Herman TattleCat

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#SundaySelfie – Halloween Herman!!!
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Sherlock Herms Master Detective – Part 6
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Ain’t We A-Doll-able?
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#SundaySelfie with Elly
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Sherlock Herms Master Detective – Part 5
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Sherlock Herms Master Detective – Part 4
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Meow Go Blue!
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Sherlock Herms Master Detective – Part 3
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Sherlock Herms Master Detective – Part 2
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Winner of Finding Mya Book

#SundaySelfie – Halloween Herman!!!

Hi pals! Sadly it’s that time of year again when our Moms and Dads think it’s “cute” to dress us in Halloween costumes.

Like we are really going to go door to door, begging.

Well, maybe my doggy furends might go begging, but I don’t know one member of the Finicky Feline Society who would beg inside their homes, much less go door to door.

With that said… *big sigh* Here’s my Sunday Selfie as a fweakin’ peacock.

P.S. Don’t you dare laff at me. I haz claws and know how to use them. Kinda. Sorta.

Herman: Hey Dori! Whatcha think of my Halloween costume? I’m a Peacock!

Dori: Can I be honest?

Herman: Well… I guess.

Dori: *whispurrs* Yoo look silly.

Herman: Mom said I looked cute.

Dori: Same thing!

Herman: *sighs* Happy Halloween, pals!

Sherlock Herms Master Detective – Part 6

Previously on Sherlock Herms: The Making of a Master Detective…

 Part 1.   Part 2.   Part 3.   Part 4.  Part 5.

Fergus stared at me with wide eyes. “Hello? Did you just wee on my master’s chair?”

My ears burned hot pink with embarrassment. “I-I did.”

“I would have excused you to the loo, if you had only asked,” the dog told me, his tone filled with shock and… perhaps a hint of amusement.

“You were fighting with Mosey. I didn’t know how to stop you from hurting each other.”

Fergus’s bushy white brows rose. “So you shook your tail onto the Jean Avisse signed hand-carved Bergère French armchair?” He rolled onto his back, barking out loud with laughter. “I’m liking you more and more, Herman.”

I felt relieved that Fergus wasn’t angry, but I also felt numb with worry. Mosey had freaked after being attacked by the dog and hightailed it out of the house…and out of this century, leaving me stranded in 1894.

What was I going to do? Was I doomed to remain in the past? What would Mom say when she found out I was missing? Would she think I’d run away? I felt my lower lip quiver as hot tears blurred my vision. I would never see my Mom again! Unable to stop them, tears rolled down my whiskers. I covered my eyes and sobbed into my paws. I didn’t care what Fergus thought of me. I was scared.

“Why did you fight with Mosey?”

I felt his paw awkwardly pat my back. “It’s a dog thing. You wouldn’t understand. There, there. You can live here with me. You can even share my bed by the fire.”

His niceness made me sob all the harder. “I miss my meowmy!”

Fergus led me back to his bed where he barked an order to Mrs. Gray to place more logs on the fire. Seeing I was upset, the housekeeper brought me a bowl of cream. Nice gesture but…

“I can’t drink milk. I’m lactose intolerable.”

Fergus and Mrs. Gray both crooked their heads to one side. “What is…lactose?” they asked in unison.

“Milk products,” I explained. “They make me frow up.”

Mrs. Gray quickly removed the bowl of cream. She already had the hand-carved Bergère French armchair to clean. Instead she fed me tiny morsels of a poultry product I didn’t recognize, but Fergus said was guinea fowl.

“Is it free-range? Organic?” I asked Mrs. Gray, who looked at Fergus with concern.

“Your guest has strange food requirements for a cat.”

“What is strange?” I asked them.

“Cats typically eat vermin,” she said. “Mice. Rats. Magpies. Squirrels. Pigeons. Doves. Rabbits.”

“Is Vermin a high-quality pet food company like Blue or Hills? Does Magpie come in both pate and kibble?” Read More

Ain’t We A-Doll-able?

There I was…nomming my lunch…when suddenly I realized I wasn’t alone.

What the Friskies!!! Was I dreaming?

“Excuse me,” I sez to the dood. “Do I know you?” He looked kinda familar.

But he didn’t smell familiar.

Still he was kinda handsome…in that strong silent kind of way.

Dori: Hwermie! Yoo got cloned!

Herman: Cloned! Yowwww!

Dori: Oh look! I haz a dolly too. Isn’t she cuuuute?

Herman: What do you mean, doll?

Dori: Mom sent our pictures to Judy Nunn at Felt 2 Rescue and she made us into dolls.

Herman: Wow! I look really good as a doll.

Dori: I know just the pikchure Mom sent to Miz Judy to use for making your dolly.

Herman: I love my dolly’s floofy tail.

Dori: Look. Yoor dolly even has yoor cute lil pink toes!

Dori: My dolly looks so much like the photo Mom sent to Miz Judy.

Judy Nunn has made one of a kind wool sculpted creations for years. On January 1, 2015 she began selling them with all of the profits donated to animal welfare. She has a list of charities she prefers to donate to. We picked Blind Cat Rescue.

