphy Mystery
AUTHOR: Rita Mae Brown & Sneaky Pie Brown
YEAR: 1990
GENRE: Fiction
SUBGENRE: Cozy Mystery
GRADE: Mixed


In the teeny tiny town of Crozet, Virginia, everybody knows and trusts each other, which is what makes the murders of several townsfolk easy for the killer to cover up. It could literally be anyone. Aside from the local police, on the case is Mary Minor “Harry” Haristeen, a divorcee mail sorter with a tiger kitty named Mrs. Murphy and a Welsh Corgi named Tee Tucker. Harry believes she’s getting closer to the truth behind the murders, but not nearly as close as her own pets, who have more sense than most humans do.

Speaking of that last sentence, that’s actually one of the things that makes this book so enjoyable. In between sniffing out clues and helping their nearly brain dead owner, Mrs. Murphy and Tucker have conversations with the animals about how dumb humans are and many of the things they say are true. Humans can advance technology to its absolute limit, but they still kill each other over stupid things, get married to the wrong people, spend money they don’t have on things they don’t need, the list is as endless as time itself. I wouldn’t mind having these little cuties on an episode of Real Time with Bill Maher. Hell, they make more sense than pretty much every whacko who sits at that panel.

Aside from being dead on in their assessments of humans, Mrs. Murphy, Tucker, and company are just so darn cute! They roll over, play with paper, do acrobatics, and everything else that makes animals so much fun to own. Yes, they occasionally break lamps and rip up necessary papers, but that doesn’t make the little critters any less cute. I wouldn’t mind having Mrs. Murphy on my lap purring her head off while I feed her Temptations Kitty Treats. Aww!!

But just like with anything I give a mixed grade (or three stars) to, there are some minor complaints I need to deal with. I realize this book was published in 1990 and it’s not Rita Mae Brown’s fault she was born in the generation she was. But her age shows in this novel. The gossip among the women, the old-time traditions, the social elite statuses, even the character’s names make the book hard for younger readers to relate to. Is Haristeen even a real last name? I’m not sure, because as I type it out on my computer, there’s a squiggly red line underneath. And Hogendobber? Isn’t that the name of an ice cream brand? And who in the hell names their smoking hot daughter BoomBoom? I realize the novel is set in a small town, but this is taking small town stereotypes to an entirely different level.

Despite its minor faults, this is actually an enjoyable read. The mystery is well-constructed and when you eventually find out the whos, whys, and hows of it all, it will take you by surprise. I had a hard time piecing everything together at first, but it all made sense at the very end. If you like animal cuties or if you just want a good murder mystery, check out this book. And by the way, if you get a postcard in your mailbox with a tombstone on it that says, “Wish you were here”, you’d better run like hell!

Picklebee's Legacy

The word Picklebee has a lot of sentimental value to me, which is fucked up if you read the rest of this blog post. When I first introduced it to my bestie Susan and niece Reina as a nickname for our cat Smokey, the two of them were unanimously against it. They felt it was too creepy for a cute critter like Smokey. I thought to myself, “How could a cute word like Picklebee have any creepy connotations?”

I still wonder that to this day. Pickles is an actual pet name that’s been used before. Bees are cute and cuddly (whenever they’re not stinging you). Put them together and you have a loving nickname. Susan and Reina weren’t sold on it. So one day during a yard sale, I wrote “Picklebee” on the sidewalk with pink chalk, scaring the crap out of any customer who saw it.

With all of these people taking note of how scary a simple affectionate name could be, I figured I wasn’t going to win the cuteness battle, so I might as well roll with the creepiness of it all. When I first introduced the name Picklebee to the internet, it was in the form of a short horror story I wrote for Good Reads called “Picklebee, God of Death”. If you’re not scared shitless already, you will be when you learn that Picklebee was an indestructible demonic cat who slashed the shit out of anybody she deemed unworthy.

She turned a psychotic pizza delivery guy into her own personal slave and slashed the throats of the cop and landlord who tried to evict that same guy. There was blood everywhere, and that was just the decorations of the guy’s apartment before the fight took place. To put it in more relatable terms, “Picklebee, God of Death” was Pet Cemetery on crack. It was so violent that I constantly worried about disqualification from that week’s contest. I wasn’t disqualified. Instead I ended up in last place with zero votes.

That short story will see the light of day one way or another. But what about the other creative connotation I gave the name Picklebee? In the WWE, the divas division is all about good looks and bad wrestling. I’m honestly frightened at the idea of an NXT diva not being able to clean house in that division, especially considering how underrated Paige was on the main roster. And then my prayers were answered within the confines of my own imagination.

The ultimate unholy alliance of female martial artists, each member a present or future subject on Garrison’s Library. You’ve got the vengeful mixed-martial artist Rachel Gustafson, the pissed off referee Devon Spirit Wolf, and then there’s Picklebee, the name that should be given to Fallon Fox if she ever wants to transition from MMA to pro-wrestling.

An Amazon, an Indian, and a transsexual walk into a bar. It’s not the start of a bad joke; it’s the precursor to a dominant barroom brawl for all three of these women. If these three could keep a hospital full of bar patrons, imagine what kind of Armageddon they could put the WWE divas division through. Sorry, Natalya, but you too are going to be a victim of this onslaught.

If the name Picklebee can’t be cute and cuddly, it’s going to be disastrous and apocalyptic. She is the God of Death. The skies will rain blood. The oceans will be covered in green slime. The roads will be paved with powdered bones. The mountains will be kicked over. The forests will be burned to ashes. Those who survive will live their lives as the God of Death’s slaves. Whether she’s a cute kitty cat, a brutal mixed-martial artist, or Cthulu with a vagina, nobody is safe from this hellfire wrath. That is, unless you feed her Temptations kitty treats at 3:00 in the morning.

　

***PROVERB OF THE DAY***

Whatever you do to your children, your children will do to the world.

　

***BY THE WAY***

This will be the first of many posts detailing my socially awkward behavior. That’s going to be a brand new category alongside reviews and character profiles. Be afraid. Be really fucking afraid!