HOLIDAY TORNADOS AND DIVINE DIRECTION

I become contemplative this time of the year. Am I thinking of Santa Kitty’s visit? Perhaps, but, my musings go deeper. After all I am a cat and a co-author.

 

 

I won’t forget this time last year when the cat gods made me confront my tornado fears. Bunked down in Summerdale, Alabama at an RV park on Christmas Eve, no visions of toys stuffed with catnip danced in my head.  Sure, the motorhome was decked with holly and my stocking and Judy’s hung from the steering wheel with care,

 

 

 

  but our emergency bags, packed and stacked by the door waited quietly in case Santa Kitty rode in on a cloud...a tunnel cloud that is. I had checked my bag to assure my food and favorite toys were not forgotten while Judy stowed away other essentials in hers.

 

Judy was warm in her sweats in front of the TV as she watched and listened to the weathermen tracking the tornado. Radar technology searched the night sky that swarmed and coiled with angry air, prepared to strike, but who knew where? I worried that Santa Kitty would arrive with a clatter and seventy mile an hour winds.

Judy’s friend Vicki   planned our escape route. Vicki would load up Tika, her little dog, and her birds, Tweetie Bird and Birdy Bird and drive to our campsite. I had always kept a close eye on my friends.

 

 

 

 

Vicki  would pick us and our cherished belongings up, then speed to the campground’s club house that provided better shelter than our home on wheels.

Sometime deep in the night the tornado touched down.... in downtown Mobile, only thirty miles away.


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The course of our lives.
Does a divine navigator take the wheel and determine our route? Are we are powerless? Or do we map out our own destinations…and suffer the potholes of our humble decisions? 

What do I know? I’m just a cat. On the outside my fur is soft and glistens in the sun.  My nose, like Rudolph’s, is bright, as if I can lead the way. My image?  I know I appear as the total package, a really cool cat. But inside? My beliefs?  I play it close to the paw, even Judy only guesses.

Because I sleep on the dash while we cover the miles to our next destination, Judy assumes I trust the process of life, that life will reveal itself. I do and it does. The day’s destination, whether it is a Walmart parking lot, an Elk’s club or an RV park with all the amenities, it is always worth the detours and flat tires along the way. I rejoice that our den on wheels offers new and exciting   smells and sights just beyond the door. Every day.

Do I choose the destination? I would like to think Judy, or someone, considers what I want to experience, like the White Sands of New Mexico, the willowy drapes of cypress in Alabama, or the fiery sunsets in Florida, Arizona and Wyoming.

I believe that we are always divinely guided and that we will always take the right turn of the road. I believe someone or something bigger and wiser than us will always make a way where there is no way.

So my friends and fans, with this rare bit of wisdom I share with you,  I will settle down for a long winter's nap.

 

Meow. Meow.

translation:

Happy Holidays to all, and to all a good night!!

 

 

 

 

Make this Holiday memorable with the gift of a book.

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SPORTSTER IS THANKFUL

 Every year  at this time, alone, curled up in a drawer or snug in the recesses of the linen closet, where no one can observe, I make a grateful list.  I rarely reveal this side of me, I'm  a private  cat. Reviewing  the year, noting my accomplishments and failures ( although the latter list is minimal)  clears my mind and encourages me to face the new year spitting and hissing. Family and friends always play a part in this annual review.

Goldfinger, my cousin in Vegas who  never had a thankful attitude,  demands what he wants and his people give it to him. He bragged  how he shredded the screen door when his folks brought home a kitten they rescued. They had  found the poor creature shivering in fear on the hot asphalt of the Vegas strip. Goldie, that's what we call my cousin, is not one to mess with.

This is my twin brother. We were separated  as kittens. He wasn't as lucky as me to find a warm loving home. He roamed the streets,  joined a gang and  was arrested and went to jail. It was behind bars  he worked his sweet talking meows on an elderly lady who had just lost her little Pumpkin to old age. He lives  a good life now  as you can see  but his time on the streets  made him bitter and not very thankful.



