cat mysteries

1
Sherlock Herms in… Heaven Can Wait – Part 2
2
Sherlock Herms in… Heaven Can Wait
3
Sherlock Herms in … Under the Couch
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Sherlock Herms in… Behind the Bookcase
5
Sherlock Herms in… Monkey Business
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Honored to be Among the 36 Top Cats of Twitter
7
Sherlock Herms in… Rejected!
8
A Weekend of Skullduggery
9
Sherlock Herms in… Where’s Charley?
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Sherlock Herms in The Art of Surveillance

Sherlock Herms in… Heaven Can Wait – Part 2

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Previously on Sherlock Herms…Heaven Can Wait – Part 1.

“Nooo!” Dori howled. Tears wetted her whiskers.

“What?” I ran to her. “What’s wrong?”

She pointed to the couch. “My tweats are gone. The couch monster eated them—again!”

We stared at the darkness under my couch. Then…

burp-couch

Dori flung herself at the couch. “Yoo gimme back my tweats! I need to review them for Chewy.com.”

I went to pull Dori off the couch. No telling what kind of mood the couch monster was in. He’d been pretty passive, but…

From the corner of my eye I saw something move, and turned just as Evil Paranormal Stuff fell to the floor from the third shelf on my bookcase. Frozen with fear, I forgot Dori and her couch nemesis as I watched the bookcase shake like it was under attack.

Oh My Cod! The demon Loud Lady was trying to escape!

I felt Dori’s claws in my neck as she wrapped herself around me. Together we widdled our floofy britches. That was a mistake. Before our eyes the demon grew scarier and stronger from our reaction. I had to take control.

“Where is Charley?” I yowled. “Give him back!”

Demon Loud Lady howled from behind the bookcase, causing Dori to climb onto my back and sob.

“You give Charley back,” I snarled. “He wants to go to Heaven!”

“Heaven can wait!” Loud Lady screamed. “I have your precious Charley in Hell!”

And then she stuck her arm right out of the bookcase!

demon-loud-lady-behind-bookcase-reduced

And now…Part 2

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Sherlock Herms in… Heaven Can Wait

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heaven-can-wait-promoI sat brooding in my attic office with my back to the seething bookcase. My snake-necked lamp splashed weak light onto my huge desk, causing eerie shadows to surround me. The atmosphere fit my mood. It had been weeks since my Bakelite phone with the rotary dial last rang. Was I a washed-up has-been after only two cases?

My name is Sherlock Herms. It is my business to know what others don’t know. But since my phone isn’t ringing, clearly everyone knows everything so I’m not needed for nuffin’.

Actually I think Charley unplugged my phone until I got my focus issues under control. No sense taking more cases if I can’t see the clues right under my whiskers. Read More

Sherlock Herms in … Under the Couch

under-the-couch

Previously on Sherlock Herms…Behind the Bookcase.

“I need to show yoo something.” Dori grabbed her favorite cuddle blanket from the living room couch and wrapped it around her before crawling up the stairs to my office.

The minute I opened the door I sensed something was wrong. My Ride was huddled in the corner, whimpering like a scared puppy. When it saw me it ran over my foot with its anxiousness to be comforted. As I rubbed my foot and petted my Ride’s green mint chip dotted hood, my attention zeroed in on my mom’s bookcase in the corner. The shelves are crammed with books about authoring mysteries, books about detecting stuff, and books about ghosts. Behind it is a secret staircase. In 1945 the stairs led down to a yard with a swimmy pool that no longer existed. Seventy some years into the future, the bookcase hid the stairs to nowhere…except now bright light was flowing out from behind it.

Last week I’d been chatting with Charley when the bright light pushed the bookcase away from the stairs to flood my office. Charley had reacted with surprise and defiance. Someone beyond the light had called to him, but he refused to go. “I—I didn’t expect to be summoned so soon,” he’d told me, looking a little shook up. “I thought I had more time.”  Read More

Sherlock Herms in… Behind the Bookcase

behind-the-bookcase

Previously on Sherlock Herms… Monkey Business!

Dori asked, “Did yoo know about writing children’s books when Mom wrote Finding Mya?”

I thought about it. “No.”

“Did yoo know about family dysfunction and Christmas folklore when she wrote Kringle?”

I swallowed hard. “No!” Feeling a panic attack coming on, I grabbed my floofy tail for something to hold onto. “Does this mean I haven’t been her mews all along?”

Dori placed her paws on either side of my face. “It means all yoo have to be is you in order to inspire her stowies. That’s all a mews does.”

“Well said, my little sweetheart.” Charley sat on the sunroom couch, smiling.

I stared at them both. “But… I have inattentional blindness! And you’re wrong, Charley. It is a disease. It has 99,500 links listed on Google. It’s a full-blown epidemic. I can never be like Sherlock Holmes if I have a disease!”

