Cats and novels

Good morning,
I am glad you people find cats curious, charming, and companionable. Tom, the intelligent, all-knowing, comfort-seeking friend is often linked to me as though I am his all in all. I guess that's mostly true. And the price of his meaty cat food just went up two cents. Twelve cents more on my food bill. Thank heavens, he is not a large dog.
I am now getting ready to mail out copies of my newly published novel, THE HIDDEN CITY as soon as I get copies. It will be available electronically. More news about that later when it is set up. All good things must be carefully attended to and put in proper order. I am thinking strongly about the best ways to accomplish it.
I am glad Tom is not trying to help me key the computer now. Ya'all have a great spring season. Pet those kitties!

Tom, a Common Tabby but a Noble Cat

Tom, the Alarm Cat
Is it too cold at night for a cat to be outside? Maybe, cats like people number among themselves those who are cold blooded and those who are warm blooded. Tom is a southern cat from Texas. I am from the middle of the country, regarded as
southern in the north and northern south of where I live now -- Oklahoma.
Tom does not like to face cold winds if it is freezing outside. Now that the
temperatures remain above freezing at night he asks to be let out just before
dark. Yes, he sits down by the door. However, sometimes it is a game which might be called, "Yes, I fooled you", and he retreats away from the door. After
doing this several times, he either goes out on his own, of I push him on out with the ball of my foot. He wants out; but before the night is over, he wants back inside. He can jump up to the ground floor window ledges and peer inside
just as he does when inside looking out. When he discovers the room I am in, he speaks. First, he speaks in a questioning manner, then becomes more strident. If he importunes to be let in before ten o'clock, and I open the door, he enters the house. Instead of checking out his food dish, perhaps he will proceed from his entrance door to the other door to go right back out. Another game --"Fool
My Benefactor".
If it is not too cold for him, and he stays out through the night, it may be that
he must rouse the door keeper. So he knows where I sleep and again keeps up his
interminable request at the window. His voice is too loud to ignore and he is never discouraged. For the moment he grants me an interval by going to the door, but if not finding it open to him, he is back at the window. Thus, he is just
another alarm clock I can't shut off.
Now he does have another option which he has often retired to when the weather is
wet or cold. He crams himself into the ash vent behind the fireplace. It is there for the ashes to be removed on the patio side. Then when he hears the door
opening, he is inside like a lightning flash.
Another quirk. Once I am up and have let him in, I go into the garage to turn off the switch to the yard light. My neighbors' lights all go off controlled with
a light sensor. Mine had a timer which set the off and on times. The timer wore
out, so I have to turn on and off the switch in the garage. Tom insists on going
with me to turn it off in the morning. He wouldn't miss those steps into the garage with me, all before he begins his breakfast. But then, as you may know, if you share life with a cat, he is big on routine.

Barbara Lockett, Author: Patrolling and Tom Has a New Girlfriend

Barbara Lockett, Author: Patrolling and Tom Has a New Girlfriend: TOM, THE WATCHCAT Did you know that cats were placed in ancient religious temples as watchcats to prevent thieves from stealing the jewels.  Watch your own cat.  There may be a time at night, or later in the evening that the faithful feline will patrol through your house, room to room; it is her duty.

Last summer a dark furred feline showed up at the patio door who had also eaten Tom's dinner when I put it outside.  Lately, she sat on the step and called.  Receiving no answer she waited on the small table. But it all came to nothing.  She was ignored.  Tom will not go out, until it is twilight.  Maybe, it also has to do with the fact that he is neutered.  However, he does check on the two cats next door who are house cats by looking in the patio door of their house.  One of the cats is a female, the other a male.  Before, the new fence went up last spring, the two males used to watch each other through opposite windows.

Patrilling and Tom Has a New Girlfriend

TOM, THE WATCHCAT

Did you know that cats were placed in ancient religious temples as watchcats to prevent thieves from stealing the jewels and precious articles from the temples, albeit those of pagan religions.  If you don't believe me, watch your own cat around nine or ten pm.  The feline may pace its own circuit around your house, that is if the cat is allowed in the house.

Tom has his own version of patrolling.  He begins in the morning, after his breakfast, by checking out the wildlife from the windows.  If a bird flies in the direction of another side of the house, he races to the windows on that side to find out what the bird is doing there.  After that he waits in the hall blocking the doorway, until I finish dressing and applying my better face before the lighted bathroom mirror.  After that he follows me into the center of the house.  He goes on into the utility room to have some more of this breakfast. 

