I’m not sure what the big deal is about the cat in Mum’s cozy mysteries. I mean, she’s just a plain old black cat. Big deal. She may be sleek and pretty, but she can’t possibly be as stunning as I am. After all, I’m a calico, and that’s about the most special kind of cat there is. Just because Christie can talk to her pet parent in the books doesn’t mean she’s any smarter than I am. I talk to Mum all the time. Is it my fault she can’t understand me?
The truth is Christie’s personality is patterned after mine. That’s right, she’s the make-believe version of me. Mum says I’m her muse when it comes to writing Christie’s dialogue and behavior. Goodness’ knows how Mum would know what to write if it weren’t for me. So, let’s talk about all the things I do that turn up in the Dickens & Christies cozy mystery series.
First, like me, Christie has her very own desk drawer to curl up in. Mine has a purple towel tucked in the bottom of it. The only problem is that lately, Mum’s been sticking other stuff in there too—small candles and boxes of notecards. I’m pretty talented at curling into a small ball, but soon there’ll be no room for me. Based on how feisty Christie is, I can’t see her putting up with a similar encroachment on her territory.
I’m also darned particular about how my food is served, as is Christie. I require that small dabs of wet food be placed in my dish. I take a few licks and sit back until Mum takes the fork and “fluffs” my food, as I call it. The food must be centered and fluffed before I’ll deign to touch it again. If fluffing is not done to my satisfaction, I leave the food behind for Banjo. Christie leaves it for Dickens, her canine companion. Those boys love our food.
Then there are the treats. Mum keeps mine in a container in the office, and there’s a small dish on the desk where she can dole them out for me. My dish has a black and white cat painted it. I haven’t heard of Christie having anything that special, though her treats are also dispensed in an office. Leaping on Mum’s desk and demanding my treats is a feat I perform several times a day. I meow at Mum until she gets the message and pours some in my dish.
What happens if she doesn’t get the message? Why I get more demanding. I’ve even taken to reaching out my pretty white paw to pat Mum’s cheek until she does her job. Imagine her thinking that tapping on her keyboard or writing in her notebook is more important than feeding me. Pffft.
Like Christie, I’m also rather adept at cleaning Mum’s desk with the swipe of a paw. Not only do I clear it of pens, pencils, and paper clips, I once even knocked Alexa off—I got quite a scolding for that. Haven’t heard of Christie going that far. The other thing we two felines have in common is our sleep pattern. We both curl up in our Mums’ laps and sleep on their beds at night, and sleeping on dog beds is way better than sleeping on our own.
Don’t tell my Mum, but I think it’s kind of cool to be the inspiration for a fictional cat. There’s only one major difference between me and Christie, and that’s her special backpack. Her Mum goes on walks and Christie rides in her backpack. I’m not at all sure I want to ride in a backpack, so I’ll leave that to my made-up counterpart. And now, I need a treat or two or three, and Christie probably does too.