Blame It On The Cats

Writing sometimes requires some patience around here, which means shooing cats away from my keyboard while I'm trying to write.  We've got plenty of them both here and at the shop across town.  By shop, I mean Line Camp Guitar Shop, a place I've owned for a while now.  When I'm not writing, I'm piddling around with a musical instrument of some kind, usually a guitar.  I took up making guitars back in the 1980s, still do it from time to time.  And I collect musical instruments.  The Line Camp is home to a lot of things I've acquired over the years, including some cats.  They seem to find me, both there at the shop and here at home.  Here on Parkview Drive, I've got about 15 cats hanging around - some inside cats, and some who live outside.  In all, I feed about 30 cats, and that takes lots of cat food, and then there are the vet bills.

Here's an example of what a cat lover like me can get caught up in.  Dogs attacked a kitten in front of my house about 3 months ago, nearly tore it to pieces before my wife chased them off.  When I picked the kitten up, only about 6 weeks old then, it appeared to be dying.  So, we called the veterinarian and rushed it to the hospital.  He didn't think its chances were good, but I told him to try and save the kitten.  And, he did.  We named him Lucky, and he's still with us.  He has scars, a disfigured face, and perhaps more surgery ahead of him, but he's the happiest cat I've got.  He's a miracle kitten to have survived at all.  He fits right in with a three legged cat I own, one that same vet saved years ago.  And there's other salvation cats around here, animals that would've died had someone not taken care of them.  Maybe I'm stupid, but I can't turn my back on an injured animal. 

So, even though I had no specific intent in mind, I've ended up running my own private cat shelter.  Part of my motivation for publishing books is so I can afford to take care of cats.  It's a good thing I'm married to a cat lover.