Sporster, Barbie, and the Cat Gods

The days are hot, long, and getting hotter. Like my jungle ancestors, I spend the  cool mornings catching up on  chores,  reminding Judy  my food  dish is  half full and  my bowl of water is hours old. In a seminar I give to anyone who will listen (Cat Care For Dummies), I’ve trained her to multi task by dribbling the kitchen faucet water while she prepares her morning coffee. I study the rivulets wiggling down the drain, as she counts, “One. Two……” If I don’t embellish in the fresh stream by the count of “Three,” she turns off the water video. I’ve learned to lap on the count of “Two.”

Food preparation and packing are the priorities these days, but I sense a tenseness in the air and it is not anticipation of our upcoming three month journey. I eavesdropped as Judy prattled on and on with her sister and her best friend as she described her nervous energy. It is what all humans whom I’ve ever confronted seem to be plagued with - trying to predict the future.

Doesn’t she know that everything happens for a reason? I know she does. I’ve heard her say it.  I want to tell her about the time I lived on the streets. Back then I was young and I hung out with Barbie, a beautiful sleek, sweet feline who prowled the neighborhood next to mine. I wanted her for my own. I envisioned us merging our territorial rights and becoming a pride to be reckoned with. We would wake the people with our wild, passionate love making and I prayed to the Cat God for him to make Barbie mine.  I promised I would never ask for anything again, if, just this once, he would grant my wish.

The Cat God never granted that wish that I wished way back then. Barbie found other interests when I was swept up by a rescuer of lost souls and taken to Judy.  Although Barbie is not in my life anymore and we never accomplished our goals to rule the neighborhood, I guess the Cat God knew what he was doing after all.

I've partied in Key West with my friend Charlie.

 

I've celebrated Thanksgiving with the Cats of New Orleans.

 

 

 
I've listened to the Aspens sing in the canyons in Utah.

 

In El Paso, Texas, I  searched for Marty Robbin's, Rosa's Cantina.

I saw Barbie the other day. She crept up to the door and called out to me. I chirped and twitched my tail in greeting when I realized it was her.  We tried to talk about old times but she could see that I had changed, and she had too. Her fur matted fur along her back smelled and her eyes sunk in her sockets. She looked like she had lived eight lives. I turned away from the screen door and gazed up at Judy as she laid back in her recliner lost in the latest rerun of, Wanted Dead or Alive. This is where I belong.  I try not to question life’s events, because I believe the Cat God knew what he was doing when  so long ago and he has his plan now. My life is the envy of cats and humans alike.

And I've been lulled  asleep  by sunsets in....

Winter Island, Massachusetts....

 

in the Florida Keys

 

and my favorite, Galveston, Oh Galveston I still hear your sea winds blowin'
 

 

 

 

So Judy, if you read this, have faith. Everything that has come before this moment is a preparation for what lies in the future. Trust and Faith in the Cat God’s plan comes naturally to me as I lick my paws and ponder my gratitude list.  Stick with me, I will help you.

 

9 Signs Sportster has a Soulmate

9 Signs You've Found Your Soul mate (If You Believe In That Sort Of Thing)

I have spent hours primping in front of the television set and  everyone is concerned with meeting their soul mate. Judy says she and I are soul mates.  I rolled my eyes. Who believes in such things? Not me. She tried to explain that your soul mate is someone whom you connect with on the deepest level and yet allows you to still be you in the relationship. I am looking down at my gorgeous soft fur and trim body …well, I am still me. does she have a point?

She showed me a list of nine signs.

1.      You communicate without speaking.

Well she had me on that one. I give her what I call my “steady stare.”

 

 In response, she locks eyes and tries to make it a game, but  always caves and asks, “What do you want?” But she knows, I don't have to tell her,  because she scratches my chin and rubs my belly. So that’s one point  for her side of the argument.  If she is my soul mate, she certainly knows   how to respond to your emotional signals.

