Fup. Store Cat.
The Trip to Kahani
Wiggums's farm is plush. Pasture and woods, a barn and a stable and family.
Fup's country cousins (Wiggums, Barleycorn, Midget, Carbuncle, and Eliza) have
been anticipating her arrival for days. For the cats it's like being able to breathe
again: being around familiar faces after trudging so many tired miles.
Tucked into a pocket of pines sits the farmhouse. Its giant covered porch
overlooks a long pasture. Afternoon shadows creep closer toward the house. Bear,
sprawled across a weathered but immensely comfortable sofa, suggests, "We should
spend summers here, escape the city heat."
With a chance to relax finally, it occurs to Fup how sore she is from all
the walking. She tells Wiggums, "Maybe we just won't leave. We'll subsist on
mice and sparrows."
"And mallards," Bear adds.
The mallard snorts. This is what he gets for hanging out with cats.
Wiggums informs Fup, "Your sisters are thoroughly enjoying the bookstore,
by the way. Ro spends all day in the aisles, interacting with customers. Clara
apparently prefers the attic. She asked me to ask you where the extra catnip
balls are stashed."
Zooey lies a bit apart, off by himself on the mat at the top of the stairs.
In place of green pasture in front of the porch he imagines his own yard: the
familiar dogwood and rhododendron, the one-two-three-four-five-six-seven-eight
steps down to the sidewalk. And, the worst, his housemates going about their
days without him.
That Cat That Changed My Life: 50 Cats Talk About How They Became Who They Are
by Bruce Eric Kaplan
"All these cats lead exciting and varied lives wholly independent of the human
race," notes the editor in his Introduction. Well, duh. Scant attention has
been paid to the role of community in modern cat culture, so what a relief that
here, finally, fifty articulate felines set the record straight. Funny, sad,
occasionally shocking, but never less than true, these brave monologues
reaffirm our interdependency in ways that choreographed public displays such as
Paws Across America never can.
Poems by Writers' Dogs
by Amy Hempel
In "Dog Kibble," Tasha Baxter's verse exhibits a brutal economy of
words: "Life is never meaningless," her villanelle announces, "there is
always food." Here and throughout this collection these authors demand
your attention, as if to bark, "You can send me to my room for yelling
at the neighbors but you cannot silence what woofs in my heart!" Among
the selections nominated for Best
American Writing by Pets 2000 are Bob Barker Barry's sordid and hilarious
hallucinogenic escapades with Lynda; a tragic, posthumous prose poem by
Marrow Irving; and Sadie Louise Lamott's "Spoon River Sadie Louise," a
wildly metered exploration of the cross-cultural dynamics within a
household occupied by dogs, cats, birds, and small children. The sheer
intellect of these collected pieces will renew your faith in dogs.
Is Your Cat Too Fat?
by Bronwen Meredith
Too fat for what? And what business is it of this Meredith person's
anyway? Bronwen sounds like the kind of lady I wouldn't like at all.