Today we are going to have a quick look at what we thought was a little gem of cat stories. 🙂
We are talking about “Dear Lucky – Letters to our cat” by David Williamson.
The book is about the story of a very lucky rescued kitten–his luck in being rescued on a night his owners normally would not have been home; their luck in finding a wonderful cat who brought much joy into their life. “Dear Lucky” contains twelve stories about Lucky, with 54 color photographs of Lucky in action and at rest.
The book tells the stories of their cat, how they found him and the joy he brought to their life!
I started reading the first chapter when I first received my review copy and got to say that I couldn’t put it down until I was done. The way that David has written the story makes you feel that you are there as the stories unfold and the natural pictures are perfectly blended into the book to bring the story really to life 🙂
I especially liked that the photos are natural shots of their cat (taken by Brenda Perrott Williamson)
It’s kind like they are not your usual edited photos but how YOU would expect to take pictures of your OWN cat! 😀 So it adds to the special flare of the book 🙂
The book can be purchased in various countries via the following links:
UK: Also on Amazon by clicking here.
Germany: Also on Amazon by clicking here.
You can also find it on Amazon in other countries so have a look if your country is not listed above!
For those of you that would like to sample this book yourself before reading it the author has kindly given us permission to put up the first chapter of his book:
(Please note the layout of the below sample has been edited to fit the Blog format)
YOUR ARRIVAL: HOW YOU
CAME TO LIVE WITH US
That Tuesday evening all those years ago when you came into our life seems like yesterday. Brenda and I were just about to make our usual Tuesday evening trip to the library when we saw some children where they should not have been, walking along the creek in the woods behind our house.
They weren’t causing any trouble but they looked like they were carrying something and we wanted to see what they were up to in case they decided to get into childish mischief while we were gone.
Image 1: That mailbox was dark and scary!
So, instead of getting into our car and leaving, we waited and watched them come out of the creek onto our street. Sure enough, they were up to something and when they saw us looking at them, one of the boys opened the neighbor’s mailbox diagonally across the street from our house.
Ever suspicious of the neighborhood kids, I walked over to the boy who had opened the neighbor’s mailbox and asked him what he was doing. His “Uh Nothin” answer was, of course, classic little boy. But, when I heard a desperate little meow coming from the mailbox, he opened it up and there you were, tiny and scruffy and undernourished, with a badly bent tail, but meowing for all you were worth to be let out of that dark and scary mailbox.
Plucking you gently out of the mailbox, I handed you over to Brenda; and you, with your oversized paws and very long claws, clung to her sweater for dear life while I questioned the children about why they were treating you this way.
Your mother and father were stray cats who lived in the woods across the road northeast of our house and we think you may have been conceived on our front porch given the howling cats we had heard there earlier in the year. But the first few weeks of life with your poor mother meant near starvation and explained to us why you seemed to like to eat maple seeds so much, even though we eventually got you some good kitten food.
Image 2: I wonder what she
would do if I bit her thumb?
Anyway, these children had apparently found you in those woods and brought you to their home in the nearby apartment complex. They said their mother had told them to take you away and sell you or their uncle was going to drown you. We explained to them how cruel that was and the little boy said they didn’t want you to be drowned and he didn’t think putting you in the mailbox would hurt you. He said he thought that the people who lived there would come home and find you and take you in before that and he wouldn’t have to take you back home to his angry mother and uncle. We told him we understood but that you would have suffocated before the neighbors looked in their mailbox the next day; then we took you to our home.
Image 3: I like it here! I think I’ll stay!
We don’t know how old you were when the children took you from the woods, but you were about two monthsold when they put you in the mailbox bruised and hungry. The little boy who put you there was probably the one who broke your little tail. He had been badly abused too but when he put you in the mailbox, he was just trying to do what he thought was the right thing. Nevertheless, that is why you never liked children, or anyone except us for that matter, and why you would hide whenever they came around hoping to see you.
At home, you only let go of Brenda’s sweater when we were safely inside and away from the children and after I made some instant dry milk for you. That is all we had, not very good for a little kitty, but you lapped it up and said: “Thanks, I like it here; I think I’ll stay.”
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