June 2017

1
Sherlock Herms in…Where There’s Smoke There’s Fire
2
Helen, the Deaf and Blind Baby Raccoon
3
True Confession: I Was Bamboozled by Slow Blinky Eyes
4
Winds of Change…Change Life for Wildlife
5
Sherlock Herms in…Feral Informants
6
Celebrating 4th BelleHerm Anniversary
7
June 21st is Groundhog Day…At My House
8
Baby Raccoons 2017 Part 2
9
Sherlock Herms in… A Meatball Lunch with a Side Order of Clues
10
Sherlock Herms in Ghost Hunter Blues

Sherlock Herms in…Where There’s Smoke There’s Fire

Previously on Sherlock Herms in Feral Informants.

Mom sighed as she disconnected her phone. “This ghost hunting career of yours has turned dangerous,” she said to me. “And I’m mad at myself that I’ve been too distracted setting up this bed and breakfast to notice what’s been happening right under my roof.”

“I’m getting out of the purranormal biz. At least I hope to,” I reassured as I led her downstairs and out the front door where Dori sat on the porch steps. “What did you find?”

Dori swiped a paw across her weepy eyes. “Nacho led me to Violet’s grave. He said Dottie is buried there, too.”

Mom abruptly went back inside. I wondered if she was nervous about what I’d asked her to do and needed to pee, or was backing out of our plan to trap Dottie’s killer in a confession. But then she returned with scissors and a large shopping tote that smelled like bread. As she snipped several yellow Julia Child roses from the nearby bushes she said, “Crawl inside the tote, under the bread loaves. Patty Kiss claims to be allergic to cats. She won’t allow me inside her home if she sees you.”

I pushed aside the crusty loaves to settle at the bottom of the tote. Dori climbed in beside me. As Mom carried us to the house next door, I whispered the plan to Dori. She seemed uncharacteristically subdued. “Hoomons can be so dissy-pointing.” I couldn’t agree more.

I heard Mom whisper, “It’s show time!” and ring the doorbell. A moment passed before the door opened and I heard Patty Kiss say to Mom, “What a surprise.”

“I was on my way home from the store,” Mom told her, “but when I saw how pretty my roses were, I cut a few for your home.”

“Thank you,” Patty said. “My grandmother planted those bushes years ago. But she never shared them with me.”

“Cuz yoo is a bad lady,” Dori whispered inside the tote, and I told her to Shhh. Read More

Helen, the Deaf and Blind Baby Raccoon

Dateline: June 29, 2011

Since 2007 my yard has been used by raccoons to raise their families. I provide water pools, dog food and peanuts, and in return they drive away poisonous snakes.

When I step outside with kibble, they gather around my feet to escort me down the slope to where my yard skirts a tree-lined creek. Throughout the summer into fall, the babies learn to trust me, and by early winter when they are old enough to be on their own, they continue to return. And, as Mother Nature intends, they bring their babies to my yard the following spring.ince 2007 my yard has been used by raccoons to raise their families. I provide water pools, dog food and peanuts, and in return they drive away poisonous snakes.

The cycle continues.

June 29, 2011 – Baby Helen and her brother Huck.

I met Helen the summer of 2011. When I approached, her siblings ran for the woods, but she did not. I soon realized she was both blind and deaf. I could slide food right under her nose, but she had no idea I was there. Her nose, however, was in perfect working order. She loved peanut butter sandwiches. I often saw her eating by the pool…alone. The size of a basketball, she would have been easy pickings for a stray dog or a fox to kill her. I had to do something.

When I called Petra at the wildlife rehabilitation center, I barely got the words ‘blind and deaf baby’ out of my mouth when she asked, “Do you have her trapped?”

Well…no. I have enough cats to know what goes into their mouths comes out their bottoms. I was not going to catch Helen until I knew I could hand her off immediately. Read More

True Confession: I Was Bamboozled by Slow Blinky Eyes

Happy Wednesday, Furends! It’s me, Dori. *wavy paws* Today my chat is about my experience with a real live Cat Whispurrer.

