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| The setting for the 3rd book in the series: Sing A Song Of Sixpence, takes place mainly in the Lake District of Northern England. However, Bhu Fan and Hawkeye are very much in the thick of things. The Scottish wildcat, a very highly endangered species of wild feline: felis silvestris grampia, makes a 'guest' appearance. And I have to add, I hope he does not go extinct. He is a cat about the same size as the Maine Coon. He deserves everyone's efforts to save his kind. To see some fascinating photos, go to www.scottishwildcats.co.uk/index.html. You will also find books*, photos and a DVD there(although the DVD won't work on American players. I'm told, though, it can be seen on one's PC.) *Below is a picture of the cover of Mike Tomkies' book Wildcat Haven. I have it and I urge anyone who enjoys reading about cats and their wild predecessors to get it from the website listed above. It is a fascinating book and will leave you firmly on the side of this beleaguered feline. |
The items on this page will change
from time to time; things I find
interesting about cats, notes
from readers, photos or drawings.
And if you're interested in the
Maine Coon in particular, go to
www.mcbfa.org which is the
official site of the Maine Coon
Breeders and Fanciers
Association which has a magazine
for all members if you'd like to
subscribe.
GQ
from time to time; things I find
interesting about cats, notes
from readers, photos or drawings.
And if you're interested in the
Maine Coon in particular, go to
www.mcbfa.org which is the
official site of the Maine Coon
Breeders and Fanciers
Association which has a magazine
for all members if you'd like to
subscribe.
GQ
Bulletin Board
The Kitten Soup Cookbook is a
fundraiser for the Cat Care Society,
a cats-only shelter at 5787 W 6th Ave
Lakewood, CO. 80214. The price is
$20. They make great gifts for cat
lovers. Contact Jane Dorsey at
ccsvolunteer@catcaresociety.org.
Their phone number is
303 239 9680 ex. 16
fundraiser for the Cat Care Society,
a cats-only shelter at 5787 W 6th Ave
Lakewood, CO. 80214. The price is
$20. They make great gifts for cat
lovers. Contact Jane Dorsey at
ccsvolunteer@catcaresociety.org.
Their phone number is
303 239 9680 ex. 16
Another new character in Sing A Song Of
Sixpence is Loki, the Canadian Lynx. His is
another endangered species of wild feline and
he's in not much better shape than the
Scottish Wildcat. And in addition to loss of
habitat, it's this guy's pelt that is in great
demand. And you really don't want to know
what I think about humans who like to dress
themselves in other creatures' skins. I'm
aware we all wear shoes of leather but furs are
a whole different ball game. And because he's
a bit closer to home, we can do a great deal to
preserve this beautiful cat for future
generations. As the old slogan goes: "just do
it!"
Sixpence is Loki, the Canadian Lynx. His is
another endangered species of wild feline and
he's in not much better shape than the
Scottish Wildcat. And in addition to loss of
habitat, it's this guy's pelt that is in great
demand. And you really don't want to know
what I think about humans who like to dress
themselves in other creatures' skins. I'm
aware we all wear shoes of leather but furs are
a whole different ball game. And because he's
a bit closer to home, we can do a great deal to
preserve this beautiful cat for future
generations. As the old slogan goes: "just do
it!"
At that moment in time, my husband and I had 3 dogs: a black lab, a
weimaraner and a borzoi, and 3 cats, all Siamese. I had been juried into the
Waterfowl Festival in Easton, Maryland with my stained and etched glass and
we had loaded up the big Ford cargo van and were on our way from
Tennessee to the Eastern Shore. Along the way, we stopped to visit friends in
Potomac, Maryland who had a small 'farm' on some 20 acres outside of the
town. When we pulled into the circle in front of the house at the end of the
drive, we were greeted by the most humongous cat I had ever glimpsed. While
I'd never seen this breed before, I knew exactly what it was: a brown mackerel
Maine Coon. And what a cat he was! And unlike most cats upon first sighting,
he did not slink away nor simply stand his ground. He came up to us waving
his huge plumey tail and talking a mile a minute. "How are you? Welcome. Do
come in and make yourselves at home"....Both my husband, Bear, and I were
thoroughly captivated by this feline who behaved more like a dog than a cat.
