Snow White. Loud purrs fill the air as six cats rub against my legs, and then
quickly disperse when a golden retriever barrels through the furry crowd almost
tackling me and smothering me with sloppy kisses. Is there any feeling in the
world equal to the unconditional love of a treasured pet?
My pets are not only members of our family but also my best
friends. I tell them my deepest, darkest, secrets and the good, the bad, and the
ugly parts of my day. I share my works-in-progress, and read my dialogue to them
aloud. Yeah, I know they can’t critique my work but it helps to hear the
conversations between my characters aloud, especially when I’m editing. Life is
better when my furry friends are by my side.
Then again, sometimes my furry friends are way too close. My
male Ragdoll cat Jasper, who would look like Brad Pitt if he was a human, has an
undying need to step on my laptop and then collapse on the keyboard, rolling
around as if he’s making a snow angel. If I take a break I better bring my
laptop with me or there will be some interesting lines added to my manuscript
when I return.
Chloe and Daisy, twin sister Ragdoll cats who look completely
different, along with the Bluebell and Strypes, who decided to show up at my
doorstep and adopt me, have a fetish for anything made of paper. Whether I’m
plotting out a new novel, completing my character worksheets, or reading the
daily paper, they all find it necessary to lie on any paper that’s near me.
Don’t think the newspaper if off limits if you’re holding it. Nope, they swat at
it with their paws and slowly force it to the tabletop or couch before launching
themselves onto it.
Our newest rescue, Tabitha, is tortoise shell Persian with a
heart of gold. She can’t get enough love and I’m thrilled she finally has the
home she deserves. She lends her support by lying right next to me and placing
her paw on my leg. It’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen and it really does make
me feel like she’s genuinely there for me.
Last, but certainly not least, is my Golden Retriever puppy
Sadie. At six months old she’s full of energy (I wish I could bottle some of
that energy up and use it when I’m drained). Like most dogs, she loves attention
and finds it very confusing as to the reason I’d be doing something other than
playing with her or petting her on the couch. She must think I’m lonely when I’m
writing because she gathers all of her toys, one by one, and sets them by my
side. Then she places her head on my lap and gives me the saddest puppy dog eyes
you’ve ever seen. How can anyone resist that?