2.      You know in your gut that you have found “The One.”

I have to give her this one, too. I came from the streets. I was too small to forage for food and had been living on grasshoppers and crickets when a young man rescued me and took me to meet Judy. I will never forget that day as my tummy swelled with crunchy kibble that warmed me all over. I did feel it in my gut. Judy became very special to me that day.

3.      The physical chemistry is palpable.

Judy explained that experts in relationships claim you feel ‘an electricity’ when your soul mate enters a room or touches you even after living together for years. I guess I have to cede on that point as well. When I am home alone the sound of the garage door rising sends a thrill through me. I trot to the door and can hardly contain myself until she picks me up and rubs my ears and kisses my nose.

 

4.      You’ve been totally comfortable around each other since the first time you met.

It is true I opened up to Judy from day one. I revealed my inner needs, what I liked and what I didn’t,   and she was there for me.

5.      But the relationship is not all about rainbows and catnip. Your soul mate challenges you like no one else can.

Boy does she!! How many times!! Every time!! I let her know that I hate my bath. I cry and once I even bit her. She pushes my buttons and aggravates me.

 Secretly I agree the entire experience is good for my body and soul. After my bath I evolve into a happier, better smelling cat and I’ve learned that sometimes in life we have to endure pleasantries to reach a higher level of consciousness.

6.     You may not see eye-to-eye on every little thing, but you're on the same page where it really matters.

Right on. I may not agree about the baths, or that I have to finish all the food in my dish before I get more, but we both love to travel and I enjoy sharing my bed with her and sharing  the hours with her in front of the computer.

7.      The relationship bring both partners inner calm.

I know this is true for Judy. She has told me she only has to watch me sleep and she says she “catches” my inner calm. I know I can sleep for hours when she is home with me.

8.      You and your partner have separate identities but you face the world as one.

"Soul mates recognize that they are two parts of the same whole, and no outside influence or external matter can break that bond," Judy explained. I questioned her on this one. I pointed out the times that her friends bring their dogs into our peaceful inner sanctum. “What about then?” I asked.

“They always go home, don’t they?”  I surrendered that point, too.

9.    You may have known each other for years, but you suddenly find yourselves ready for love at the same time.

Finally! She’s wrong.  We have loved each other from the beginning.

Check out Judy's latest book, MASADA'S MARINE on Amazon.

Every hour a veteran commits suicide.

 

SPORTSTER'S FREEDOM

This Memorial Day  is even more special than all of the  others I have experienced. I hope through my video I can express my patriotism and appreciation for my freedom,  and that I may  inspire  you  to remember it is not just about fireworks and  barbeques.

With the release of our newest book, MASADA'S MARINE, Memorial Day means even more to me than ever before. The hours Judy and I spent in research, and the wonderful folks we've met who  shared their stories, has made this holiday extremely significant.

Please honor not only our fallen heroes, but our invisible heroes who still fight their battle with PTSD.

EVERY HOUR A VETERAN COMMITS SUICIDE BECAUSE OF PTSD.

Below are reviews from some  of our readers.  

“I am reading Masada’s Marine. It is great! I am only a third of the way done but you had me hooked and teary eyed with the first paragraph! I read a lot of books and I am not just saying this to be nice. It is your best so far and I think this will help a lot of people understand and appreciate our service people!

When I was 12 my mom left my brother and I with some friends. The man had been in the service in Vietnam. We were sitting on the couch watching TV when he started screaming for us to get down. He moved us to the bedroom with his wife and then got down behind the couch acting like he had a rifle in his hand. It was terrifying. I had mostly forgot about that happening until I started reading this book. Other than that these people were very good to me. I see now how much he must have been suffering!

I am going to buy a few copies and offer them for sale at the shop! I think this is going to be a great success for you! Congratulations!”

Two days later  the reader continues.....

