Tag Archives: kitten adoption

Furbaby Friday With Laurie Ryan


I’m happy to have Laurie Ryan here to share her awesome furbaby and contemporary romance. Northern Lights, with us.

Laurie:

Hi, everyone! And many thanks to Beth for having me here to chat about our furbaby. My husband and I have been privileged to have some pretty awesome animals during our time together. Three of them, a husky named Taschia, a poodle mix called Puddles (picked that up during potty training and it stuck), and a cat named Screamer (again, appropriately named). They were raised together and mostly got along. And the year we lost all three of these members of our family was pretty rough. In fact, we went about five years with no pets because of that.

By then, though, we couldn’t stand it any longer. We put the word out that we were looking for a cat. Interestingly enough, one came our way within a week. A friend of our son’s called to say she’d rescued a stray. She caught some guys (who will be featured as the villains in one of my books eventually) who were throwing this teeny-tiny kitten up, trying to land it on the roof of a building! She grabbed the frightened kitten and sent the villains packing.

And that’s how Dude came to live with us. Remember that “appropriate naming” thing above? This was our first male pet since hubby and I were kids, and we kept saying “she” and “her.” So we named him Dude. And the name is soooo right for this cat. He’s the most laid back pet we’ve ever owned. Loves everyone, loves naps, loves to eat, and rarely gets riled. Well, unless a dog or another cat come on the property

 

His lazy—I mean, laid back lifestyle is probably why he’s been stable for several years at seventeen pounds. He’s a hefty boy, loves to cuddle under my chin, and watches bird videos on you tube. And he’s brought us so much joy in these last ten years. I can’t imagine life without our Dude.

Beth: I love this cat!

Northern Lights:

Finding love in the heart of Alaska.

When New York CEO Renzo Gallini shows up with papers saying he owns the waystation Jess lives and breathes for, she laughs in his face. But things get tense when he’s got the paperwork to prove it…and her father, who apparently signed her home away, is nowhere to be found.

Alaskan native Jess Jenkins has lived most of her life at Last Chance Camp, a man’s world where femininity is relegated to wisps of time behind closed doors. Yet she’s proud of what they’ve built here. Last Chance is all she needs to be happy and no amber-eyed city-boy will convince her otherwise.

Ren left New York on his mother’s foolish errand, to turn an Alaskan truck stop into a vacation destination. He finds little of merit in the wide spot in the road until the small community, led by a fiercely loyal tomboy, shows him there’s more to Alaska than just ruts in the road. That survival depends not just on good planning, but on each other. And love can be found in places where you least expect it.
All buy links can be found here: https://books2read.com/NorthernLights

About the author:

Laurie Ryan writes fantasy and contemporary romance. Growing up a devoted reader, Laurie Ryan immersed herself in the diverse works of authors like Tolkien and Woodiwiss. She is passionate about every aspect of a book: beginning, middle, and end. She can’t arrive to a movie five minutes late, has never been able to read the end of a book before the beginning, and is a strong believer in reading the book before seeing the movie.
Laurie lives in the beautiful Pacific Northwest, in the shadow of Mt. Rainier and a short drive to beach-walking next to the Pacific Ocean, with her handsome, he-can-fix-anything husband and their gray, seventeen-pound cat, Dude.

You can find Laurie here:
Website: https://www.laurieryanauthor.com/
Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/beVXAr
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/laurieryanauth/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/lryanauthor
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/laurie.ryan.79

Thanks for stopping by! Please leave Laurie a comment!

Furbaby Friday with P.L. Parker!


I am happy to welcome my friend and fellow author, P. L. Parker, back to the blog to share the wonderful story of her rescue kitty.

P.L. Parker: …and then there was Dorie! Here she is in her favorite spot, relaxing as she checks out her territory.


My parents were notorious for taking care of stray cats, feral or otherwise. It was not unusual for them to have up to 17 cats that they took care of at any given time. Before long, people would hear about the cat man and would drop off unwanted cats nearby and they made their way to Dad and Mom’s place. Eventually, they found a free service that would catch the cats, spay them and then bring them back.
Just a month or so before Dad passed away, this half-grown little female cat showed up at their place. She was nervous but friendly, but she was lucky if she got a bite or too of food before the other cats chased her away. Anyway, Dad paid her special attention because he was sure someone had lost her. He put up signs, contacted the vet clinics and the animal shelter but no one ever came to claim her.
When Dad passed away, we moved Mom from their home in Ontario, Oregon, to Boise and she moved in with my sister. Mom had been confined to wheelchair for many years and my sister became her full-time caregiver. It was a rough time, back and forth to Ontario to take care of their place.
We worried about the cats and a neighbor promised to feed them while we looked for homes, preferably farms since the majority were feral. But then there was Dorie! Mom worried about her so one day I grabbed a pet carrier, drove to Ontario, and caught the little booger. She cried all the way back to Boise but she recognized Mom so she settled into the house pretty quickly.
It wasn’t long before Mom realized Dorie would play fetch. Not only would she retrieve a ball and bring it back and drop it before Mom, but if it wasn’t close enough, Mom would tell her to push it closer and the little girl would do just that! Here is a video of Dorie playing fetch. Watch how she shoves the ball with her paw closer to Mom.

Because of her unusual markings, Dorie is referred to as a “cow” cat, white with black circles around her body. She is a loving little girl, a scamp, a talker and full of hell most of the time, but a really sweet cat. She gave Mom hours of enjoyment before Mom also passed and now my sister loves this little cat dearly, but she loves me too. Whenever I visit, she spends the entire time rubbing against me, giving me kisses and showering me with attention!
Dorie found a place in our hearts and she is here to stay.

Beth: What an adorable kitty!

