Welcome Heather Parker for the October Blog Tour!

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The Sweetest Day

Or Cats Are People Too

Here in England, we don’t celebrate The Sweetest Day. Or if we do, the custom has never made it to the wilds of the Lake District, which seems a pity. Maybe the world needs more days like this. I looked it up on Wikipedia and discovered it’s “an opportunity to remember not only the sick, aged and orphaned, but also friends, relatives and associates whose helpfulness and kindness we have enjoyed.”

Someone else described it as a cynical ploy by sweet manufacturers to sell their products but I prefer the first definition. I’m rather partial to chocolate.

I tried thinking about sweet things that have happened to me during Octobers in the past - and one stands out in my memory. Actually the events occurred over a few days and involve cats rather than people but perhaps I might be allowed artistic licence. And without these cats, my novel, Middlewitch, would never have been born…

It all began six years ago, just before Halloween, when I spotted a painfully thin, ginger and white cat peeping out of our barn. This little mite turned out to be the first of five half-grown feral kittens, lost and roaming our Lakeland valley. We think the mother had been driven out here and abandoned because she was pregnant. People aren’t always sweet.

At first we couldn’t get near them. They were young, terrified and had never known a human. Gradually we persuaded them to take food in the barn, and everyday we moved their bowls closer to us. Four of the pathetic kittens were barely surviving but the fifth one was desperate. Finally my husband decided to take a chance and grabbed him. I think pussy must have been taken aback but Chris survived without stitches. And his hand only hurts now when it’s cold.

We carried him (the kitten) into the house and kept him there, desperately trying to persuade him to trust us. Only a few days later, he reached out a small, tentative paw and I offered him a ping-pong ball. A simple show of good faith and our battle was over! After our initial success, we managed to cajole and trap the four remaining kittens without major injury and a local animal shelter found good homes for three of them. Which only left two remaining…

The first tamed was Tango, one of the two cats in my novel, and the inspiration behind the original idea of Middlewitch. We knew we couldn’t part with him, but he was devoted to his ginger and white brother, so what could we do? And anyone who’s read Middlewitch will recognise that one as the famous Domino, although in the book he’s been mysteriously transformed into Tango’s father.

Strange village, Middlewitch…

Gradually they became friends with our other cats and dogs and these extraordinary wild creatures have given us endless pleasure over the years. Their devotion has been intense – almost as if they’re trying to show us how much our home and companionship have meant to them. Tango and Domino are proof of the old adage - a kind action always brings its own reward. Or, alternatively - no good deed ever goes unpunished. Domino is still partial to a tasty houseplant and Tango enjoys sharpening his claws on the banisters. We’re still glad they found us. And without the friendship of these two cats, Middlewitch would never have happened.

My husband commented casually one day, “Why don’t you write a book about Tango and Domino?”

Actually I suspect he had a non-fiction book in mind or maybe a picture book for children. But it still gave me the idea. And the cats can’t really be held responsible for the witches, vampires and demonic possessions in the book. They’re much too nice for that…

Thanks, Meredith, for hosting this post for me on your blog. And congratulations on your book, Unseelie!

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