Meow Go Blue!
Sherlock Herms Master Detective – Part 3
Review – Arm & Hammer SLIDE Cat Litter
#SundaySelfie with Candy
Sherlock Herms Master Detective – Part 2
#RememberMeThursday – Frank
Winner of Finding Mya Book
#SundaySelfie with Chevy
Happy 1st Day of Autumn
Sherlock Herms in… The Making of a Master Detective

Meow Go Blue!

We are huge University of Michigan Wolverine football fans at my house. Every Caturday my Dad puts on his favorite U of M tee shirt and hat, and buys pizza noms. Then he rushes around getting weekend chores done so he can watch the game in peace.

Well, at my house “Peace” is relative what with Mom and the Wonderpurr Gang in constant motion complete with hissy fits between Gidget and Candy, Frank yelling at Chevy, and Dori climbing stuff that usually falls and breaks. Otherwise… it’s peaceful.

Today the University of Michigan is gonna pounce all over Michigan State. It’s the best in-state rivalry ev-ver.

Happy Caturday!



Sherlock Herms Master Detective – Part 3

Previously on Sherlock Herms Master Detective – Part 1. Part 2.

I awoke to the sound of British accents, and found myself inside Mosey who had rolled into an alley for the night. Feeling a soft vibration beneath me, I realized he was still asleep, so I placed my chin on the tops of my paws to think.

I’d left Dori, Opie, Jack, and the rest of my W.A.D. team back in my attic office in order to find Sherlock Holmes and ask him to teach me to be a Master Detective like him. But I couldn’t find him, even when I typed 221B Baker Street, London, UK into Mosey’s control panel.

First I came to a restaurant named The Sherlock Holmes, and then Mosey took me to a museum wearing his name on Baker Street. The thing is, I couldn’t find 221B. Not even 221A! It’s like it disappeared.

I felt like a failure. But if I wanted to be a Master Detective I couldn’t give in to failure. I had to deduce like Holmes. What would he do if the address he wanted either seemed to have vanished… or didn’t exist in the first place?

I shook Mosey awake. “Let’s go investigate that museum.”

A crowd had gathered at the entrance with a guard at the door. He seemed like he knew stuff, so I asked him, “Where is the 221B address? I checked all the shops and it doesn’t exist.”

The guard laughed. “It’s a mystery even Holmes himself would struggle to solve.” Read More

Review – Arm & Hammer SLIDE Cat Litter

I mentioned on Twitter that I was tired of chiseling Herman’s cement-like pee from his litter box and was looking for something that wouldn’t stick to the bottom. I’ve been using Tidy Cat clumping litter because it’s 99.9% dust free. Plus the Glade scent isn’t obnoxious.

Anyway, I purchased Arm & Hammer SLIDE cat litter. It was on sale! Now I know why. This stuff is dangerous. My first impression was that it looked like it would damage Herman’s sight if he got it in his eyes. It’s a gray, baby-fine powder comparable to silt. I used it sparingly in his box and yes, it slid right out. However I saw Dori using the box and she came out coughing violently. She must have coughed for five minutes straight. Clearly she’d inhaled it.

So this morning the Arm & Hammer SLIDE slid into the trash, and I bought Arm & Hammer Naturals on the recommendation of a guy in the cat food asile at Target. He was buying two bags. Said it didn’t stick to the bottom of the litter boxes. But … gads! It’s got a powerful scent.

Here’s a tip, Arm & Hammer. Go easy on the purrrr-fume. If I’m gagging on the scent, my cats will likely pass out.


#SundaySelfie with Candy

Candy is about 2 years old, and has been with us since June 2016. She is another refugee from the neighborhood cat colony. I’m so blessed that Noah, a handsome black cat who sadly went OTRB this past spring, brought her to me. It breaks my heart that so many are in need of a Forever Home. I’m now absolutely maxed out at adopting as I now care for 13. But I wouldn’t turn away anyone who is hungry or needs medical care.

Candy is our Social Director. She is friendly to all, and as you can see…she is a beautiful accent to any decor!

Sherlock Herms Master Detective – Part 2

Previously on Sherlock Herms Master Detective – Part 1.

