Exercising regularly
has always been on a cat’s priority list. We don’t live out our nine lives because
all we do is sleep. We always receive bad press concerning our lifestyle.
Even Judy
plays that card. She wants everyone to think she is the only one who
works like the hummingbirds outside our office window, flitting around
doing, seminars, book signings, and research, or when she’s home, writing,
editing, critiquing, and blogging, messaging, and twittering.
I don't want to
steal her thunder. She has even sworn me to secrecy. She gave me these adorable
pics to post as a cover for what I am actually working on. Again, the sleeping,
lazy theme. Really?
 |
| I mean REALLY? |
Okay, Judy did insist
I post these head shots. . She is promoting her audio books, COAST TO COAST WITH
A CAT AND A GHOST and GOING HOME WITH A CAT AND A GHOST.
My point about exercising? About living nine lives? When you work on the treadmill or take a long hike, listen to audio books. Be entertained while you lengthen your life.
This week we are
giving away a FREE AUDIO BOOK of GOING HOME WITH A CAT AND A GHOST. All
you need to do is enter the drawing by typing your name in the comment box. Next Thursday I will personally, and randomly, select a
name and announce the lucky winner. The following week we will repeat
the drawing for A FREE AUDIO BOOK of COAST TO COAST WITH A CAT AND A GHOST. So don’t forget. Type your name in the comment box.. After the drawing we will only use your
information to line my litter box.
So there you have
it, the reason for this post.
BUT WAIT!
Judy’s in the living
room watching her favorite show, Blacklist.
Do you want to read the first
chapter of my novel!
THAT’S RIGHT! MY, MY, MY NOVEL!
But you’ve got to keep
the secret under your collar. Judy
hasn’t decided on an appropriate title yet, but I’m calling My novel….Get ready
for it…
Get Ready For It!!
SPORTSTER’S ADVENTURES!!
Scroll Down
( Drum roll )
SPORTSTER’S
ADVENTURES
BY
JUDY
HOWARD
Sportster,
The Awesome Cat
CHAPTER
ONE
My eyes sprang open. Judy’s frightened scream joined the
protesting motor home and my body pressed against the windshield. Tires
screeched mixing with the squeal of metal and squalling fiberglass. Our house
lurched off the road, airborne, like the birds I envied. My body flattened hard
against the windshield, which had kept me insulated from the outside world.
Jagged lines crawled and crunched across the once unobstructed view while
branches, rocks and dirt pounded the varicose pattern until it gave way. Encased
inside, we sailed, as if we would meet the heavens. For a moment, we soared. Silence
overtook, giving a false sense of sublime safety, only to be broken by a
crashing jolt. The vehicle squashed onto the ground and the tires exploded. .
My body, forced from its cozy cocoon as an egg from its shell, flew through
green scented air, not like small birds on the wing, but rather like the hawk
on a deadly dive to earth for prey.
In its flight, my body puffed to
twice its size as the wind swept through every follicle of hair that now stood on
end. I sailed on, penetrating the forest’s first line of pines. I landed solid. The force trumpeted a
warrior’s call from inside my lungs – a last-stand challenge, which chased the
boiling fear swelling within my chest. The bold roar, defying the wild, went
unheard, absorbed like a pillow to my face, smothered by the only sound the
rain forest allowed – silence.
Moments before I had been
stretched out on my usual spot across the motorhome’s dash. The engine purred as Judy, my companion who
attended to my every need, drove. “It’s time to say goodbye to the Rain Forest,
Sportster. We’re heading home.” Like the motor I, too, purred as the lush green
landscape sped by. If cats were of the inclination to make lists, the
campground we had left would have made number one for me. During our stay I had
prowled beneath the ferns on pine-needled carpet, which felt as soft as a cat’s
paw. Strange scents had stimulated my active imagination, and I dreamed of
roaming as my ancestors had. Wasn’t that how I was born to live? I’ll admit, my
home on wheels had a deep luxurious rug and my own tiger-striped, cushy bed,
but the wild is what I had always yearned for as we drove away, only moments
before, on to our next destination.