Charley sighed. “Herman, only Holmes can be Holmes.”

Dori tugged on my arm. “Yoo don’t need to be another Shewlock Holmes. Yoor Shewlock Hewms. Not the same. Diffewent.”

“I’m not saying you cannot be a most excellent detective,” Charley continued, but I’d tuned him out. Dori too. Clearly the ability to pay attention to one thing at a time applies to listening as well.

With the hum of Charley’s and Dori’s voices shifted to background noise…like the dishwasher running… I turned back to the window to focus on the bird sitting on the birdbath. Then I shifted my attention to Candy’s reflection in the glass.

I saw Candy stretch her legs as she sighed in her sleep.

I saw Dori exchanging opinions with Charley as to why I should give up my dream of being like Sherlock Holmes.

Something caught my attention. Charley looked solid to me. Not ghost-like, as though he was still alive.

I also saw something in the window’s reflection that made the fur on my neck stand up! Read More

Sherlock Herms in… Monkey Business

Monkey Business

Previously on Sherlock Herms… Rejected!

“Herman,” Charley said. “You live in a world hampered by inattentional blindness. So highly distracted by everything—your ability to focus on any one thing at a time is impossible. To clarify what I mean by inattentional blindness… It’s like scrolling through Bookface and not seeing the advertisements on the side of your page. They’re there. You just had your attention focused on the latest Aaron’s Animals video…”

I smiled with sudden joy. “I wuv Aaron’s Animals videos. Didja see the one called Fast & Furryest where…”

Charley’s gaze drifted over my shoulder. As his squinty eyes widened behind his glasses, I turned to see what had distracted him.

In the corner of my office is a bookcase where my mom keeps her research library. The shelves are crammed with books about authoring mysteries, books about detecting stuff, and books about ghosts. During my last case when I met Charley (read my case notes on Mrs. Shallowford’s Ghost by clicking here) I learned there was a secret staircase hidden behind the bookcase. I’d zoomed down that staircase with Dori to escape being seen by the demon known as Loud Lady. Back in 1945 it led into the garden with a swimmy pool and pool house (where Charley died) that no longer existed.

Brilliant light now seeped from behind the bookcase. With wonder I watched as it slowly creaked open to reveal the secret staircase. As it opened the brilliant light burst into my office, blinding me with its…um…brilliance.

Charley with bookcase
A sudden icy chill stabbed my shoulder, making me turn to see Charley had reached out to touch me. His attention was on the staircase. He couldn’t take his eyes off it. I, however, flicked a desperate look at my Ride, quivering in the corner. Had I left my sunglasses in the pocket? I thought about fetching them when Charley suddenly moaned, “No! Not yet. I’m not ready to go.”

What the Friskies! Read More

Honored to be Among the 36 Top Cats of Twitter

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I got quite a surprise yesterday when Rascal, Kobe and Cecil – aka @3coolkatz – told me I was included among the 36 Top Cats of Twitter as featured on The Cat Site.

I joined the Anipal community on October 28, 2011, and my life has been wonderpurr ever since. So blessed to be furends with so many amazing pals and their kindhearted humans.

At first I was just like every other wide-eyed newbie, keeping to the fringe of the community, slowly getting to know the other pals, going to NipClub, and to pawties.

I clearly recall the day I got my 100th follower. I was so happy, I meowed my joy to all of my furends. I was overcome that one hundred pals would care what I had to say…which at the time wasn’t much.

But over the past five years my small world has been opened to know some truly amazing pals who aren’t as fortunate as I am. Pals who are homeless. Pals who are gravely ill. Pals who are lonely and in great need of a furend. I’ve made it my purrsonal quest to befurend the newbies and introduce them around. I remember well how it felt to have a handful of followers, and how important it was to me to see my followers grow. To this day I hold dear in my heart several dozen pals who were with me from the start.

I sincerely appreciate and value every one of my followers…the ones who invite me to interact with them, if only to have a little silly fun. I don’t have as much time as I used to to play on Twitter. I’m working hard now to raise awarness and funds to support FourPawsLifeline.org – the amazing foundation started last year by my beloved Belle’s pawrents. And I’m striving to entertain mew with my new series, Sherlock Herms Purranormal Detective, that appears here on my blog every Friday.

I’m also participating in JDRF One Walk® to raise money that will help create a better future for the millions of people living with type 1 diabetes (T1D). I’ll be walking…Rolling! on October 1st in Memphis, TN. If you have a spare dollar you’d like to donate to my walk, I’d truly be grateful. My little sisfur @Adorapurr had made a special mewsic video of her hit song Purrrple Underpants to send as a gift to everyone who donates, no matter what the dollar amount.

Thank you again for being my furend all these years. I mean it from the heart when I say, you all make my heart sing with joy each and every day!

Love you! Purrs! Herman!!!