Mosey shivered, then quivered. And then he shook like a wet dog, all the while bouncing around my office. As the nylon tunnel glowed in the attic’s shadowy darkness, I watched it grow bigger … or maybe I was shrinking. Either way, Mosey rolled toward it.

“Haalllp!” Dori screamed, still determined to say her lines. “He’s being eaten!” And then she was gone. And Opie and Jack were gone. So was my desk, my interrogation corner, my piggy bank and collection of trucker magazines.

My ears hurt from the wind-whooshing sound that surrounded me, and the dazzling button lights on the control panel captivated me unlike catnip or any feathery toy I’d ever played with. But I now knew better not to stare. I got yelled at the first time.

As Mosey rocked and rolled from side to side, then flipped upside down, then right-side up, I hunkered under my mint chip cushion to ride it out. I wasn’t afraid. I felt exhilarated! I was going to meet Sherlock Holmes who would hopefully teach me to be a Master Detective just like him.

I just hoped Dr. Watson didn’t get upset and think I was trying to replace him as Holmes’ sidekick… although I wouldn’t say ‘no’ if Holmes asked.

Eventually the sound around me changed from whooshing to sucking, kinda like I was being squeezed from a tube of Laxatone.


When Mosey stopped shaking I threw aside the cushion to see we were rolling along a smooth pavement with dark shops lining the otherwise empty street on either side. It was nighttime, and the air smelled damp and foreign with a lingering odor of stinky fish. Read More

#RememberMeThursday – Frank

Amazing what love and the promise of never giving up on someone can do to turn a life around.  Meet Frank, my five-year-old tough-tabby-turned-soft-hearted-sweetiepie.

Frank showed up in early spring 2014, acting tough, showing off his man pride with tail held high. I’ve never met a stray like Frank, which is why of all the 70+ strays I’ve rescued throughout my adult lifetime, I’ve picked Frank to feature on Remember Me Thursday.

When Frank first arrived in my yard he was determined to destroy Joshua, a sickly ginger stray who later passed from feline leukemia. Frank was Angry! And he was determined to kick someone’s tail, mine included. Three years later I still have a vivid memory of battling Frank back with a broom to keep him from ripping into Joshua. I kept sweeping Frank back while poor Josh cowered behind me. Finally Frank turned on me, but again I swept him back until finally…with a huge sigh…he slumped to the ground. I asked if he wanted lunch–he did–and trotted dog-like beside me up to the house.

First bed in garage. Catnip mouse gift from NerissaTheCat.

Garage bed and kitchenette.

Frank’s history is a mystery, but clearly he’s never had a home. I’m certain he’s come close a few times, as he took to Rescued Life with such relief that IT had finally happened. But it was touch and go for a time, never knowing when he would go from gentle to feral. My Garage Band, Nikolas and Jesse, never really liked each other, but they bonded in mutual dislike of Frank. For the first year I hovered over him to make sure he wouldn’t fight and injure my other cats. Frank was big and strong…and could do some serious damage. Read More

Winner of Finding Mya Book

Finding Mya CoverThree years ago this month me and my mom published our book, FINDING MYA – He Can’t Live Happily Ever After Without Her.

It’s a 5-Star book on Amazon.com, with the art work for picture map illustrations provided by our friend Mya Campbell who was 8-years-old at the time.

To celebrate, we decided to give away a copy. All you had to do was leave a comment to enter.

So, without further adieu…



In case you’re new to our blog and don’t know about FINDING MYA , here’s what the story is all about:

Eight-year-old Mya has a magical relationship with her grandma’s foster kitten, Herman. They can talk to each other. Not with words. With tickle thoughts! They plan to live together, but then the worst happens. Mya’s vacation ends and Herman is given to a woman whose dog treats cats like chew toys. He escapes danger, but the road to finding Mya is scary and tough. She promised to leave picture-maps along the way to her home. All Herman has to do is follow them and he will live Happily Ever After in her arms. It’s a wonderful plan. Too bad it goes wrong right from the start.

Here’s a scene from a chapter called DUMPSTER DIVING where raccoon brothers Danny and Huck teach me how to find food cuz I was starving. Read More

#SundaySelfie with Chevy

Meet Chevy, the last refugee from a nearby cat colony to join the Wonderpurr Gang this past spring. He’s about 2 years old, and unfortunately FIV+.

