Category Archives: pet stories

Two Kinds of Cats

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Today’s post is a call back to “Pet Words of Wisdom” from March 2024, posted just after we had to say goodbye to our beloved cat, Mittens, who was nearly eighteen when he passed. He was the last of the six cats in the many years my wife and I have lived in our little house. All of them brought great joy and liveliness to our home. After he died, we decided we needed a break.

That break ended last Saturday when we adopted Maeve and Moxie, pair of nine-month old kittens, who were part of the last litter born to an outdoor colony. The two were very underweight when they went into foster care, but now are glowing with life, love and energy.

Maeve in a rare moment of rest.

Moxie imitating a work of art, with the window frame serving as a faux picture frame.

Suddenly our quiet house has returned to an earlier time, with cat toys strewn about and the thundering of small paws down the hallway at 2AM when the wee furry ones have zoomies in the wee hours.

Now, despite being a lifelong “servant to cats” as well as a friend to dogs, I hadn’t included a pet in any of my books until my second Meg Booker mystery, Book Drop Dead, which sees Meg adopt a stray kitten she finds outside the library. However, little Honorius does not help solve any murders.

Writing a cozy featuring pets that are involved in solving a mystery is enticing, but of course there are already many such mysteries out there. Not that that’s ever stopped me before when an idea takes hold, but, just as I did with cozies in general, I’d want to read a stack of pet mysteries.

I’m already huge fan of Jeffrey Poole’s Corgi Casefiles series which give much inspiration for a potential pet-centered mystery, with his clue-detecting corgis Sherlock and Watson.

Now if I were to write a “pet helps solve mystery” novel it would of course have to star a cat or cats.

With that in mind I have Rita Mae Brown’s Mrs. Murphy cat mysteries, Shirley Rosseau Murphy’s Joe Grey series, Lillian Jackson Brown’s Cat Who books, and Miranda James’ Cat in the Stacks series on my to-be-read list of cat mysteries.

In honor of cats in mystery fiction, today we have an excerpt a from 2024 post by Elaine Vets on including pets in mysteries, as well as a 2016 post by James Scott Bell, on herding very different kinds of “CATS.”

Both post are well worth reading in full.

We all know that getting a reader inside a lead character’s head is one of the keys to compelling fiction. But it has to be done seamlessly so it doesn’t jerk us out of the narrative and put a crimp in the fictive dream.

Which means we have to learn to handle what I call “Character Alone Thinking Scenes” (CATS) in a deft manner.

The first issue is whether to begin the book with a CATS. As last Wednesday’s first-page critique demonstrated (in my view, at least) the answer should almost always be No. 

Why? Because we have to have a little personal investment in someone before we can care deeply about their feelings.

Imagine going to a party and you’re introduced to a fellow with a drink in his hand. You say, “How are you?” and the guy says, “I’m really depressed, man, I wake up every day and the room looks dark and the sun never shines, even though it’s out there, and I don’t see it because of the dark dankness in my soul, and life has lost its meaning, its luster, whatever it was it once had for me when I was young and ready to take on the world. Ya know?”

AHHHH!!!!

Well, the beginning of a book is like walking into a party. The reader wants to meet interesting people. And interest is aroused by what people do. The way you catch readers from the start is through action and disturbance, not feeling and expounding. 

I can’t tell you the number of manuscripts I’ve read over the years that did not begin with a real scene, but instead opted for the inside of a character’s head. What I usually do in such cases is flip the pages until I get to some dialogue, because that automatically means we’re in a scene. And 98% of the time that is the best place to start. (Sure, an argument can be made that a great style might be enough to carry the opening pages. But it better be truly great and truly brief.)

So, re: the opening—save your CATS for later.

Once you’re into the novel there are two types of CATS to herd—active and reactive.

In an active scene, the character is alone but with a major scene objective (something that materially relates to the plot), and thinks while trying to overcome whatever scene obstacles are in her way.

