My 13-year-old cat, Josie, passed away after an unhappy lifetime of major anxiety and resulting poor health. At first I thought I'd wait for quite a while before I got another cat. But then I found myself trolling shelter sites, looking at feline pictures on the sly, and searching for my favorite of all cats, a tabby. I didn't want a kitten. Oh, they're so cute and loveable, but an adult cat has an established personality and you know what you're getting. I was cruising Oregon Humane Society's site when I saw this photo.
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Murphy |
He's a seven-year-old cat with three legs. Apparently, he lost his right front leg as a kitten in some vaguely described injury. He'd been surrendered for equally vague reasons. His coat was a little rough, and he needed a good home and quality diet. Of course, I took one look at him and I was a goner. He needed me. I printed out the page and carried it to the shelter to meet him. What a doll! Even if you aren't a cat person, you can understand why my heart went out to him. He's so affectionate and loving. And while his gait is off, he gets around pretty well, and he's fit in with the dogs just fine. Good food gave him a sleek coat, and he's a sweet, happy guy. I named him Murphy.
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Then there was mundane stuff like having a huge poplar in the backyard removed. It was about 60 feet tall and only about half grown. The arborist who looked at it said that it could fall down (right into the house) and its roots ran everywhere, making the backyard as bumpy and uneven as a wild forest but without the glamour or romance of the real thing. Now that part of the yard looks nekkid but I think I'll leave it to the dogs for a while.
While all this excitement was happening, I was also working on my next project. More news about that to come soon. I'll be in NY for Book Expo. If you go, drop by the Amazon booth on the afternoon of June 5th and say hi. I'll be doing a signing.