“So I am at the part where Alex, the Marine, gets in an altercation with the driver of an SUV that honks his horn. Alex is banging on the man’s window and another man walks up and says, “Stand Down Marine.”  Oh my gosh, I am balling like a baby. You explained it so well that the reader can sympathize with Alex. Road rage is a bad thing but you can see why he is so angry and have compassion for him! Still loving the book! Excellent!!"

And one of the most recent reviews....

As a retired VA Nurse, I can tell you that the author knew her subjects well. Alex and Sarah experienced a marriage post Iraqi. Alex desires to do the right thing but must face daily the trauma recall from fighting a war that made no sense, where children were used to kill and be killed themselves. The violent side effects of PTSD does most certainly ruin families. The introduction of therapy dogs is a fairly new concept for our military returning now. However, the VA has been using service dogs for our blind veterans for years. Masada's Marine is the best read! I wanted to just hug Masada!

Please consider this cat's humble plea and carry the message about PTSD.

MASADA'S MARINE

 

 

Sportster thanks the US Military.

I cannot let this day go by without a word to all the men and women who have made it possible for a cat like me to live the good life. Not a day goes by that I don't send a message out to the universe,  stating my pride for my country  and my humble gratitude for all that I enjoy.

My life is charmed. I am a lucky cat that I don't live in a country who would not hesitate to list me as an ingredient in their dinner recipe.  Or, in a country who who would use my pelt to warm them on cold winter nights, never mind that I live in California. Or, in a country where my teeth  would be harvested for a king's necklace.

I am grateful I live in a country where I have freedom to express myself.

I have the freedom worship the cat Gods, if I so choose.

I can  dance in the street.

Our children are free to imagine.

I have the right to hunt and bear arms.

Please give thanks for the life we live and  to those men and  women who sacrificed their lives to protect our freedom to live ours..

God Bless the United States   Military.

I hope I have done my part to honor our veterans. I have spent many hours assisting Judy  this past year and a half, as a co-author, researcher, interviewer, editor and publisher in order  to bring Judy's latest book, MASADA'S MARINE,  to the public's eye.

MASADA'S MARINE

It is our hope the book's message will create a viral movement  to bring attention and  support to our veterans who are suffering.

Every hour a veteran commits suicide.

Please tell a friend and carry the message.

MASADA'S MARINE

Play date and Oceanside, Ca.

The  folks at Canine Companions For Independence explained that the training of a service dog isn’t all about obedience.  Playing is important, especially for a nine week old puppy. My mom's friend, Julie April and her new puppy, Dahlia, have  begun their first week of Dahlia's adventure to become a service dog for the organization that raises dogs for veterans and people with disabilities. I participated in Dahlia's first play date.

We touched noses and butts and I proceeded to review the Cat 101 Rules of Play as I had demonstrated  the first time we had met. Dahlia, not yet ten weeks weeks old,  had forgotten all my instructions from our first session. Again, I repeated the guidelines, but as I did, she wondered off to investigate a piece of lint on the floor and … “Oh! Is that a bug?” She pounced on  what I could have told her was nothing.  Her tail wags back and forth like an inane creature without a care in the world. She shows no caution. How do dogs survive at all? 

 

 
 
 

I finally attracted her attention, I bopped her on the head.

She liked it and barked but barking is not acceptable and I retreated to the back of the couch. Dahlia, realizing I was out of reach,wandered off to explore the edge of a throw rug, grabbed it and began to shake it. Judy and Julie chimed in with their “don’ts” and “no-nos” while I observed.  Maybe I misunderstood, is the dog's name Dahlia, or Don’t?

I jumped down from my safe place and approached her once more. She wiggled with delight, but before she could clamp those needle sharp puppy teeth onto my tail,  I raced away, around the room, flying over the couch, the recliners and disappeared under the coffee table. I peered out to monitor how far she had gotten in the chase. Dahlia  still stood in the same spot, swiveling  her head, first one way  and then the other, looking for me. Dogs are so clueless. I called an end to the play date. I have no patience with inferiority.