In a reactive scene, the character is alone with a chance to reflect. She may be thinking about what’s already happened in the story, or her current psychological state, or the other characters. When done well, reactive scenes strengthen our emotional bond with the character.

James Scott Bell—October 1, 2017

 

I’m writing a new mystery series set in South Florida. Here’s one of the hairiest problems I considered: did I want my protagonist to have a pet?

I like pets, and they’re popular with mystery readers. Especially cat and dog mysteries.

Many cozy readers are familiar with Laurie Cass’s Bookmobile Cat series. And that’s just the start of the good felines. There are series with Cat Cafes, Klepto Cats, Magical Cats, witches’ cats, library cats, bookstore cats and more.

Cats who talk and solve mysteries aren’t my cup of tea – my cats can’t even open a can of food for dinner. But what do I know? Readers love felines who can perform semi-human feats.

I could also give my new protagonist a dog. Dog mysteries are definite people pleasers. There’s a pack of them, including David Rosenfelt’s series, featuring work-avoiding, dog loving lawyer Andy Carpenter and his golden retriever, Tara.

Tara is a lovable companion. Other mystery series feature working dogs, such as FBI special agent Sara Driscoll and her search and rescue Labrador, Hawk.

Here are more good reasons to have pets in mysteries:

Walking a dog is a good way to meet people.

Animals are good judges of character. Dogs (and some cats) can rescue or defend you, warn you with a timely bark or hiss, even uncover a clue.

A pet in your mystery can be plus. Readers identify with pets. “Your cat reminds me of my orange tabby, Ginger. She loves to . . .”

But there are major downsides to consider. Pets need care. Your detective can’t be on the track of a killer and suddenly stop the investigation to make a phone call. (“Psst! Mark. I’m staking out the killer’s house. Will you walk my corgi? I just got a new living room rug.”)

Dogs also have to be fed and groomed. Cats are a little more easy care. Your detective can open a big bag of dry food and leave out a bowl of water, but sooner or later the litter box has to be cleaned.

Janet Evanovich’s Stephanie Plum series has a unique, easy-care animal, a hamster named Rex. Rex lives in a cage on her kitchen counter. Rex sleeps in a soup can and runs on his hamster wheel. Stephanie occasionally tosses him a grape for a treat.

But she’s such a good writer, Rex seems real. Once, some thugs held Rex for ransom, and I genuinely hoped the little critter would survive.

For this new series, I decided to go pet-free.

Elaine Viets—August 8, 2024

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  1. Do you enjoy reading mysteries about pets? Any favorites?
  2. Have you included pets in your fiction? If so, what sort and in what fashion?
  3. How do you herd JSB’s “CATS” when you write?

Reader Friday-Goodbye To A Friend

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I hope a little indulgence is in order on The Killzone today.

6/18/2014-1/14/2025 . . . Play hard, sweet Hoka

We lost a good friend on Tuesday, January 14th. Her name was Hoka, the smartest German shepherd in the universe. It happened quickly. The vet thinks it was a stroke. She would have been eleven in June, and we’d kept company with her for nine years and one month.

We’ve had other dogs, but none as human as Hoka.

A little history: She was rescued from the local shelter by our daughter, who was able to be her mom for three months. When she moved to San Diego, she couldn’t take Hoka with her. She was named after Jessica’s favorite running/hiking shoe, and was her companion on the trails.

Jessica brought her to us to get acquainted, and it was love at first sight. When she came to live with us she was about a year and a half old, give or take. It was like a toddler moving in with gramma and grampa.

Let the games begin!

She had two speeds . . . fast and stop. She liked to chase cars along our rural dirt road—from inside our fence line, of course. Our neighbor once clocked her at 32 mph.

She had a human vocabulary of about twenty or so words and phrases, she was scared of gunfire, loved harassing our neighbors’ cats and cows from across the fence, and was always ready to jump in the Jeep and go to town with us. And, believe it or not, she could tell time. She knew when it was bedtime, and she knew–at 7am every morning–it was time to trek over to the west side of our property to chase away any of the neighbor’s cats who dared stray over our fence.