I have called my cat Tom the Timid in the past, but lately, I have paid attention to him when I put out the remaindeer of his dinner in the evening, when he decides to finish the meal he began around four to five pm.  He has a final nap after this meal and then waits until it is nearly dark before he sits down by the door and waits for me to open it for him.  If I am too attentive to my TV set at that time, he claws the back of my chair which causes me to pounce at him.  But back to the subject.  Tom does not dig in to his food right away,  He looks all around and then runs off the patio and goes all around checking out the yard for the bandit cats that come to steal his dinner.  At last he approaches the food dish and looks about nervously before settling down to enjoy the evening meat menu.

June 7 New Blog, Tom Has a Girlfriend

Tom has a girlgriend.  She has the same dark markings Tom has on his back, but she lacks the white face, paws, and white front and underside.  Also she is a long-hair, whereas Tom is a short-hair feline.  She lives somewhere in our neighborhood, I think.  She has formerly come to steal Tom's remaining dinner after I put it out for him  So I have run her off by going out and shouting and clapping my hands at her.  She goes around the corner of the house and waits, and returns.

Later I noticed that Tom sat outside, after deigning to go outside just about the time it got dark, looking at this cat, while she sat and looked at him.  So they appeared to be tolerating each other, at least.  That seemed to encourage her.

As of last week, she came to sit boldly by the glass patio door and announce herself loudly, "Tom, come out and play with me."  The hussy.  Tom ignored her curled up on the chair in front of the door.  She did this again after being discouraged by Tom and by me.  As of now, that romance appears to be on hiatus. 

TOM, A COMMON TABBY, BUT A NOBLE  CAT

If you haven't been following this blog, again enter a title which is my reason for creating this blog,  It;s for those of us who love and appreciate the unique character of the domestic cats and find them excellent companions.  You can read through the written adventures of Tom and me, and check through old blogs for the story of my first expertience with Tom when he came to me from my daughter who needed a new home for him, when she couldn't keep him herself.

I just finished a blog, and I'm not sure it was posted.

My First "Tom"

So I begin again.  Tom resists having his face focused for the computer camera to show how handsome and intelligent he looks.  I can't seem to hold his head straight and keep a hand free to click on the correct icon.
To make up for the loss, I will tell you about my first Tom.  Enamored as I was with the Peter Rabbit story, and further impressed by the white cat who was grooming herself in the sunshine, I wanted a white cat.  I was an only child growing up without other kids to play with in my earliest years.  About this time, my Dad went into business for himself as the proprietor of a feed mill, buying and selling feeds and supplies for farm animals, flour for people, and milling grains, including popcorn and corn-meal. 
Mice being banned around grains, my Dad always kept a couple of cats in residence to control the mice.  At this time there was no prepared pet food, but Dad fed the cats faithfully on canned horse meat which they loved.  He also cured them of mange by spreading on the furless skin pine tar.  It worked in short order.  One customer even called my Dad when his horse got sick.  He had a cure for that, too.
Well, to continue, Tom, a yellow cat turned up at the mill.  Homeless cats could be counted on to find the mill, and soon they would be healthy and tame.  Yellow was my second choice in a cat, and he was brought home to me.  However, he had quickly established himself as a professional mouse catcher and shared residence with our house and the mill, being child's friend and mill buddy.  I will tell more about him next time.

Well, well, we come to a new report.  Tom is doing wonderfully, handling the cold nights late in this February.  He is an indoor cat during the eay and is outdoors at night.  I offer him sanctuary inside when it is stormy or too cold for me.  He has agreed to come inside around ten p.m. when it is below freezing.  He is allowed to stay in the utility room which has a door to the powder room, so that he won't awaken me.  Otherwise, he would love to share my bed and back up hard against my back and sleep with me for a time.  Then, restless, he would be coming and going all night long interupting my sleep.

This week I was reminded of the toliet paper commercial showing cats reared up to the mounted roll and delighting themselves in unrolling every last sheet on the roll.  Tom has passed most of his nights inside sleeping on the rug in the utility or the powder room.  Occasionally he opens the cabinet door and en-joys looking at, or pulling out a couple of hand towels.  But this week he attacked the paper roll.  It is not that he likes to unroll it.  No!  He loves to get his toes and claws into anything soft.  He claws deeply into the new rolls and pulls out fragments of paper which I find on the floor.  Not only that, but he leaves behind on the roll a veritable work of art.  PERFORMANCE ART AT ITS BEST.