Herman for JDRF one walk

Sherlock Herms in… Rejected!

Cover for Rejected
I held the copy of my letter in my paws. What did I do wrong?

I’d started over eight times. Mom always says first impressions are lasting impressions. I’d wanted my letter to be purrfect. I’d hoped that if he liked what I wrote, he would want to meet me in purrrson. Maybe even solve a case with me.

Dear Mr. Holmes,

I wanted to introduce myself since we are in the same business of detecting stuff. I am Sherlock Herms of the Wonderpurr Detective Agency. I have one assistant, like you do with Watson…only my assistant is my little sisfur, Dori. I don’t suppose you’ve ever had to take your little sisfur on a caper. Anyway! We just solved our first case. It had ghosts that needed to be busted. We were paid two huge quarters. Have you ever solved a case with ghosts? Just wondering. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.

I’m a huge fan of yours. I watched one of your hissstorical doc-mew-mentaries last night on teevee to pick up tips on solving cases. Maybe someday when I get real good at solving cases myself, you and me could maybe get together… Discuss stuff. Or maybe not if you’re real busy. You probably are, so…

Maybe if you have an extra picture of yourself lying around, you could pawtograph it for me. I would hang it over my desk and look at it all the time for inspurration. But if you don’t have time to have your picture taken…or don’t want to just because… I understand.

Countless weeks had passed since I’d mailed my fan letter business correspondence to my hero. Sherlock Holmes had to be back from his case by now. He had to have gone through his stack of mail. He had to have seen my letter. Unless the mail carrier had gone postal and flung my letter into the River Thames…there was only one conclusion: I’d been rejected. Rejected by my hero. Read More

A Weekend of Skullduggery

TattleCat Chat LogoWell, it was a wonderpurr weekend at my house, the place where I live.

Actually, I didn’t spend my weekend at my house. I spent it cooped up in a hotel suite. And…it actually wasn’t very wonderpurr.

This is what happened:

My mom and her friend, Aunt Linda, went to a mystery writers conference and brought me along cuz… Cuz Dad was in charge back at the house and Mom didn’t think he could hack taking care of all of the Wonderpurr Gang, plus the raccoons, plus give me my special diet noms and health supplements.

Besides, why would my author mom leave me, her mews, at home when she’s going to a writers conference?

The thing was… This was a writers conference. Not Blogpaws. And troofully, I wasn’t supposed to be in the hotel cuz of the rule where they used to allow pets but then changed their minds. What the Friskies! How rude!

We packed up the Land Yacht on Thursday and headed out with me riding in either Mom’s lap or Aunt Linda’s. I had my commode and bed in the back, plus Dori packed me a box of refreshments to nom. It was nearing dark when we arrived at the hotel. Usually I jump into my Ride and zoom through the front door, but this time Mom informed me a little skullduggery would be involved. Since I’m now a hardboiled detective with grit in his blood, this sounded right up my alley.

After checking in at the front desk, Mom and Aunt Linda grabbed a baggage cart and brought it out to where I was manning the getaway car. My litter box was disguised as a huge black trash bag. So was my pet stairs. The rest was either in suitcases or moving boxes. After everything was placed on the cart, I was loaded into a pink pet carrier that resembled a duffel bag and set on the top, looking like an ordinary piece of luggage. This is when the excitement started.

The cart was possessed by a demon. I know it was cuz I’m not only a hardboiled detective with grit in my blood, but I’m also a purranormal investigator. I know about ghosts and demons and stuff.

Anyway, that demon jerked the cart to the right and to the left. No matter how hard Mom and Aunt Linda tried to steer it straight, the cart had other ideas. Meanwhile, I’m inside the pink duffel bag getting ready to urp my last meal.

Finally, we got into the elevator and rode up to our floor. Thank Cat the other guests were busy fooling around in their rooms or drinking in the bar. Nobody saw nuffin!

Once inside the room, I was released from my duffel bag and my litter box and refreshment stand was set up. I got a nice bed on the couch. And that’s where my excitement ended.

After Aunt Linda put the Do Not Disturb sign on the door, Mom turned on the teevee to the Summer Olympics for me to watch while they were at the workshops. With nothing else to do besides pee and poop and eat…I slept. B-O-R-R-R-I-N-G. Sorry, but the only sport I found remotely inpurresting was when the girls waved ribbons on a stick. Otherwise, it was a total snoozefest.

Herman in hotel suite

I wasn’t even allowed to patrol the halls, like I usually do at Blogpaws. And when it came time to eat, I had to deal with leftovers. I tried to find the phone to order room service, but my mom is a sneaky pete and hid it on me. So I had to pretend like I was grateful for the cold greasy bacon and the French dip without the dip she brought me.