I continued to crouch where I landed and
gathered my senses. Peering through the
trees, I watched the vehicles’ wheels spin in the air .and vapor hiss from the
hood. An occasional ping mixed with the quiet. Judy was nowhere in sight.
How many hours passed before I stood
on all four shaky legs? In my lifetime I have not been inclined to track time.
My eyes, large and round, scanned the area, my tail twitched, and I squeaked
out a small meow, but hoped the forest muffled my cry as it had my warrior’s
shout... This was no time to play the kitten’s role.
Nothing had changed in the forest. The ferns
draped as they had yesterday and the trees remained warm, wrapped in their
cloaks of moss. I examined every
hovering shadow under each frond and every blade of grass glistening with sunlight.
Nothing had changed, and yet, I sensed
nothing would ever be the same. Wary of the deceiving quiet, I dared a step,
then another, my plan - to seek reassurance from Judy.
Sirens, faint in the distance,
gave me pause. I moved deeper into the forest as they grew louder, until their
shrieks pulsed in my ears. Outside, on the road, flashing lights pierced into
the pines and glared upon the maple leaves, discoloring their golden colors. Slamming
doors and strangers’ shouts sent me shrinking into a fallen log’s dark recess.
I waited. The noise abated. The sirens
squealed again, then drifted down the highway. Once more, the rain forest
became quiet except for the occasional swish of a vehicle on the road. I waited
to be sure. The sun moved across the sky and passed up my naptime. Still I
waited. Invisible under the log, I studied the birds who still chirped their
warnings as the sirens faded away I
began to absorb the scents and sounds of my surroundings, examining and
evaluating. Invisible under the log. A large Elk tip-toed by so close I tucked my
tail under my trembling body, his odor so strong, my eyes watered.
Shadows crept across the forest floor,
stopping the invasion of sunlight into the thick foliage. The maples turned
grey and the green pines melted to black. Darkness overcame the forest bringing
with it an increasing stillness. The
moths and insects I had enjoyed chasing yesterday at the campsite now flitted
and danced in the fading light, taunting me, as if they knew I did not belong.
The shelter of darkness instilled
in me a fragment of courage, enough for me to venture out from hiding. With
each cautious step I paused, always listening, always sniffing, aware for the
first time in my eight years that my eyesight was sharpest at night. I peered out from the forest’s edge.
There in the grass lay Judy’s
sweatshirt. The one I loved to curl up on when she left it on her bed. She
would find me there, push her face into my fur, and make sputtering noises that
tickled my tummy. Of course I jumped up and walked away so she would not grow
accustomed to my bewitching charm. The
memory caused my heart to flutter, and I scanned the expanse between the forest
and the road. I whimpered. What had
become of Judy? I expanded my search mission,
my courage diminishing with each step. Desperation pushed me into the clearing.
My overturned water and food dishes rested on a clump of grass, kibble sprinkled
the area. My stomach growled, reminding me of its presence, and I realized I
was ravenous with hunger. I crunched down a few kernels as I investigated the
scene. My bothersome rhinestone collar hung on a nearby bush. Like glitter on a
Christmas tree, the garnets caught the moonlight and the gold ID tag glowed. The
scents of strangers rose from the motorhome’s deep gashes in the damp earth. And Judy’s! I circled the area again, but the
trail went nowhere. I circled one last time. Perhaps I had been careless. I
reexamined pieces of the motorhome scattered here and there, glass from the
headlight, a towel and a map - scraps from our life.
When the moon moved to the top of
the sky, I collapsed on Judy’s soft sweatshirt and waited. My eyes drooped, but
I struggled remaining vigilant until daylight threatened to reveal my position.
I then I made one more sweep and slipped back into the woods. I
would wait.
***********
While you are waiting for my book,
Don't Forget.
EVERY HOUR A VETERAN COMMITS SUICIDE.