For more information about Judy’s wonderpurr works of art…and to order your own (be patient, there is a long line ahead of you) go to Facebook https://www.facebook.com/Felt2Rescue. Or, if you don’t have a Facebook account, contact me and I will give you Judy’s phone number.

Thank you Miz Judy for making our dolls. Our mom will cherish them Furever!

 

#SundaySelfie with Elly

Wonderpurr Gang membership was closed. I wasn’t in the market to feed another stray cat, much less adopt one. I’d maxed out past my usual ten. Ten seems to be my number. It fluxuates between 8 and 10, but whenever there is a vacancy…there is always someone on my porch ready to fill the opening.

Noah brought Elly to me this past spring. I didn’t realize she would be his last gift to me. He’d already brought me Candy the spring before. Noah had feline leukemia and passed shortly after.

Sad to say, Elly is FIV+. However I took her to my new vet who said she was sweet and wouldn’t pass the virus through fighting. After being vaccinated and spayed, I took her home where she was caged until healed. Meanwhile she had a reunion with Candy. Clearly they knew each other! And my other cats seemed interested in her, in a good way.

I did put Elly outside, and watched her run to the tree where I used to feed her along side Noah. But Noah wasn’t there…and she eventually returned to the door to come inside.

She’s been inside ever since.

Elly is gorgeous. She’s friendly. Best friends with Candy, and wants to be friends with Dori who is jealous that she has competition with HER BFF Candy.

Sherlock Herms Master Detective – Part 5

Previously on Sherlock Herms Master Detective…

 Part 1.   Part 2.   Part 3.   Part 4.

Satiated by the delicious sammiches served by Mrs. Gray for tea, Fergus and I lay side by side on his cushy bed in front of a blazing hearth fire. ‘Life’s darkest moment,’ one publication called Sherlock Holmes’ death,” the dog told me. “One of the letters my master received was from a woman who called him a Brute! Still another woman Doyle met on the street struck him with her handbag. Twenty thousand furious readers cancelled their subscriptions to The Strand that published Sherlock Holmes. That nearly bankrupted the magazine. Londoners wore black to express their mourning. The Prince of Wales is still upset. The day the story broke of Holmes’ death, the headlines read, “Tragic Death of Mr. Sherlock,” as if he were flesh and blood–not print and imagination.”

“So I’m not the only one who thought he was real.” My ears still warmed with embarrassment that I’d never suspected Sherlock Holmes to be a fictional character.

“I dare say, the World suffers for heroes to pin their hopes and dreams on,” Fergus replied. “Although I am bewildered as to why the World would choose to make a hero out of such a narrow-minded, self-centered, barely likeable hoomon with an addictive personality.” The dog glanced over at me. “What made you so infatuated with him that you chose to emulate him?”

I flicked through my recall of what my Word of the Day calendar said ‘emulate’ meant before I replied, “He knows almost everything about pawfessional detecting. That’s impressive.”

“Yet he’s indifferent about everything else,” Fergus countered. “Lit-tra-chure. Philosophy. Poly-ticks. Sex!”

“You’re his creator,” I told the dog. “Why did you make him like that?”

“I suppose that was my flaw as Doyle’s muse. I allowed him to focus too hard on Holmes using his eyes and brains to solve cases. It didn’t occur to me that he would become shallow in all other hoomon respects.”

“Well, you aren’t a hoomon,” I pointed out.

“This is true.”

“Thank Cod!” we said in unison…then laughed with newfound companionship. Read More

Sherlock Herms Master Detective – Part 4

Previously on Sherlock Herms Master Detective – Part 1Part 2. Part 3.

I don’t recall how I ended up in front of the fireplace warming my whiskers. There’s a good chance that after I heard the dog’s shocking news—I fainted. I know. Not very Master Detective behavior. But ex-cuuuuuse me! I’d just learned my hero had been murdered.

“You’ve done more than just missed Sherlock Holmes,” the dog had told me. “Sherlock Holmes is dead. Doyle killed him!”

The dog introduced himself as Fergus. Or maybe Farkus. Or … Fairrr-gus. He had a thick accent that was hard for my Ameowican ears to understand. Plus, I was in shock.

Sherlock Holmes was dead! As tears burned my eyes, I turned my back on the dog. I didn’t want him to see me sob my little heart out.

What would Watson do when he heard this tragic news? Would he track down the scoundrel Doyle to seek revenge? Would he give up detecting, go back to doctoring? Or… would he be in the market for a new Master Detective partner… like me?

I felt the dog’s paw on my back, petting me softly. “Yur takin’ the news a bit hard, laddie.”

“I c-can’t believe he’s… gone!” I wiped my eyes with my floofy tail, resisting the urge to blow my nose cuz… gross. “How did it happen? During his last case?”

The dog shocked me by laughing. “Well, it would be his last case since he died, wouldn’t it?” Read More

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!

Herman!!!

 

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

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.

POP!

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

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…

THE WINNER IS…

TIMMY TOMCAT

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

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