Aunt Callie sent me this snapshot to demonstrate her hunting prowess. Do you think she caught that big bird?

I ponder my family ties  this time of the year and I am thankful I turned out the way I did. My life is full. More charmed than any cat I know.
I have met a lot  of my distant cousins at our grooming shop, The Canine Beauty Salon . Some  travel a lot like me but none have their own private bathroom.
Last year Judy surprised me. She called it an early Christmas present. She took me out to the motor home that she has been loading up for our three month trip to Florida and  unveiled my very own lavatory.

That was a year ago. I've since  decorated it  with catnip and a pretty air freshener.  It's spacious and private. Before the addition it seemed every time someone came to visit, I had to go to the bathroom. It was quite embarrassing not only for the company but me as well.

 

We're going to put my name over the door.

 

 

 

My friend Pinto misses me every time I travel.. She wants to go too. No way. Not when I just got my own bathroom, I'm not the sharing sort.

Larry the lizard lives on our back patio and entertains me with his strange antics.  He is such a clown. I told him to be safe this year when I  go to Quartzite, Arizona in January.. He explained that wouldn't be a problem. He'll sleep til spring.

 

Judy's right family, friends and fans. That's life.  Have a great Thanksgiving. Maybe curl up after dinner with a good book?

Don't forget Judy's books are now available as AUDIO BOOKS.

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SPORSTER'S THOUGHTS ON FREEDOM

HAPPY VETERANS DAY!!

A TRIBUTE TO A DOG

We only work at the grooming shop three days a week now.  They are busy days, and long. I stay busy all morning offering assistance to the nervous clients, pet and human alike. Sometimes just positioning myself on the reception desk like a lawn statute distracts the customer from their worries. I can read their thoughts, “Oh the cat is calm, purring, and pretty, it must be okay.” You could call me a service cat. I work the morning crowd but by noon, my belly bulges with treats from the staff and Judy, the dogs are settled in, relaxed from their warm bath and waiting for pick up, so it is time for my siesta.

Because the time is hectic and full, the three days pass quickly. By the third day I am eager to work, but the hours are draining and I look forward to the next four days at home.

 My job at home is less taxing. As a service cat I keep a schedule. I remind Judy that sleeping in and playing “chase the feet under the covers” frees the creative juices for writing. Like most service animals my main job is distraction. My means of accomplishing that goal differs from the dog’s. I succeed through cuteness and demanding attention while a dog demonstrates love and caring. We both achieve the same result, I just avoid the groveling.

In fact I want to point out that a cat’s job as a companion is so often underrated by the public. Even Judy is writing a book on the merits of a service DOG. Folks don’t write famous speeches about their relationship with cats. It is not that I want publicity, but I would like my species given credit.

With that said, Judy read this famous speech to me the other day. I will post it here because I don’t hold grudges. Historians consider it one of the greatest speeches about a dog. Perhaps my peeps can send me some moving literature about cats. In the meantime I’ll admit this says it all about the dog.

 

A TRIBUTE TO A DOG

George Graham Vest (1830-1904) served as U.S. Senator from Missouri from 1879 to 1903 and became one of the leading orators and debaters of his time. This delightful speech is from an earlier period in his life when he practiced law in a small Missouri town. It was given in court while representing a man who sued another for the killing of his dog. During the trial, Vest ignored the testimony, and when his turn came to present a summation to the jury, he made the following speech and won the case.

Gentlemen of the Jury: The best friend a man has in the world may turn against him and become his enemy. His son or daughter that he has reared with loving care may prove ungrateful. Those who are nearest and dearest to us, those whom we trust with our happiness and our good name may become traitors to their faith. The money that a man has, he may lose. It flies away from him, perhaps when he needs it most. A man's reputation may be sacrificed in a moment of ill-considered action. The people who are prone to fall on their knees to do us honor when success is with us, may be the first to throw the stone of malice when failure settles its cloud upon our heads.