We walk the orchards around us every day and she went with us. The last few days, I’ve even taken pictures of her paw prints around our property and out in the orchards.

And my Dad. We took her three times a week to see him, and he loved her as much as we do. Many of the other residents in his facility  insisted on petting her. She was everybody’s dog, and she knew it.

There’s not a square inch of our house and five acres that her paws did not touch. She watched out for us as much as we took care of her. Every part of our daily schedule–now ten days without her–included her.

First, we learned to navigate life with Hoka; now we must learn to steer ourselves without her.

It’s going to be a long journey before we can let her lie without tears, but I know she’s getting acquainted with the other three dogs we’ve buried.

Hoka, keep running. We’ll come and play with you some day.

 

* * *

 

Thank you, TKZers, for listening to me and understanding why I had to write this post. Many of you have shared your pets with us, so I know you “get it”.

 

Your comments and memories are most welcome.

 

 

One Life That Still Touches Me

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I was remembering our old dog, Feliz, the other day after I had found her collar in a box and wanted to share something that I had written to get past the profound sorrow of losing her.

Feliz had passed from this life after sixteen years of sharing her love. And as we knew it would, her death broke our hearts. Grief manifests itself in many ways. We still hear the click of her nails on tile, still see her shadow at the door, and we still linger at the garage, waiting for her to show and claim a biscuit. All of these moments are products of our wishful thinking and old habits are hard to deny, but it’s amazing how well she trained us. And if Stephen King’s story in Pet Sematary were true, we’d gladly welcome her back to this life, even if she were the spawn of Satan. That’s how much we loved her. She would always enjoy her dog playpen. If you wanted to learn more about dog playpens check out this guide on dog playpens.

Her full name was Feliz Navidog. Yes, she was a Christmas present, but not for us. We had given her to my parents with the caveat that if they truly didn’t want a puppy, they could return her to us. And within two weeks, back she came. In hindsight, she was the best present we ever got. We nearly called her Boomerang, but in Spanish, the word Feliz translates to ‘happy’ and that suited her just fine. She always had a smile on her face.

When she was a pup, she had a dark muzzle, one ear up and one down, a curled tail and an unfaltering bounce to her step. People often asked us what breed she was. In truth, she was a German Shepherd Chow mix, but we lovingly called her a “Somma Dog”—because she was somma dis, somma dat. But one man’s mutt is another man’s idea of perfection.

And Feliz had many admirable skills, despite her questionable lineage.

She was a practitioner of puppy telepathy, transmitting her thoughts to us with a meaningful stare. And she spoke the language of human beings with unfailing accuracy, developing an extensive vocabulary. Balancing a biscuit on the end of her nose then tossing it into her mouth had become her signature move. And in later years, she mastered sign language when her hearing was failing. Who says you can’t teach an old dog new tricks? I remember we bought her one of the best dog strollers and used to push her around the village when she was getting older. I have such great memories of her.

And every morning of her life—without fail—she awoke for the sole purpose of pleasing us. We saw it in her face and felt it on her warm wet tongue. She never tired of the routine or the mundane, even after her joints got stiff and her eyesight grew dim—because in her mind, she was always that puppy with a bounce in her step. Luckily we had read some pet insurance reviews and bought some pet insurance, since vet bills can get pretty expensive. She was totally worth all the costs though.

Dogs remind us that love should be unconditional. And in their world, friendships begin with a well-placed and unerring sniff—completely devoid of an ulterior motive or personal agenda. If you pass the sniff test, you’re in. No cover charge and no membership fee. And with a mere wag of a tail, a dog can make you smile and lift your spirits. We can all learn from them—because their love comes from a higher place.

I’d love for you to share your pet stories. Do you have a favorite pet?