Anyone who knows me knows I don’t easily meet new hoomons. To me, a Stranger Danger alert means I dive under the couch the moment someone who doesn’t smell like my mom or dad walks in the door.

No offense to those who like kitties, but you have to go a long way to win my trust, and up till now no one…NO ONE…has won me over except for my mom and dad.

So a couple Sundays ago when my daddy went out of town for a week on biz, I was expecting to have my mom all to myself…except for Hwermie, Opie, Peaches, Dori (wait–that’s me), Frank, Chauncie Marie, Jack, Jesse, Nikolas (my daddy), Gidget, Candy and Elly, my newest little sister, and Chevy the new outdoor kid. Yup! My mom all to myself.

Except that didn’t happen. About two hours after Dad left, I was on my way from the bedroom to the living room when the front door opened and in walked …

Read More

Winds of Change…Change Life for Wildlife

On Friday June 23rd around 7:30 a.m. the storm produced by Hurricane Cindy blew through my neighborhood, bringing with it high winds and driving rain.

This is what a typical morning in my yard looked like before Cindy:

Huck in front brings the wife and kids for breakfast.

On Friday morning the above photo was business as usual, except a bit soggier. Huck and his family are a lot like mail carriers…neither wind or rain will keep them from stopping by for brekkie.

Meanwhile my Garage Band, Nikolas and Jesse, were in their lair hard at work on a new song (written by our resident songtress Dori–she says the song’s title is Buy Me A Cow).

As the storm was rolling in, I closed the door, and then went to check on Chevy who was now on a chair, hiding under the patio table. As Chevy hasn’t been with us long and is still enrolled in Social Skillz 101, he’s been given yard access, but unfortunately has to weather the weather outside. Read More

Sherlock Herms in…Feral Informants

Previous episode: Sherlock Herms in…A Meatball Lunch with a Side Order of Clues.

As I zoomed for the cat colony behind my house, my whiskers sizzled with suspicion. I’d had my A-Ha moment when our nonagenarian neighbor, Fjarskarfinn Skredskarvig—aka Finn—mentioned Patty Kiss may have been upset when her grandmother, Violet, left her multi-million dollar estate to Dottie.

Upset enough to murder her sister? Maybe not, but it was a good clue.

I had plans to chat with Patty Kiss, who was the realtor who sold us our home, but I needed more than a meatball-making old lady’s suggestion that she had motive. Finn said Dottie would never leave town with a strange man. She loved her cats too much, especially the homeless kitties in the colony. Yet that’s was what Patty Kiss told everyone. Dottie ran off with a strange boyfriend.

Amazing how one little suggestion had started to fill in the missing pieces to the puzzle of how Dottie got dead.

Dottie’s colony lived in the woodland park behind our home. I didn’t have to search long to find them. Dottie had built shelters among the thick brush by the pond. At a glance I saw ten cats, but my strong sense of smell told me there were more. My heart hurt for them, not having a home. No longer having Dottie to care for them. Did they hunt? Or did kind hoomons bring them noms and fresh water? Read More

Celebrating 4th BelleHerm Anniversary

Today, June 22nd, Belle @Frankencat1 and I, Herman @TattleCat celebrate our 4th anniversary. Thanks to the phenomenally talented @DanaPixie, we had the wedding of our dreams at the Grand Hotel on Mackinac Island, Michigan–complete with a Cast of Thousands,

Seriously. Thousands. We refused to leave any of our bestest pals out of the wedding pawty. It holds the record for the largest wedding @DanaPixie ever created. Thank you, Dana, so much for the memories.

Join me in looking back on that truly Wonderpurr day on June 22, 2013 when I made my beautiful Belle my bride.

Gidget, Fussy, Bennie, Lou, Gromek and Fancy.

Our ceremony was Officiated by @DanaPixie & @FatherTazo

As Belle and I exchanged meows, JeffMusk presented our rings.

Belle’s pawrents, David and Karen, Belle, Me Herman, and my pawrents Kim and Ray.

Belle and I with our entire wedding pawty.

If you would like to see the entire wedding album, you are invited to click the invitation below that will take you to the album. When you get there, click on the first photo–it will enlarge–and then use the right arrow on the side of the photo to flip through our wedding album. Hope you enjoy!