The one absolutely unselfish friend that man can have in this selfish world, the one that never deserts him, the one that never proves ungrateful or treacherous is his dog. A man's dog stands by him in prosperity and in poverty, in health and in sickness. He will sleep on the cold ground, where the wintry winds blow and the snow drives fiercely, if only he may be near his master's side. He will kiss the hand that has no food to offer. He will lick the wounds and sores that come in encounters with the roughness of the world. He guards the sleep of his pauper master as if he were a prince. When all other friends desert, he remains. When riches take wings, and reputation falls to pieces, he is as constant in his love as the sun in its journey through the heavens.

If fortune drives the master forth, an outcast in the world, friendless and homeless, the faithful dog asks no higher privilege than that of accompanying him, to guard him against danger, to fight against his enemies. And when the last scene of all comes, and death takes his master in its embrace and his body is laid away in the cold ground, no matter if all other friends pursue their way, there by the graveside will the noble dog be found, his head between his paws, his eyes sad, but open in alert watchfulness, faithful and true even in death.

George Graham Vest - c. 1855

 

 

 

 

THE BIGGEST LITTER BOX AND THE BIGGEST PISTACHIO

Judy and Julie said good bye with hugs and safe travel wishes, and pats on the head for Kona and Rocky, while I watched from the dashboard, impatient to get on the road. I kept my “secret sadness” hidden behind my regal, unconcerned attitude.

 I would miss Rocky and Kona, especially Kona, she was such entertainment. But they had to go home, head west, while we turned our wheels east. I don’t know why Judy seemed so sad, she still had me.

We headed for the SKP Saguaro RV Park in Benson, Arizona. I kicked back for a few days exploring our clean, peaceful campsite. 

I smell s rabbit!!

Where is that rabbit?

 Judy waited for the government to settle the budget issues. 

 Judy got caught up on her writing, laundry, and quality time with me.

After four days we headed out for Deming, New Mexico, ready to continue our adventures in New Mexico.

When we arrived at The Dream Catcher RV Park I knew something was wrong. Judy rushed to park, plug in and went to bed. She never takes naps so I cuddled with her knowing she did not feel good. Saturday and Sunday passed with no improvement. We slept a lot, not unusual for me, but I wasn’t accustomed to Judy’s new behavior.

The sun had not come up when Judy rousted me from the warm blankets and I watched her stow away everything for travel. She only drove across town and parked in a near empty parking lot in front of a sign, “Emergency Entrance.”?? What was going on?

The hospital was small, one story and Judy parked the motor home close to the emergency entrance. 

She locked up the motor home and went inside. I perched on the dash and looked out into the dark.

Trucks pulled up with flashing lights and people scurried around. I studied the movement for a long time as I waited for Judy’s return. What if she was so sick, she wasn’t coming back? What would become of me? I could wait a long time, Judy had filled up my dish to overflowing.

An hour and a half later Judy  came through the doors and approached the motor home. My heart skipped a beat. Everything was going to be okay! She gave me a huge hug and I felt her relief as I hid mine and squirmed out of her grasp.

I listened as Judy explained to her sister on the phone that after tests and a super duper shot of antibiotics, she would soon be on the mend from a bladder infection. 

“I can’t say enough for  The Mimbres Memorial Hospital,  my nurse, Mena, and the doctors.” Judy’s voice was high with excitement as she talked to her sister. “They kept me updated on the process, explaining it took thirty minutes for tests to process. They just didn’t stick me in a room and leave me wondering if I’d been forgotten. Mena was the best. If you want a good nurse she’ll be traveling to the Los Angles Children’s Hospital to work there for  for thirteen weeks and is  considering the new Loma Linda Hospital in Murrieta, California next.”

Judy drove back to the campground and we spent the rest of the day resting and napping. Being sick on the road was scary. I’m glad that’s over.

We had arrived in Deming on a Saturday and on Tuesday morning we were back in the saddle again, headed for the biggest litter box I have ever seen in my entire life!!

The White Sands National Monument near Alamogordo, New Mexico.

The motor home looks so tiny in this gigantic litter box. It's too much to comprehend. 

We moved on down the road.