At dinner that night, our host talked about this shaggy greeter they had
named Deuteronomy, after one of the characters in the stage show "Cats." It
seems that he had showed up at their door a couple of weeks previous and
quickly and quietly insinuated himself into their household. We both, Bear and
I, admitted our fascination with this big boy. Alas, Chuck said, they were going
to have to take him to the shelter as they already had a barn full of cats and
felt they were at max capacity. They had no idea where he'd come
from--purebred though he certainly was. They had placed an ad in the local
paper, posted notices but to no avail. Whoever he had belonged to--and he
was sleek and well cared for--was either no longer around or he was a
transient who'd gotten away from a passing vehicle. At any rate, though,
Chuck said, they simply couldn't keep him.
I told our host to put away his violin. No more exclamations of disowning the
big guy were necessary. We would take him home with us. BUT! It would have
to wait until after the festival as we'd no place to keep him while at the show.
This was quickly agreed on and, on heading home, we stopped back at
Potomac for our new cat. We had no carrier, no cat box, no food and water
bowls but somehow, we'd wing it. "No problem," said the cat as he climbed up
into the cavernous vehicle. He promptly settled himself on the ice chest we
had between the front seats and there he rode in majestic mien, all the way to
Tennessee.
When we arrived home, we weren't real sure how Deuteronomy was going to
be received by our resident critters and, as a result, were a bit apprehensive.
There was no need. Dute, as he quickly became, followed on Bear's heels into
the back door,his tail high. The dogs looked at him, a bit non-plussed, but
weren't about to challenge his right to be there. The three cats, Peter, Skeeter
and Tinkerbelle also made no hostile move. Do cats communicate? You bet
your bag of catnip they do! No intelligible sound from any of them. Then or
ever. Deuteronomy came, he conquered and assumed his rightful place in the
household, perhaps in a variation of the old saw; "where does the 600-pound
gorilla sleep?"
The next day we took him to the vet who pronounced him in excellent health,
about seven years old, neutered and most certainly a Maine Coon. It was the
beginning of a beautiful friendship, a nudge in the direction of adding more
Maine Coons, a cattery...what can I say? He started it all. He lived with us a
good many years, suffered many changes of households as we moved
several times. It was already obvious he'd done some traveling. And we knew
his former household had had some kids in it. While living in Florida with a
chain link fence in the backyard, the cats were allowed outside. The Siamese
were quite content to stay in the yard. Not Dute. Every morning, he'd climb
the fence, cross the lightly-traveled lane and plop himself down among all the
school children waiting for the bus, taking all the pats and rubs and sweet talk
they'd lavish on him. Once they'd boarded and gone, he'd get up, come home,
climb back over the fence and take his ease under the big live oak.
I have often wished there was some way I could have let his former family
know that--however he got separated from them--he led a long and happy life
and was well loved. And inspired us to start a dynasty of our own.
weimaraner and a borzoi, and 3 cats, all Siamese. I had been juried into the
Waterfowl Festival in Easton, Maryland with my stained and etched glass and
we had loaded up the big Ford cargo van and were on our way from
Tennessee to the Eastern Shore. Along the way, we stopped to visit friends in
Potomac, Maryland who had a small 'farm' on some 20 acres outside of the
town. When we pulled into the circle in front of the house at the end of the
drive, we were greeted by the most humongous cat I had ever glimpsed. While
I'd never seen this breed before, I knew exactly what it was: a brown mackerel
Maine Coon. And what a cat he was! And unlike most cats upon first sighting,
he did not slink away nor simply stand his ground. He came up to us waving
his huge plumey tail and talking a mile a minute. "How are you? Welcome. Do
come in and make yourselves at home"....Both my husband, Bear, and I were
thoroughly captivated by this feline who behaved more like a dog than a cat.
At dinner that night, our host talked about this shaggy greeter they had
named Deuteronomy, after one of the characters in the stage show "Cats." It
seems that he had showed up at their door a couple of weeks previous and
quickly and quietly insinuated himself into their household. We both, Bear and
I, admitted our fascination with this big boy. Alas, Chuck said, they were going
to have to take him to the shelter as they already had a barn full of cats and
felt they were at max capacity. They had no idea where he'd come
from--purebred though he certainly was. They had placed an ad in the local
paper, posted notices but to no avail. Whoever he had belonged to--and he
was sleek and well cared for--was either no longer around or he was a
transient who'd gotten away from a passing vehicle. At any rate, though,
Chuck said, they simply couldn't keep him.
I told our host to put away his violin. No more exclamations of disowning the
big guy were necessary. We would take him home with us. BUT! It would have
to wait until after the festival as we'd no place to keep him while at the show.