For more on P.L. Parker visit:

Her Amazon Author Page:  https://www.amazon.com/P.-L.-Parker/e/B002BMIAPM/
www.plparker.com
www.plparker.blogspot.com

Furbaby Comfort in Times of Grief


When the going gets tough.

(Cooper licking my elbow as I type)

Furbabies don’t understand when someone dies. They carry on as usual, but sense something’s wrong. Maybe with cats, it’s because our purr is off, or our auras are. With dogs, it’s our demeanor. They know, without being told a thing. No explanation required. I need that kind of empathy. My younger brother, Chad, died suddenly this past weekend. He’s had immense challenges for years after a tragic skiing accident as a freshman in college left him with a severe head injury. There were close calls since then, accidental overdoses of his seizure med, and choking incidences. But we always got him back, a little worse for wear, but still with us. This time, we didn’t get him back. He’s with God now, freed from his earthly bonds, but my, oh my, how we miss him. Chad was one of the good ones. His challenges didn’t diminish his inner light. It burned brighter.(Image of my sister, Catherine, Beth, brother John, and Chad in glasses)

Chad insisted on living his life as fully as he could after the accident and was an inspiration to many. His warmth and gentle spirit touched all who knew him, as did his love of nature. He spent his last hours (weeks, months) laying stone around the beautiful water garden at his and my parent’s home, a project that brought him much joy. Now, the water garden is his memorial. Chad’s Pond. Stones with inscriptions from friends and family will be laid beside this lovely site. I will help mom plant bulbs and perennials around it–a memorial garden. We found a plant order form he had already filled out, likely with this in mind.

I have admired that water garden often this week. Each time I return home from these bittersweet visits, I’m greeted by an exuberant puppy, ecstatic to see me. After circling the room/house/yard like he’s been shot out of guns,  Cooper calms down and sits not only with me, but on me. This is new. Normally, Kitty Cream sits by my head. Last evening, when I was very sad, he sat on my middle and snuggled close. He’s nearly three and has never done this before. Kitty Peaches hugs me. Jilly sits by my side. Kitty Pavel isn’t a Cooper fan, so he perches overhead on the couch. I am not alone. Furbabies see to that. Where I am, they are.

(Cooper and Jilly)

‘We long for an affection altogether ignorant of our faults. Heaven has accorded this to us in the uncritical canine attachment.’~George Elliot

(Peaches and Cream as kittens)

‘What greater gift than the love of a cat?’ ~Charles Dickens

As every cat owner knows, nobody owns a cat. ~Ellen Perry Berkeley


Peaches and Cream But a number of kitties own me. The latest in my crazy cat lady menagerie are the devious duo, Peaches and Cream. They remind me of the pair of Siamese in the movie Lady and the Tramp. And, in fact, are part Siamese, particularly evident in Cream. (Peaches and Cream looking down from the top of the couch).

Cream 1To make amends for his exasperating curiosity, Cream touches his nose to mine in greeting, then curls beside me on the armrest while I sit on the couch with my laptop. How does anyone write without cats?

If I lean back, Cream nuzzles my head and nibbles my hair, a sign of affection in cats. At least, it is if they nibble each other’s whiskers. I don’t have whiskers, so…hair. Cream purrs delightfully, and is a most soothing companion when he’s not rifling through my purse for peppermints–loves the crackly sound of the wrappers–or stealing my lip gloss, or anything else he can dislodge. He also raids cabinets. Drawers. Baskets.

Peaches-Apricot tabby Oriental mixPeaches is also curious, but less inexhaustible in his pursuit of naughtiness. He’s a particular friend to our tiny pom-poo Sadie, whether she likes it or not. He’s also a willing friend to most anyone. An exceedingly sweet kitty.

‘There are few things in life more heartwarming than to be welcomed by a cat.’ ~Tay Hohoff

Peaches and Cream2

The two kittens together manage more mischief together than one could ever achieve alone. They shut our eldest cat Minnie Mae in the shower. I tracked down the piteous meows and freed her while they milled outside the door claiming to know nothing about it.

_MG_7552 (1)Their exploits with the Christmas tree are legendary. They shook it like a stiff wind blowing through the living room. Even chewed the branches and they’re artificial. Crunch. Crunch. I’d look up to see them perched in the tree gnawing on boughs. Stolen ornaments were batted gleefully about the house. We didn’t put breakables on it this year. And the Nativity scene remained safely stashed away, or wise men, camels, sheep and shepherds would’ve turned up in random places. Poor baby Jesus would have fallen victim to ‘the paws.’

Cream

The tree is down now. Peaches and Cream thoroughly enjoyed the undecorating process. Party time. They hid in the big bag we zipped the separate parts of the fake spruce in, but we found them before they got tucked away until next year. Nothing can replace the delights of the holidays, not even their stash of dingle balls, one of which they tore up. I didn’t know cats would rip the stuffing out of a ball like a dog, but they kept appearing with stuffing they were batting around. So I suspect they’re responsible for its demise, Only the dingle was left.

(The camera doesn’t do justice to Cream’s blue eyes)

Cream 3

Now, they’ve invented a new game that involves one kitten hiding under the braided rug before the kitchen door while the other pounces and they sail into the door. The slam sounds like someone entering, and I keep calling, ‘Hello? Dennis? Cory?” to my husband and son, or whomever I expect to discover within. Nope, it’s just two kittens going ‘Wheee!’ and leaping back and forth.

‘Everything’s a game to them,’ my granddaughter observed.

True, everything is, or should be.

tiny oriental and tabby mix kittensThere’s much to learn from kittens. Play more. Have fun. Enjoy life. ‘Wheee.’ And if you really want to have a blast, adopt a pair of these furbabies.

‘It is impossible to keep a straight face in the presence of one or more kittens.’ ~Cynthia E. Varnado

(Image of Peaches and Cream when they were tiny)