Catsup

Copyright © 2011 by Randi Giles.

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This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

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ISBN: 978-1-4620-3895-4 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4620-3894-7 (ebk)

iUniverse rev. date: 11/07/2012

Contents

ACKNOWLEGMENTS

INTRODUCTION (Cats)

DADDY COMES HOME

SAYING GOODBYE

BAD COMPANY

THE BET

SNOWFLAKE MAKES A SCENE

HEROES COME IN ALL SIZES

PACO’S TURN

THE SEARCH FOR COCO

PACO’S BIRTHDAY PARTY

THE GUEST

PACO LEARNS SIGN LANGUAGE

THE RENDEZVOUS

OUT OF HARM’S WAY

WHO DUNNIT

GETTING READY FOR HALLOWEEN

GATO DIABLO

NOT ALL BLONDES ARE ALIKE

THE CAR-TAILS

DOWN BEARSKIN RIDGE

THE ACCIDENT

BY THE TAIL

BACK HOME

CONCLUSION

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

ACKNOWLEGMENTS

I would like to thank God who still does mighty miracles. He helps the poor and the needy. He protects us from our enemies. His eyes are on the sparrow, and his eyes are on me. And I thank Him for his inspiration in writing this story.

I also thank my daughter who goaded me to write it and helped with the content. I could not have done the computer work or e-mail without her help. She sometimes still longs for those carefree childhood days of brightly dyed Easter eggs and stealthy tooth fairies. She misses Jessica, who was our snow-white, trick-performing Snowflake.

I also thank Margaret Cobbs, Cedar Crafter’s Furniture, and Jimmy Turner, for their trucking expertise and advice, and I thank Covenant Transport for giving me a chance to drive an 18-wheeler.

INTRODUCTION (Cats)

Not all people like cats, and by the same token, not all cats like people. Some folks believe that cats are self-centered and egotistical. These folks usually fall into the dog-lover group. They prefer a more affectionate, less independent pet. Other folks are allergic to cats. If there is a cat anywhere around, they will get itchy and sneezy. And then there are the phobic types, ranging from those who are just a wee bit superstitious to those who are extremely afraid of cats.

Since ancient times, cats have been on the chopping block of public opinion, inspiring both dread and awe. Although one civilization (the Egyptians) esteemed cats as gods, some other cultures have taken a more negative view, associating these cute, cuddly creatures with evil spirits or bad luck. Truth is, cats (even the scary black ones) are just ordinary animals. Most of them are perfectly happy with a little pat on the head, a warm place to curl up and snooze, and a free food pass—skip the mouse—Purina will do fine.

However, it is amazing how divided people are about cats. It seems that either they love them—or they don’t. Some cat lovers have as many as 10-30 cats on the premise, each of them given special names and plenty of good kitty food to eat. Others stand at the doorway with boots and brooms, ready to shoo off any cat that dares sets foot on their property. Because of this divergence of opinion, the mere presence of a cat can cause problems among family members or persons having to room together—those who dislike cats, regarding them with evil suspicion; those who "fancy" cats, preferring to think of their feline friends as their most pampered treasures. Such persons should never be put in the same room together, with a cat! For example: Jill + cat = LOVE. Jim + cat = FEAR. Sum up these two equations and what do you get? WARFARE!

If people truly understood God’s purpose for cats, they would show them more kindness. Cats are excellent hunters, and a large feral population of cats would have exterminated the rats that spread deadly plagues in Europe. Cats also make wonderful companions for children, the elderly, and the lonely at heart.

So why are cats so often maligned and misunderstood? Perhaps scientists can shed some light on that subject as they study these amazing creatures—their ancestry, their mystery, why they purr, just what it is that makes a cat, tick! But until then, the best way to understand a cat is to simply put yourself in its paws. Why does one cat in our story dream of stealing jalepeño cheese balls while another cat dreams of someday driving an 18-wheeler? That is something no scientist will ever know. But it is something you can find out for yourself. As you read this story, find a warm place to curl up, and allow your imagination to soar. Then you will know what it is really like to be a cat.