And the next stop, the biggest Pistachio I have ever seen at McGinns Pistachioland in Alamogordo, New Mexico.

Stay tuned for more adventures as we make our way to the Alien Capital, Roswell, New Mexico.

Smokey the Bear and Black Jack

We were headed to Roswell, New Mexico   but made some stops along the way to visit  some of my famous animal friends who have made the history books. First stop, the Smokey The Bear Historical Park. It is here that Smokey the Bear was born and rescued after being orphaned during a forest fire. And it is here, after his death November 9, 1976, he is buried after twenty-six years of service to our country. 

My name is mentioned in books too, but I will never have the impact on this country like Smokey The Bear. It was an honor to visit his grave site.

This is Fort Stanton. Judy has become fascinated with the many forts situated throughout the west pointing out that the hardships these soldiers encountered are  similar  to what our warriors of today must endure. A soldier's life is never easy.

General Pershing's name comes up many times in the history books of this era. His horse, Black Jack is  icon  that you may not be aware.  After General Pershing's death his horse Black Jack made a name for himself as The
Riderless Horse in many stat funerals.. He participated in Hoover's, Johnson's, McArthur's, and most remembered, Kennedy's funeral.  Black Jack is one of only two horses to be buried with full military honors ( the other horse, Comanche) . Click on the link below to learn more about this magnificent animal.

Th

Black Jack The Riderless Horse

And our final stop before reaching Roswell was Lincoln  County, the stomping grounds of Billy the Kid.  Below is the only one of the  many historical buildings in this area where the Lincoln County Wars took place. It is one of the two competing mercantile stores that competed for the the economic and political control of this area in 1878. Billy the kid escaped from this building where he was held to be hung for his crimes.  The gunshot holes in the walls are from his guns when he escaped. If I weren't a cat I'd want to be Billy The Kid.

Below is an article about Billy's origins in Silver City. Another stop on our itinerary.

Old Town Silver City, New Mexico

By Mary Alice Murphy,

Silver City Daily Press

The controversy over Billy the Kid’s life and death started when he was shot and killed by Pat Garrett in July 1888. But did Billy die, did Garrett really kill him or was somebody else the victim of Garrett’s bullets? The legend holds that Billy, also known as William Bonney Henry McCarty and Henry Antrim, was born in New York, or was it Texas? His mother was Catherine Antrim, or was he born to her sister and raised by Antrim?

The controversy of his life stems far beyond what documented history can tell us. However, a few things about Billy’s life are not controversial. He was raised in Silver City, New Mexico, by Antrim and known then as Henry McCarty. After her death, he had no role models, got involved with shady characters and began his brief life of crime. Also not disputed is that Billy the Kid attended Sixth Street Elementary School in Silver City.

A cabin, from the movie set of “The Missing” was donated by the movie’s director Ron Howard and sits at the Murray Ryan Visitor Center near the site where Billy (a.k.a. Henry) and his mother lived. So, while the stories of Billy change as quickly as time passes, one fact that will always remain is “the Kid” will always be known as one of the West’s most rumored and remembered outlaws.













Just to remind you, I am mentioned in books as well as Smokey and Black Jack.
Check them out on Amazon.
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Wasting Away In Wickenburg, Arizona

Wickenburg, Arizona was the perfect place to me to  recuperate from my worries, 

 "Would Judy ever return from the deep canyon walls of the Grand Canyon? Would she be swept away forever, leaving me the task of training someone new to all my needs and desires? I would be meticulous in my interviews. The new position would have many more duties. regular walks, no dogs in the house even to visit. And there would be a no tolerance policy for lack of response to repeated meows."

I digressed. Sorry.

Judy had time to do laundry and she  and Julie ate out a lot. We slept in every day  and Judy met up with Julie when she took Rocky and Kona for their walks. I relaxed while they toured  The Desert Caballeros Western Museum. 

They ate at the Hog Tough Barbecue  and met up with fellow Escapee members  David and Nancy Barnhart who were wintering  at the North Ranch SKP  Park in Congress, Arizona where we were staying. David and Nancy had raised many dogs for The Canine for Companions For Independence. Where are the cat lovers in this world?