I guess more than being disgusted with the teevee programming, no room service, and not getting to zoom the halls…I was pretty ticked off about not going to the conference. These were my hoomons! Mystery writers. Hardboiled crime detective writers. I wanted to rub elbows with them. I wanted to sidled up to the bar with the big names and toss back a few shots of purrbon on ice, looking all brooding and mysterious.

Prefer claws

But no. I was treated like an ordinary cat. And we all know there is nothing ordinary about me.

After three very loooong days, I was sprung from my luxury prison. The idea was to grab a luggage cart, load it up like when we arrived, and run out to the getaway car. However, when my mom and aunt discovered that the hotel bellhops wouldn’t let the luggage carts out of their sight cuz…tips… Plan B was put into action.

Plan B went like this:

It was a dark and stormy morning. The sky was pitch black and the rain came down sideways in sheets. Great time to leave the hotel, eh? My hoomons packed everything up, including disguising my commode and pet stairs in their huge black trash bag costumes and sweeping the rug of litter crumbs. They even bagged their trash since maid service had not been welcomed since we arrived. When the room looked pretty spiffy, Mom loaded me into my pink duffel bag, and Aunt Linda grabbed my pet stairs, and we headed out for the Land Yacht. But…when we got to the elevator, it was pretty crowded. We squeezed in so as to not look suspicious, although I overheard Aunt Linda tell Mom that one of the men in the back kept eyeing the pink duffel.

Just between you and me, I’d pawed a zipper open so I could see out with one eye…

Upon reaching the first floor, we hustled out the side door into the storm. The parking lot puddles splashed around my hoomon’s ankles while I snuggled high and dry in the duffel. I was dumped like a sack full of dirty laundry in the back. Mom jumped into the driver’s seat while Aunt Linda ran back to get the bellhop. She took him up to the room to load up, while we pulled around to the entrance. After our stuff was loaded into the back, we pulled away, then parked around the corner so I could be released from my pink prison and my commode could be released from its trash bag disguise.

We rode home without much ado. Life is like that. A lot of prep work and run around…then nuffin.

Anyway, I didn’t get much out of the conference, but my mom got to meet her author idol, Janet Brockovich. Um… Erin Evanovich? Whatever! I didn’t get to meet her, so I’m not impressed.

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Do you ever travel with your hoomons? Have you ever been sneaked into a hotel? Details! I want details! Thank you so much for stopping by. Please remember to come back on Friday. Friday is Sherlock Herms Day!

Purrs! Herman!!!

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Sherlock Herms in… Where’s Charley?

Title Where's Charley

“Hurry up!” I shouted to my fur sibs. “We’re gonna be late!”

“We can’t be late,” Opie contradicted. “A picnic starts when we get there.”

“The picnic starts when we open the picnic basket,” Dori corrected. She had a package of Smittens in her paws. I doubt her tummy is ever empty.

Hi! I’m Herman, a Turkish Angora known as @TattleCat on Twitter. I help my author mom write books, and I purrformed in the 5-star children’s book, FINDING MYA. When Mom decided to write mysteries, I opened the Wonderpurr Detective Agency to learn about the hardboiled crime business. Then I got my first case. It involved busting ghosts. That’s how I got to be the almost-famous purranormal detective known as Sherlock Herms.

I flicked my floofy tail with impatience. Not for the picnic to start…although the aroma of the fried chicken my sisfur Gidget had prepared was making me drool. No, I was impatient to get to the woods where my friend Charley was waiting for us to find him.

Charley Feeble wasn’t exactly lost. You see, seventy-some years ago he was a detective known as Maxwell Shallowford. Charley has some kind of phobia that makes him so shy, he pretends to be someone else. I met Charley during my second case, Mrs. Shallowford’s Ghost. Charley was the ghost. He died from heart failure caused by a demon masquerading as a crabby lady with a loud voice. To better understand what I’m meowing about, you’re welcome to review my case notes for Mrs. Shallowford’s Ghost.

Since Charley is dead…he can no longer work as a hardboiled detective, so he’s teaching me the biz. He said he would also teach me about the spirit world, but we weren’t learning about ghosts today. Last Friday Charley gave me a lesson on Surveillance. Today I’m taking my fursibs into the woods to have a picnic, and while we’re there we’re going to hunt for Charley. Read More

Sherlock Herms in The Art of Surveillance

COVER Lessons with CharleyHi everyone!

Concatulations, you made it to Friday!

In case you aren’t aware, Friday is Sherlock Herms Day when I invite you to join me on one of my purranormal mystery adventures.

Sometimes my phone doesn’t ring, and that means I’m in-between cases.

Like now.

So, while I wait for my phone to ring, my new friend Charley has volunteered to teach me about the private hardboiled detective business. And also about purranormal investigating.

You’re welcome to join me. Today’s Lesson with Charley is on the Art of Surveillance.

Herman mailbox 1

Herman mailbox 2 Read More

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