Now this story is about a very special cat named Snowflake. She was one of the lucky cats, I suppose—very spoiled. Everyone in her family loved her very much. Therefore, she had toys, accessories, and way too many pretty sweaters hanging in the closet. Her name was Snowflake for obvious reasons; she was snow white, without a single stripe or spot. In addition to being pretty, she had a great personality laced with lots of attitude. That’s because she was very proud of being a cat, and she made sure all the dogs in the neighborhood knew it, too. With a swat of her paw and a loud HISS, she let them know, I RULE!

When she wasn’t ruling the roost, Snowflake was most often sleeping or pretending to be asleep. Unlike humans, cats don’t crash and sleep hard. They nap lightly all through the day and play mostly in the evening, so to us diurnal creatures, they appear to spend their entire lives just lying around catnapping. When awake, they appear to waste what’s left of the day staring out of windows in dreamy cat—atonic states. Because cats spend so much of the day sleeping or daydreaming, some folks, especially hardcore dog enthusiasts, would like everyone to believe that not a whole lot goes on in a cat’s cranium. Perhaps it is true that the feline family is not the Einstein of the animal kingdom. That credit goes to the apes. But who would want an ape for a pet—a creature that swings from the chandeliers and is so disgustingly hairy that it is put aboard spaceships and blasted off of planet earth. A cat has just the right amount of intelligence, for a cat, and is smarter at staying alive than a dog. Have you ever seen a cat throw itself in front of the tire of a moving vehicle after chasing it down a road? Case made.

Yes, cats can be smart! But as every cat owner knows, a cat is only smart when it wants to be. Snowflake was such a cat. She could do anything she set her mind to do and be anything she wanted to be. She had a mind of her own, and therefore she didn’t always want to mind. Besides being smart in an independent sort of way, Snowflake was all-cat in other respects: She had two pointy ears that could listen well in whichever direction they pointed. She also had fearsome claws that she could pull in or whip out like switch blades, and of course, she had a tail. Most cats have tails, except for the tailless Manx or the bobtail with its stub. Snowflake, on the other hand, had been blessed with an exquisitely lovely, long, fluffy tail.

Now a cat’s tail is supposed to function as a rudder to help it perform acrobatics with grace, balance, and beauty. But in Snowflake’s case, her tail was mostly just getting in the way or getting stepped on. Having her tail stomped, slammed in the door, sucked up by the vacuum cleaner, or covered with styling gel and Jana’s doll curlers at times got on Snowflake’s nerves but never to the point that she boohooed and wished she had been born a Manx. Quite the contrary, for cats crave attention, and there is no better attention getter than a long, fluffy tail!

From the day she was first able to toddle around on four wobbly legs, Snowflake set about learning the ABC’s of being a cat. Most importantly, her mother taught her how to use her fluffy tail to communicate with her human friends. Swish your tail when you are upset, she was told, and curl your tail when you are happy. As an adult, she moved to higher levels of education. In Advanced Stratagems of Tail Application 402, she learned how to dangle her tail in front of the TV set. She also learned how to flop the fluff on any book, newspaper, or laptop that happened to be competing with her for all the attention. Moreover, since Daddy was Snowflake’s favorite person in the whole world, she could not tolerate the family dog drooling up to him. If it meant that she had to scratch the dog on its slobbery face, or spring into Daddy’s lap and use her fluffed-out tail to block his view of the dog, her goal was always the same—to make it absolutely clear to everyone, especially Coco, that Daddy was not to love anyone except her! Being all-cat is hard work, which meant that Snowflake had to work hard to make sure she was always the center of attention. To do so, she had to employ every weapon in her arsenal—tail, beauty, brains, charm, and (in Coco’s case) claws if necessary, to remind others, "Thou shalt have NO other gods before me."