Judy scolded me for being  narrow minded. She enjoyed hearing about their training adventures.  Well, that is what you have to do when you own a dog.

The Horseshoe  Cafe   was another great restaurant in Wickenburg. 

In the evenings we watched the sunsets.

After a great few days we headed for Kingman, Arizona to get more kicks on Route 66.

See you there.

Boats and Bridges

I’m not much of a reader. I’m more into catnaps, although lately I've been listening to our audio books. Judy told me Lake Havasu City made its mark on the map when it purchased every granite brick from the London Bridge that spanned the Thames in London, including the ones chipped and pocked by shrapnel from World War I. Every piece was numbered and hauled through the Panama Canal to be rebuilt in Lake Havasu City, Arizona. That’s an enormous feat for my feline brain to conceive, since I have people to do my bidding, I rarely strain a paw.  

We arrived in Lake Havasu City in time for Judy and Julie to embark on a sunset cruise that took them under the London Bridge, around the lake, and into the Topock Gorge.

 Julie’s two dogs Kona, a standard poodle, and Rocky, a Pomeranian, went on the boat ride, too. Really? Dogs are not cool.

 Judy was so excited when she told me about meeting a group of eight journalists visiting from various countries - London, Paris, China and Brazil – As you can see, Kona and Rocky made their contribution to international relations. 

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Sophie, a journalist for the Daily News, a National publication out of London, hit it off with Kona while the gal from China cradled little Rocky throughout the entire cruise.

Our tour ended at sunset. Enjoy the scenery.

Lake Havasu.

And the highlight of the tour - The London Bridge.

The following morning I did my yoga stretch, rested and refreshed after a silent night with no wild burros. Judy pulled out of Campbell Cove Campground. We were off to get our kicks on Route 66.

Our destination, the capital of the Hualapai Nation, Peach Springs, Arizona.  Again Judy, always the great tour guide told me that located in this small town on historic Route 66 is the only road that traverses sixteen hundred feet down to the bottom of the Grand Canyon. It is there that her rafting adventure will begin the next day. 

Don't forget to check out our books, COAST TO COAST WITH A CAT AND A GHOST  and GOING HOME WITH A CAT AND A GHOST. They are avaiable as print, e-book, and audio. 

Click on the link below.

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The Good, The Bad Roads, and The Right and The Wrong Turns

I watched Judy for the past weeks, carrying clothes and stuff to the motorhome. When I spotted my bag of food in her arms, I knew the trip was on. I purred contented we were finally on the road. When we rendezvoused at Home Depot right on time, Judy said. I panicked when I saw mom’s friend Julie pull up in her fifth wheel and her two dogs, Kona and Rocky. I've done trips with mom’s friends before and they all have  dogs who want to be my best friend. Really? Dogs are not cool.

I heard Judy tell her friend she needed a walkie talkie because her cheap, less than a year old, twenty dollar set wasn’t walking or talking. “No problem,” Julie said.  Brand new at RVing, Julie pulled out her brand new eighty dollar set with whistles and bells and we set out on the road, headed out for adventures and good times.

Judy led the way to Buckskin State Park on the outskirts of Parker and located on Arizona side of the river. A few years back she and I enjoyed a Thanksgiving weekend there, watched a boat parade on Thanksgiving Day and I rock climbed at the campsite. A gracious family invited Judy for enchiladas on night. I declined the invitation. Pleasant memories.

Half way to Lake Havasu Judy realized she made a wrong turn that led us on the California side of the river. She and Julie settled for a nice campground with wild burros grazing throughout the campground. Climbing back into the cab Judy said, “The office help seemed nice.”  She said she explained her intention to drive the Arizona side and they reassured her. “Don’t Worry. You are only thirty miles from Havasu.” 

Everything was so nice Judy booked two nights and selected the reasonable priced spaces, away from the water. She marveled at the picturesque red rocks of Copper Canyon that formed a postcard backdrop as we watched the wild burros graze peacefully. Now I wasn’t keen on the huge creatures but they seemed docile enough. I guess I was as thrilled as Judy and Julie with the campground choice.