June 21st is Groundhog Day…At My House

Hey pals! Celebrating the first day of Summertime with an unexpected guest at my house. A groundhog! Never saw one here before. Not sure if he’s from Punxsutawney or if his name is even Phil…cuz we didn’t want to crack open the door to ask him and risk him skadaddling off.

He stayed around our porch for about an hour, nomming on something clearly irresistible, while posing for my pawpawrazzi Mom. We think he’s Wonderpurr!

Baby Raccoons 2017 Part 2

I have a special weakness for raccoons. I’ve allowed them to enjoy my back yard for ten years, and because I provide them with fresh water and dog kibble…and peanuts for treats…they welcome me like I’m one of the family. It’s a fair trade. They keep the snakes away.

On June 5th I posted the first photos I took of this summer’s baby raccoons. You can see them by clicking here.

Over the past couple of weeks the babies have become accustomed to seeing me, and don’t run into the woods when I step outside. Yesterday I saw them hanging out in one of the trees, trying to cool off. I thought you would enjoy seeing what I saw.

Sherlock Herms in… A Meatball Lunch with a Side Order of Clues

Previous episode:  Sherlock Herms in Ghost Hunter Blues.

Sprawled on a bench across the road from our house in the town of Welcome Home, I absently watched a dozen piping plovers skip along the sandy beach. There was no cool breeze to ruffle my floofy fur as summer had settled like a steamy wet blanket over the Mitten State. Plus the air stank of dead fish (and not in a yummy way.)

I felt depressed. Splintered into pieces. Everyone was mad at me.

Dottie the ghost girl had disappeared while I was having fun at Blogpaws, a pet bloggers conference where I go every year to hang out with my fans. It wasn’t my fault. I’d run out of time and couldn’t help her find the Light before we left town. But Dori blamed me, and so did Charley and the others.

I didn’t care. Let them be mad. It was high time I took control of my life instead of letting Dori and Charley and my WAD team lead me around by the choke chain.

I’m not selfish. I appreciate that sometimes dead hoomons need help. But why me? Others were available to help, like James Van Praagh, John Edward, and the new kid, Tyler Henry—the Hollywood Medium. They talked to dead hoomons all the time. In fact, the kid had an unnaturally cheerful way of doing it. The right attitude!

I wanted to be a detective. Search for clues. Solve mysteries—and not about why a hoomon got dead. That stuff depressed the dickens outta me. I was on the eighth of my nine lives. Time was running out. I wanted to spend my remaining life doing happy stuff.

So I told Charley and my WAD team that I was closing the Wonderpurr Detective Agency. Closing it right after I found out why Dottie the ghost girl got dead, and maybe helped her find the Light. I had to help her. Dori said it was the right thing to do, and I agreed.

I had a notebook open beside me filled with scribbles. Tyler Henry scribbled when he channeled what dead hoomons wanted to tell him. So far all I had was squiggles and doodles, and car-paw tunnel from holding my purple crayon too tight.

As I set my notebook aside, I heard mew-sic behind me. I turned to see Dori strumming a pink toy guitar. Read More

Sherlock Herms in Ghost Hunter Blues

“Dori! Candy! Frank! Opie! Hey guys, where are you? I brung ya presents.”

Dragging one of the KATRIS modular cat tree pieces through the front door, I was disappointed no one was there to welcome me home from Blogpaws. My friend Kate Benjamin had given me the cool cat tree to share with my fur sibs, and I had stuffed mousies and Meowijuana catnip to pass out. But where was everyone?

Leaving the heavy KATRIS piece in the hall, I checked the kitchen, the litter box room and the other rooms downstairs before zooming upstairs. I’d been gone a week. Didn’t they miss me? Weren’t they excited to welcome me home?

As I arrived on the third floor I heard the familiar clicking sound of my brothers playing on top of the chase-ball-with-sticks table, while my sisters lounged on the comfy chairs and couches. “Hey everyone, I’m home!”

I expected a rousing cheer, but all I got was a few stink-eyes while the others totally ignored me. What the Friskies! Read More

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