Yes, Snowflake was a typical cat in most respects, except for a few idiosyncrasies that made her unique. As previously mentioned, one of them was her jealous nature. It is natural for a cat to be jealous of other cats and to try to run them off. However, Snowflake was also jealous of dogs. Now it is shamefully uncatlike for a cat to be jealous of a dog, but Snowflake didn’t quite know how to compete with Coco. This obsequious, slobbering bundle of affection seemed to demand and get ALL the attention. However, Snowflake drew the line with Daddy. If he tried to steal Daddy’s love, she would chase the howling dog around the coffee table, hissing at it and waving her claws in the air like a saber-toothed Neanderthal.

Snowflake was offbeat in other ways as well. Cats like to explore. But crave the unexpected? Seek adventure? Of course not! Nearly all cats prefer to stay where it is safe and cozy. Snowflake was not all-cat in this respect either because she loved a little adventure. However, not all adventure did she love, even a little, such as going to the veterinary clinic or traveling in moving vehicles. Nevertheless, she could adapt to any new set of circumstances that life sent her way. Anything was better than sitting around in a window all day long. Snowflake called it "windowsill babysitting. Most cats enjoy the windowsill as one would enjoy a safe, comfortable rocking chair, but to Snowflake, too much window" was boring. Therefore, it was her habit to sneak out of the house for a little adventure. The tanning booth in front of the window had its perks, but it could not hold a candle to a safari adventure, the great cardinal hunt at the tiptop of the tallest tree in the yard. Besides, after months of trying to get a tan, Snowflake found that her fur was still just as white as ever.

There is a message in this story. Every now and then, like Snowflake, we should all step out of the window for a little adventure. However, stepping out to do the right thing usually means butting heads with bad people who believe they have a right to do the wrong things. There are bad people outside the window, there are bad people inside the window, in our own families even, and jails are full of people who are window-cell babysitting for doing bad things.

If somewhere along the path of adventure you find yourself in trouble, remember that God sometimes sends mighty angels to help those who cry out to Him. More often, however, he will send something less formidable, such as a spoiled cat or a grumpy dog. When everything seems hopeless, God has plans A and B prepared to deal with the situation. But, if these don’t work, remember there’s always good ol’ plan C (cat)—and if really desperate—D (dog).

Remember to stick to the script, keep a chin up attitude, and learn to roll with the punches. How? Let’s see what happened to Snowflake and her daddy when they ventured beyond the windowsill. For the rest of the story, just close your eyes, meditate, and BE A CAT!

Windowsill babysitting.

DADDY COMES HOME

The day her daddy came home, Snowflake was lying in the big front window soaking up sunbeams. Babysitting the window could be a real drag, but it was the next best thing to being outdoors and a great place to practice her Yoga. As she lay there meditating, she looked prim and pretty in her pink sweater. It had silver sequins stitched across the back, which spelled out the words, "Spoiled Brat." Actually, Snowflake was spoiled only in the sense that she did not like to get her paws dirty, and she was a brat only when she was getting into trouble, which was more often than not. Moreover, she was sometimes just a little too fussy about her absolutely awesome tail.

Mom whispered to Jana, Snowflake is so deep in thought! I wonder what she is planning.

Seven-year-old Jana laughed and replied, You mean what she is plotting? I bet she wants to go outside and scratch some dog on the nose.

They knew her well, for in spite of her I’m-lost-in-thought look, Snowflake was feeling quite restless today. As a rule, she did not like dogs. But alas, she sometimes had to put up with them, especially Coco, the family’s cocker spaniel. But even Coco had learned never to get too close to Snowflake, for she was truly a fickle feline. Depending on her mood and whether or not she had kittens to protect, she could be sweet or savage, spoiled or brave, a prima donna or a vicious, ninja cat warrior. She ADORED kittens, and when it came down to defending them, it was no-claws-barred for Snowflake. One fine day, after giving her last brood of kittens a good bath, she took them outdoors for their first stalking and pouncing lessons. The kittens were jumping this way and that, pouncing on little leafhoppers, when the neighbor’s Rottweiler, Buddy, escaped from his fence and snarled at them. Snowflake charged at him like a bolt of lightning and swiped him in the face with her paw. Then she chased after him screaming, TAKE THAT—ROTT-BREATH! Ever since that day, he wore a scarred-up knot on his nose as a reminder to stay away from cats.