Now we are camping in our motorhome in Oceanside, California. Dahlia went to her puppy class at CCI on Saturday and I hope it helps because I am losing patience fast. She is just too silly for my mature tastes, although here is a shot of her   in my motorhome acting like a grown up dog for five whole minutes.

 

After Julie and Dahlia went home to their fifth wheel. I explored  the campsite.


 

 The walk to the beach was teasing with ducks and squirrels. The weather perfect.

Life is good  at the beach.

 Stay tuned for more adventures. And don't forget....
MASADA'S MARINE   will be on Amazon's shelves  soon! Watch for it!

 

 

 

 

A Cat's Perspective on the Training of a Service Dog

Meet my mom’s friend Julie April and her new puppy, Dahlia. Julie has become one of Canine Companions For Independence‘s newest puppy raisers. The non-profit organization is one of the largest providers of service dogs. Dahlia, is an eight week old golden retriever puppy whom Julie has made the monumental commitment to raise and train. For the next eighteen months I hope you join us as we cheer for Julie’s puppy on its journey to become a service dog, just like Masada, the main dog character in our newest book, MASADA’S MARINE.

 

 

 

The journey began weeks ago when Julie and Judy attended an open house at the Canine Companions For Independence Open house in Oceanside, California. Mom had visited for research purposes for our book, MASADA’S MARINE, unaware Julie had taken an application to become a puppy raiser. After weeks of interviews and waiting,Julie was approved and the day came to pick up Dahlia. I’ll have to admit I was as excited as everyone. I am a sucker for puppies.

Judy and Julie sat through two hours of orientation as the folks at CCI reviewed the intricate care and training rules for this special puppy, bred from a line of ancestors who were already serving veterans with disabilities.

 

After Dahlia's bath, she was ready to go home with Julie and begin her new adventure. But first!! A stop over to meet me. I couldn't wait!

I explained to Dahlia the "Cat Rules of Play" I required she memorize if our relationship was going to successful and, as you can see, I was delighted. She listened to every word.

 

 
 
 

I inspected her  for any unusual critters and smells. I especially like her puppy breath.  We played only a few minutes, as everyone was tired from the excitement of "The First Training Day Of A Service Dog."

I can't wait until my first playdate with Dahlia. I'll let you know how it goes. Next weekend we are going camping at the beach.

 

 

Sportster's Short Story -Part Two

THE NIGHT THE LIGHTS WENT OUT FOR TOP CAT

PART TWO

By

 Sportster Howard

 

He threw himself at the screen patio door. The rattle in the night traveled down the hall, only my ears turned toward the bedroom. Judy did not stir. She would be safe from my uncontrolled rage. Once I released it no one would be safe.
 Top Cat hung on the screen unlike a lizard on the wall, he glared like El Toro in the bull ring.  I longed to be partnered up with my friend Kona. As much as that standard poodle drove me to distraction with her irritating doggie habits, she had proved to be a quick and cunning hunter. She hunted rabbits and her kills were many. Not smart enough to know the damage Top Cat was capable of inflicting on her pretty black nose,she would attack fearlessly. But she was not here tonight.
Top Cat’s razor nails pierced the only barrier between us as they flashed like knives gleaming in the moonlight. I had been crouched beneath the kitchen table waiting for hours, for weeks. My opponent was nothing to hiss at, but I knew things he did not. Growing up with no claws, I had to learn to fight with my wits and my teeth. And that was what I did.

