Our cats

I dedicated my book to my wife Amy and to our two cats, Lucy and Rita. Naturally, I had to squeeze those two little furballs into my story!

During my fight with sarcoma cancer in late October of 2018, which was the time after my left leg had been amputated but before we found out that the cancer had spread into my lungs, we had just finished up with our dentist in Kingston – about a 90-minute drive east from our home between Sequim and Port Angeles. After our appointments, we stopped in at a local real estate office to visit a friend, and while we were waiting for her return from some real estate business, there was a cat adoption storefront in the same building that housed the real estate office, so we popped in to look at the little rascals.

Our senior boy cat Buzzie, who had traveled with us on our big adventure, had passed away a little more than 19 months prior, and I think that I, in particular, was missing the companionship that pets bring into a home. When we entered the adoption center, there was tiny little Rita, up on her back legs with her front paws scratching at the glass front of her cage, squeaking at the top of her lungs. I could almost hear her shout, “Take me home with you! I’ll be a good girl!” My wife was looking at the other cats, and I bent down so I could look Rita in the eyes as I made her this promise: “You’re coming home with us, honey.”

Meanwhile, Amy had found another adorable kitten around the corner named Paula, and we soon came to the realization that we’d be bringing two kittens home with us that day. The adoption center employee brought Rita over and placed her into Paula’s cage to see if the two would bond, and they immediately began playing with each other. We were good with Rita keeping her given name, but we renamed Paula to Lucy.

We refer to them as sisters, but they are not. Rita was born in Kingston and had been around a family with children who played with her until they gave her up for adoption. Lucy, on the other hand, was a feral cat from Ocean Shores. As such, their personalities are like night and day. When the doorbell rings, Rita comes running to see who it is and immediately makes her presence known by rubbing their legs or jumping up on the kitchen island so she can start purring and “talking” at them. Lucy runs off and hides in the closet.

In my book, a cat named Rita makes her appearance as George enters the Wellness Center for an interview. That Rita is our Rita. I decided to name my homeless character Lucy in honor of our other little kitty, who was once homeless and no doubt experienced a traumatic first few months of her life living on the streets and in the woods.