Today, Snowflake was feeling especially moody, but scratching dogs was not on her to-do list. For weeks, she had shielded her heart from the sorrow of her daddy going away by putting him on the backburner of her mind. Now her internal clock told her that Daddy would be coming home soon. Therefore, she waited at the window for him, her heart filled with longing and excitement. Snowflake thought, Can’t they see I want to go outside? I want to be the first one to greet Daddy when he comes home. She also wanted to catch the cardinal that was pecking at her through the windowpane. Her tail switched with an irritated flick as the bird fluttered away. She planned her next move: I’ll pretend I’m asleep. Then, as soon as the front door opens, I will rush out and catch that fat, grain-fed bird, (referring to Mom’s bird feeder). She smacked her lips, contemplating how delicious a feathery cardinal might be. However, in order to hunt birds, she had to be a real escape artist, for her family preferred to keep her inside for her own safety. If she wanted out, though, she could always figure out a way—that little round brain inside of her little round head would start rolling around, and pretty soon she’d be through a door, out a window, or stuck in some air conditioning duct, yowling.

Now Snowflake’s daddy was a truck driver. He drove big semi trucks with 18 wheels. He drove all across the country and did not come home very often. Sometimes he would stay on the truck several weeks, but he and Mom would talk on the phone every day, for they were very much in love. Snowflake also loved her daddy. She saw Mom watching through the window, too, and knew that he was coming home today! When Snowflake saw the truck’s engine section (also called a bobtail or tractor) pull up in the driveway, her heart raced with joy. Immediately she jumped from the window and ran to the door to meet him. Her heart throbbed with love as he picked her up. She purred and purred, rubbing her head against his hands.

I missed you so much! she said in her purrs. Why did you leave me?

He kissed Snowflake. Well, girl, it looks like you didn’t forget me!

Are you kidding? said Mom. "She hasn’t been this happy since the day you left… and neither have I." She and Dad hugged and kissed, squashing Snowflake in between. Snowflake squalled and fluffed out her tail in front of Daddy’s face.

Any news about Coco? asked Mom.

No, he sighed, I’ve searched everywhere, but no one has seen the little truck hopper.

Coco was the family dog, but he was really Daddy’s dog because Daddy took him everywhere on his truck, through cities great and small, and through the mountains, deserts, forests, and farmlands of America. Coco loved to go on the truck, and he was a good friend to Dad on those long, lonesome trips. Coco didn’t even mind listening to Country on the radio hour after hour, and he would always wag his tail and seem to enjoy Daddy’s dumb jokes. Dad said he would rather have Coco for a trucking buddy than a man because Coco was easier to get along with. Even though Coco looked dumb with his big tongue hanging out of his mouth, he was really quite smart and knew which one was Daddy’s truck. After doing his business, he would always hustle right back to the big blue engine and wait there by the door—but not this last time. When Daddy exited the restaurant with a sack of food for himself and Coco, he saw another 18-wheeler pull out of the lot with what appeared to be two cocker spaniels.

Now Coco was chocolate brown all over except for the top of his head. Daddy had asked the dog groomers to allow this white spot, which the groomers called a topknot, to grow and stick up. With that white puff on his head, he was easy to tell apart from other dogs.

Mom asked Dad, Are you sure it was Coco you saw on the other truck? Perhaps we should be looking for him in the shelters instead.

How many times do I have to tell you! he replied. "It was HIM all right—ol’ marshmallow head! And the other dog looked like a cocker spaniel too. They both had their heads hanging out a window, happy as two peas in a pod. I hollered at Coco as the truck swung by, but he paid no attention to me. Next thing I knew, they were gone. The driver of that