This was quickly agreed on and, on heading home, we stopped back at
Potomac for our new cat. We had no carrier, no cat box, no food and water
bowls but somehow, we'd wing it. "No problem," said the cat as he climbed up
into the cavernous vehicle. He promptly settled himself on the ice chest we
had between the front seats and there he rode in majestic mien, all the way to
Tennessee.
When we arrived home, we weren't real sure how Deuteronomy was going to
be received by our resident critters and, as a result, were a bit apprehensive.
There was no need. Dute, as he quickly became, followed on Bear's heels into
the back door,his tail high. The dogs looked at him, a bit non-plussed, but
weren't about to challenge his right to be there. The three cats, Peter, Skeeter
and Tinkerbelle also made no hostile move. Do cats communicate? You bet
your bag of catnip they do! No intelligible sound from any of them. Then or
ever. Deuteronomy came, he conquered and assumed his rightful place in the
household, perhaps in a variation of the old saw; "where does the 600-pound
gorilla sleep?"
The next day we took him to the vet who pronounced him in excellent health,
about seven years old, neutered and most certainly a Maine Coon. It was the
beginning of a beautiful friendship, a nudge in the direction of adding more
Maine Coons, a cattery...what can I say? He started it all. He lived with us a
good many years, suffered many changes of households as we moved
several times. It was already obvious he'd done some traveling. And we knew
his former household had had some kids in it. While living in Florida with a
chain link fence in the backyard, the cats were allowed outside. The Siamese
were quite content to stay in the yard. Not Dute. Every morning, he'd climb
the fence, cross the lightly-traveled lane and plop himself down among all the
school children waiting for the bus, taking all the pats and rubs and sweet talk
they'd lavish on him. Once they'd boarded and gone, he'd get up, come home,
climb back over the fence and take his ease under the big live oak.
I have often wished there was some way I could have let his former family
know that--however he got separated from them--he led a long and happy life
and was well loved. And inspired us to start a dynasty of our own.
Deuteronomy Came First
Kendal, Cumbria rooftops
Castlerigg Standing Stones
Coniston Water
| A few scenes above from the settings for The MerryMaines Sing A Song Of Sixpence |
There I was, trying to be a good catmom a couple of
weeks ago. I had cut and hung some catnip in the car
port to dry for inserting into catnip bags for my
household. However, the leaves were not quite dry
enough. So I brought the stems inside, put them on a
tray and inserted them in the lowest setting in my oven
for about 5 minutes. While this was finishing the drying
task, I got down my old blender and bowls and
what-have-you. Suddenly, my grand old man, Freddie,
21 pounds of red Maine Coon muscle, started to howl. I
mean HOWL! As in Wiley Coyote distress. I was
suddenly scared. What had he done to himself? Then,
as if on cue, every cat in the house was bouncing off
the walls, ricocheting around the kitchen..Well, I guess
I'm just a slow learner. It finally dawned on me that the
aroma emanating from the oven was becoming very
potent and had activated that peculiar feline gene for
mayhem. Sheer bedlam! I quickly extracted the now
perfect catnip, ran it through the blender, took it to the
sewing room, sewed up some little bags and distributed
the largesse among my resident cats. I won't say they
were grateful but they sure were having a high old time,
if that's not putting too fine a point on it!
It never ceases to amaze me the various positions and
contortions cats can maneuver themselves into. And
such fun to watch!
weeks ago. I had cut and hung some catnip in the car
port to dry for inserting into catnip bags for my
household. However, the leaves were not quite dry
enough. So I brought the stems inside, put them on a
tray and inserted them in the lowest setting in my oven
for about 5 minutes. While this was finishing the drying
task, I got down my old blender and bowls and
what-have-you. Suddenly, my grand old man, Freddie,
21 pounds of red Maine Coon muscle, started to howl. I
mean HOWL! As in Wiley Coyote distress. I was
suddenly scared. What had he done to himself? Then,
as if on cue, every cat in the house was bouncing off
the walls, ricocheting around the kitchen..Well, I guess
I'm just a slow learner. It finally dawned on me that the
aroma emanating from the oven was becoming very
potent and had activated that peculiar feline gene for
mayhem. Sheer bedlam! I quickly extracted the now
perfect catnip, ran it through the blender, took it to the
sewing room, sewed up some little bags and distributed
the largesse among my resident cats. I won't say they
were grateful but they sure were having a high old time,
if that's not putting too fine a point on it!
It never ceases to amaze me the various positions and
contortions cats can maneuver themselves into. And
such fun to watch!
Shere Khan's country
All for now!