I sprang against the door while he still hung on the screen. With his weight and now mine, the door lifted from its tracks and crashed onto the tiled patio pinning Top Cat beneath it. No time to check on Judy, I sprang to the edge, and waited for top Cat to escape the crushing weight of the door. Confused, he  no longer focused on taking me down. The door became a large element he had never encountered and he was running scared. I attacked my foe in his race to escape. My teeth sank into his neck and his screech echoed in the night like the cry of a warrior when he realizes he’s going to die.
He twisted then onto his back, nails extended ready to fight to his death. I, too, twisted in anticipation of his defensive move. The scent of Top Cat’s fear triggered my brain to send adrenaline pulsing through my body. My ears lay flat and my tail pointed to the stars. The thrill of impending victory emerged from my throat in my own warrior’s call. Top Cat was going down. No survivors!!
My teeth still buried in his neck, I flung him, knowing the force could break his neck. He flew up the air and slammed to the tile floor. I panted as his still body lay limp, not moving. Every muscle primed I poised ready to pounce. His head lifted, he was dazed. He stood and turned his head in my direction. He did not make eye contact as I stared my eyes still fired with rage but now with victory as well.
He turned away and slinked toward the fence. Every muscle twitched wanting to go again, finish him off, but I kept my position. He would not be back. I had won the battle but I did not want to lose the war. He would carry the message to his wild cat comrades, “Sportster is a true warrior. Let him be.”
I went inside, back down the hall, and finished the night curled up with my mom.

 

SPORTSTER'S SHORT STORY - PART ONE

THE NIGHT THE LIGHTS WENT OUT FOR TOP CAT.

PART ONE
by
Sportster Howard

 

Me being a cat, you would assume I rejoiced when Judy hit those last keystrokes on the computer, THE END, as she finished the last chapter of our newest book, MASADA’S MARINE. Except the cover and design (which is going to be awesome) and writing the acknowledgements (which is long), my job as co-author is complete.

Most folks figure I will return to what cats love to do most, nap, sleep, and purr. Not true. I have not reached the top of the tree of life by sitting on the fence post, like Top Cat, the mangy orange who roams our neighborhood.  This lean, dirty feline reminds me of a persistent predator always hunting as he prowls through heat, rain, and high winds. On too many occasions he had shadowed my door in the dark of the night.

Our showdown was ugly. It played out just like a scene from Gunsmoke, or my favorite old TV western with Steve McQueen, Wanted Dead or Alive.

I love you Steve McQene

 

 

Like my buddy Steve, Top Cat had driven me, with his threatening visits, to my limits of tolerance. I had to mow him down, dead or alive.

That night when he came to taunt me was like every other of his nightly visits. He talked smack to me through the screen, “I’m gonna to take everything you have, soft kitty - that rhinestone necklace around your fat neck, your store bought food and I’ll even sleep with your mama.” He sneered.  I’m gonna grab that scrawny tail of your’n and whip you around til you  see  stars swimming in your head, then dump you with the fishies in the Pacific.” I

The comment about sleeping with my Mom is what pushed me over the edge. I may have been the underdog, with no claws and living the good life but there was only going to be one Top Cat in this town. Like Gunsmoke’s, James Arness, I monitored the trouble maker’s movements from my various lookouts -the kitchen patio door, the front door, and the bedroom window sill. I learned his routine and his ways. Sure I was drawn to envy him and his life as a drifter. Top Cat’s a bounty hunter who makes it his business to investigate any and every bush, rock and tree –all the places of refuge for rabbits, lizards and birds. Imagining his lifestyle sent a titillating thrill through me that twitched my tail, even from my perch inside on the window sill.

I call him Top Cat because he slinks through town filled with the notion he rules the neighborhood. He has put the fear in many of my friends, like Danny Cat, who lives a few doors down and whose only aspiration is to become a Hollywood star. I decided his reign of terror and taunting had to end, Top Cat had to go down.

 That fateful night of the showdown the buzzard cat had pushed me into a rage.  I became the screaming mountain lion ready to pounce on its prey and risked everything to take him down. That night changed my life. Top Cat stormed the front door and I screeched with an anger that took possession of me.  My eyes reflected a red fire of fight.  I only saw my enemy. I slammed my body against the iron security screen door in an attempt to reach him. The metal banged and I saw movement coming up behind me from the living room. I turned and attacked with no hesitation and no regret. I was not going down. Like a veteran home from Iraq in a flashback. “Take no prisoners!”

I have no memory of that night, but the next day Judy showed me several deep punctures lined up and down her legs.  “You did this,” she told me.