Judy and Julie didn’t expect it to be as hot this late in the year, me I was fine stretched out on the kitchen counter. I could see the river from my vantage. It supported a variety of bugs. Numerous bugs swarmed in the air. I looked forward to catching a few when the sun set and it became cooler. Judy claimed the “burro pies” left by these constantly eating creatures were a delicacy for the insects, which constantly competed with the flies for the space in front of her face. She pawed at her face at the same pace the burros' tails switched back and forth.

When the burros belted out their screeching, grating hee haws to one another, my heart flip flopped and my hair stood on end. I listened to Kona’s deep, excited barks. What did she think she was doing? At that moment I decided curiosity was not killing this cat. I was exploring no farther than the scents that drifted through the screen door.

No bars. Judy gets agitated with the condition. No cell or Internet service toned down the two friends’ happy, joyous mood like a flat tire alongside the road. The final fly in the burro pie - no cable - forced us all to retire early into our air conditioned rigs with a good book Nap time is always a good thing.

Morning coolness tried to cheer Judy’s red-eyed spirits as she prepared to pull out of the River Lodge Resort on Parker Dam Road. A brief stop at the office confirmed what she expected - the request for a refund of second night would be denied. She shrugged it off and headed north to Havasu, Arizona.

No traffic led Judy to assume no one traveled the California side. The rough and twisted road left no shoulder or pull outs for photos of the red rock canyon scenery. She slowed to five miles of pot-holed-road per hour. I tried to sleep but the rig rattled and rumbled as it stumbled down the poorly maintained asphalt. Civilization disappeared. Five vultures perched on a rocky crag ten feet above our heads. Are there no small animals in this place? We crept by. The big birds seemed to wait for us to run out of gas.

Around the bend emerging out of a dust cloud a man appeared in a golf cart. Like an alien in this forsaken country he bounced past me and Julie flagged him down. Not an alien, the man confirmed Judy’s fears, we were on a road that went nowhere, but he assured her that around the curve was room to turn around. “The only way to Lake Havasu is head back to Parker,” he said. “You can’t image how many people make this mistake.” And off he buzzed vanishing down  a dusty canyon road..

Forty-five minutes later we pulled into the Parker Elks Lodge - the majestic red rock canyon and family of vultures - the good side of a bad, ugly road.

Judy left me to write my blog while she and Julie had hamburgers and chips inside the lodge. Tomorrow we would continue on, leaving the good, the bad routes, the right and wrong turns behind us.

Don't forget to check our print, e-books and audio books.
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YOU CAN HEAR ME NOW!!

Hello, I'm Sportster. Remember me? I have missed you all. Where have you been?

I am inviting all of you to listen along with me to our new audio book, COAST TO COAST WITH A CAT AND A GHOST narrated by Anne Johnstonbrown, annejohnstonbrown.com

As you can see by my expression, Anne's voice takes me back to mine and Judy's amazing trip from coast to coast. Wow! What a journey. Listening to Anne tell my story is like reliving the adventure all over again. I mean like I'M THERE!

Since becoming a professional actor, Anne

The audio book is now on sale at audible.com

This link below will take you directly to the book. http://www.audible.com/pd/ref=sr_1_1?asin=B00EYIQ88W&qid=1378488709&sr=1-1

The audio book can also be found  on Amazon.com
The link below will take you to the book.

COAST TO COAST WITH A CAT AND A GHOST

The audio book was so great I invited Jack Incarnate to listen too. He hasn't got back to me with his review but I am sure he will be speechless.

Scroll down and read a are upbeat review from Jack Incarnate

"I am Speechless!!"




DON'T FORGET

GOING HOME WITH A CAT AND A GHOST is also available on audio. Listen to the  fifteen minute excerpt.

GOING HOME WITH A CAT AND A GHOST.

AND

Print and e-books are also available.

COAST TO COAST WITH A CAT AND A GHOST

GOING HOME WITH A CAT AND A GHOST