Fala the cat
By Nancy Lynn Jarvis
I’m Fala. I was named by children who got me for Christmas and were over excited because of the season. They thought it would be fun to call me Falalala, la, la, la, like the carol. I was just a kitten and didn’t know better than to accept my fate. I did finally manage to escape from that family, however. It took me three years of clawing furniture and leaving mice in shoes before they understood how unhappy I was and allowed me to go live with new people. Human’s can be so obtuse.
People ask what type of cat I am. I’m black with green eyes, intelligent, and opinionated. I’m certain whatever type of cat I am is a superior strain. It’s good that I’m special because I live with a mystery writer, which can be quite a challenge.
I wouldn’t mind so much if she saw fit to include me in her books―her pretend couple does have two cats―but both are modeled on cats who were members of the household before I arrived. In the books, Harry was adopted by the protagonist, Regan McHenry, and her husband Tom after his person was murdered, and their other cat, Cinco, is modeled after my writer’s cat, Sophie.
I wish my person wouldn’t take her mystery writing so seriously. When she’s writing, she doesn’t even want to take a break to play string chase with me or watch me being cute.
I’ve tried to help my person when she writes; she’s just not terribly receptive to my suggestions. When I type on her keyboard, she gets quite agitated and shoos me away. Granted, I’m a terrible speller, but she doesn’t even attempt to understand what I’ve written. Some of my best work has been committed to the ether by her too-quick finger on the delete button. I’ve tried sitting on her lap and purring as she types, ready to add my comments with a blindingly fast keystroke, but she’s quick for a human and so far she has always caught me.
Even unappreciated as I am, I almost feel sorry for her sometimes. She can get into such a state, especially if her writing means Regan finds a body. I’ve seen my writer curled in a ball crying and shaking, she gets so upset. An independence expert like me could give her tips on how to not get so involved with her characters, but does she ask? Never.
My writer’s books do have cat-astrophes. Someone is always getting killed. Her character, Regan, is always trying to figure out what really happened even when the police think they know. Regan’s seat-of-the-pants amateur sleuthing makes her logical husband a little crazy and drives Regan’s policeman friend right up the walls even though he doesn’t have claws. And Regan’s not always as clever as she thinks she is. Even if she figures things out in the end, many times she gets herself in real messes before she does. I guess that’s to be expected, though, since Regan’s not a cat.
If you’re naturally curious like I am, you could go to my writer’s website, http://www.goodreadmysteries.com, and read the opening chapters of her books. If you have a Kindle, you could download a sample. Or you could take a nap, which is what I intend to do right now.
Author Bio: Nancy Lynn Jarvis was a Santa Cruz, California, Realtor® for more than twenty five years, but writing has proven to be too much fun and real estate is a full-time job so she officially retired and relinquished her license. Nancy’s work history reflects her philosophy: people should try something radically different every few years.
The book, “Mags and the AARP Gang,” represented a new direction in her writing adventure. After four Regan McHenry Real Estate Mysteries, Nancy put her characters, Regan, Tom, and Dave, on hiatus so she could let Mags and her gang, characters who had been forming in her mind for the past year, tell you their story; now she’s working on the fifth book in the series.