 How could it have been me? I would know if I had harmed her, and why would I? For over a week, I felt the gap in our relationship. Judy convinced I had attacked her and me in denial of what I had done. I was confused, but I did understand, for the first time, my position in our relationship was on shaky grounds. She accused me of something I never thought I was capable of doing, and I had no way of proving my innocence.

It was exactly one week later, another Saturday night, when cats are feeling their catnip and are prodded by the crickets chirping   their invisible chorus. Top Cat arrived later than usual. Judy was in bed. If she had been my victim  during the last squirmish, I was relieved tonight she was out of the way and only hoped Top Cat would be on the receiving  end of my wrath..

 He came to the patio screen door. I saw his white flea collar glow in a moonbeam.  He was stealthy, but I had been waiting all week. I hadn’t slept. This was the night it would end. Top Cat was going down, dead or alive. If I survived.

Gotta take a nap!! Stay tuned!

 

 

 

Oorah!

I have been away from home since Thursday. Before I left  for Tuscon, Arizona I worked  long hours at the Canine Beauty Salon, my mom's pet grooming salon. You might wonder about my position there, and my duties, after all,  the name does not refer to the feline species.

 I am a silent partner. The public  is not aware of my importance to the operation.

Many of the clients think I am  only a fluffy kitten but it is not the case.

My most important function is to greet the clients in the reception area. I have distracted many a nervous pooch who came in shivering at the thought of his  bath. Granted, I don't like my bath either, but a slinking cat slinking  is enough to take the dog's  mind off the inevitable  event and hope perhaps he   might  enjoy one more  cat chasing thrill.

You would be surprised. It is the owners who need the diversion more than their pets. I do not  understood the separation issue. Of course, I play the  lonely card very well when Judy returns home after  she has left me alone all day. I meow alot and rub up against her leg her computer, her chair, everything.She believes I missed her, and that is all that matters.

I have trained the staff  in the awareness of my irreplaceable position so they are diligent, keeping me satisfied with treats  throughout my shift.

 

 

You can imagine with such a high powered job I was eager to hit the road.  We spent our first night on BLM land outside of Quartzite, Az.  and watched the sun go down.

 

 

Most of the desert surrounding Quartzite, Az. is unimproved  land   managed by the government allowing free camping. As we  passed by Hasslers RV Park on Main St. Judy wondered if the owner had created any new sculptures since we had been there in January. Remember these?

I heard Judy tell someone how much she likes her solar panels and the money she's saved already. She explained  the money  was going into a kitty? She'd better not be thinking what I'm thinking!! There will only one cat in this motor home!

 

 

We arrived at the Pima Fairgrounds in Tuscon  early enough to stroll around  the campsite a bit after Judyvisited another author friend staying at the campgrounds, Nick Russell of The Gypsy RV Journal . When the sun went down we cuddled up in bed with a good book by B. K Gore, A Matter of Honor by Brian Gore. Judy had a big day ahead of her.

 

I spent the next two days  in the parking lot at The Tucson Festival Of Books while Judy  participated as a volunteer the first day, and  did a book signing the following afternoon.  Check out Judy's Blog, The Writings Of A Wandering Widow, to catch up on her adventures...too many for me.

 

 

The weekend is finished and we are now enjoying some down time at the Rovers Roost and Escapee Park in Casa Grande, Az

Don't let anything stand in your way. Nothing is impossible. I wonder what is on the other side of this block wall. It goes on forever.

Hmmmm?

 








I think I can do it.I know I can do it.



Oohrah! I did it!

THE WRITINGS OF A WANDERING WIDOW: TOMORROW! TOMORROW! FREE TO MY READERS!

THE WRITINGS OF A WANDERING WIDOW: TOMORROW! TOMORROW! FREE TO MY READERS!: In anticipation of   the release   of my new book,   MASADA’S MARINE,   The journey of   a service dog and her Marine ,   I am offering a ...

MY DUMMY VALENTINE