Clearly Chevy has never had a home. He’s rather clueless about certain behavior protocols…like grabbing my ankles to stop me from leaving. But he’s learning. Not only is his fellow garage cats, Nikolas and Jesse, teaching Chevy about the proper way to behave, but Mr. Squirt Bottle has also been an effective teacher.

Happy 1st Day of Autumn

We did it! We suffered through Summertime 2017 and we survived! Not without a lot of growling and hissing cuz… hoomidity is poo poo. But that’s all behind us now.

To me Autumn means trees changing into their best finery of gold, orange and red. It means waiting for those leaves to fall on the ground so I can jump into them and make leaf angels.

Autumn means the aroma of pumpkins, cider, fresh hot donuts with a sprinkling of cinnamon sugar. The air is turning crisp and kinda peppery. And we get to have the windows open.

Octopurr is my favorite Autumn month. Hay rides. Corn mazes. Singing around a campfire while roasting marshymallows and telling spooky stories. Octopurr ends with the bestest holiday ev-ver… Halloween. So excited. Can’t wait to pick out my costume for this year’s trick or treating.

What does Autumn mean to you?

Happy Fall Ya’ll!


Sherlock Herms in… The Making of a Master Detective

My name is Sherlock Herms. It is my business to know what others don’t know. Unfortunately, I’m pretty sure my business is all in my head and I might be borderline schizo. I have no idea what’s going on.

As I lay in the dark on my attic office sofa, my mind replayed what I had to assume was a nightmare.

I’d dreamed we’d lost our home when I allowed a teevee celebrity ghost hunter named Ghost Guy into our house and he’d summoned enough demons to force us to flee. Okay. It was really Dori who did that, but I accept the blame. I could have scratched the dood and sent him on his way, but I didn’t.

We’d moved north to a town called Welcome Home located in the Mitten State. There I met a pretty ghost named Dottie Kiss who loved to wear polka dots and had been murdered by her sister Patty who buried her in a grave with their grandmother, Violet. When confronted with proof Patty retaliated by setting our new home on fire.

“This is your fault, Sherlock,” Dad had snarled at me in my dream. “If you hadn’t poked your pink nose into Patty Kiss’s business, our home wouldn’t be on fire. You’re responsible for this.”

“You took playing detective too far,” Peaches said and Chauncie Marie added, “What a failure you are, Herman.”

I’d buried my face in my paws while all around me were the sounds of my life going up in flames. “I never meant for this to happen,” I’d cried. “I didn’t want to be a purranormal detective, but everyone said I had to help Dottie.”

“You’re a failure,” Frank growled. “Because of you we are now homeless!”

Dori howled. “We are homeless. All because of yoo, Hwermie. All because of yoo!”

“All because of you, Herman,” Mom said, her voice heavy with grief. “All because of you!”

Sobbing my little heart out, I ran to my Guardian Angel, Charley Feeble. “The h-house is b-burning and everyone blames me,” I’d wept in my dream. “I didn’t know Patty would b-burn the house down. I didn’t know.” I pawed away my tears to look into his eyes, but what I saw wasn’t the kind squinty Charley eyes I’d come to know and love. Now his eyes were hard and angry.

“It is your fault,” he told me. “You messed up. You put your family in danger.”

“But I didn’t mean to,” I yowled, heartbroken that my mentor had also turned on me. “Oh Charley. Not you too. Everyone is mad at me. Nobody loves me any more.” As my family and Charley surrounded me with mad faces, I’d hid my face in my paws. “This is a nightmare! A horrible, horrible nightmare!”

I felt a kick to my shins and with a gasp I stared into the squinty eyes of my sweet little sister and partner in the Wonderpurr Detective Agency. “Just like hoomons…you dissy-point me, Hwermie.” Dori kicked me again, and punched my arm. Even in my dream she packed a wallop. “Yoo did a bad thing, Hwermie. Bad, Hwermie!”

As I watched her prepare for another roundhouse punch, I gasped and fell backwards. As I fell, I realized that I was falling into a deep dark pit, about six feet deep. There I lay looking up at the stormy sky at the top of the pit. As the faces of my family crowded around the opening, I realized I was not alone. I was inside the grave with Violet and Dottie, and both were wearing mad faces. Read More

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