Karen Sandler

Category: Cats Horses and Other Pets

  • Rent-a-Cat

    I’m heading down to L.A. tomorrow to attend the international summer conference of SCBWI (Society of Children’s Book Writers & Illustrators). Although I’ve been to three regionals since I joined the organization last October, this is my first time attending the big SCBWI conference. I’m really looking forward to it.

    As a former member of Romance Writers of America, I’ve been to several of their big annual conferences, so I have some idea of what to expect. There will be too many workshops to choose from (although this time I have a spiffy app to help with that), over-air-conditioned rooms, rubber chicken lunches, and bleary-eyed mornings spent groping for coffee.

    Although I’ve pubbed plenty of romance novels, my book Tankborn, due out in September, is my very first young adult. I still feel green-as-grass, wet-behind-the-ears about the children’s market. So I plan to do the sponge thing at SCBWI LA and soak up as much wisdom as I can.

    To save on expenses, I’ve entered into an “arranged marriage” (sounds like one of my romance novels) to share a room with a fellow SCBWI member from Kentucky. I’ve done that in the past at RWA conferences and it’s both weird and fun to spend a few days with a total stranger. (Of course, there was that one conference where I roomed with three other women and ended up going home with someone else’s panties in my laundry. Eew.) I’m thinking I’m really going to enjoy my time with Meredith in L.A..

    The hotel looks like a nice one and it’s in Century City, a very vibrant part of L.A. But like any hotel, it has one drawback–no kitties. I’m used to having three of them snoozing in bed with me, snuggled up beside me or maybe draped across my head or curled up at my feet. But I will be catless for the three days of the conference.

    Here’s what I think all hotels should provide–a rent-a-cat. They should have a collection of some nice, mellow orange tabbies, or couch potato torties. Hotel guests could reserve their kitty when they reserve their room. There could be pictures posted on the hotel website with profiles of each cat. The cat of choice would be waiting for the guest in their room when they arrive, ready for belly rubs and scritches behind the ears, more than happy to curl up in a lap.

    Yeah, yeah, I can hear your objections. Some people are allergic to cats. Won’t that be traumatic for the cat? And what about that catbox?

    Minor issues all to be worked out. Just as some hotels provide smoking rooms, they can provide “cat rooms” for the non-allergic. Kitties would be chosen for their laid-back temperament and would enjoy the attention of one and all. The hotel guest can clean the cat box since they likely have plenty of practice at home.

    Yeah, not ever gonna happen. But I still think it’s a lovely idea. My toes kept toasty by a cat. The sound of purring in my ear as the hotel cat uses my pillow as his bed. And then there’s that familiar cat hair in my morning coffee.

    Just like home.

  • Horses & Barn Doors

    My mare is an escape artist. She let herself out of her stall today and went walkabout. I arrived for a ride to discover her stall gate wide open and the stall empty.

    Who me? Open my gate? I would never…

    Luckily, she stayed on the property. Why not? All her buds are there and there’s all that grass to munch.

    And she was a good girl when I went to catch her. She’s been known to woo-hoo all over the property evading capture. Since she was likely out for several hours, I guess she was ready to come in from the cold.

    Yes, I am beautiful.

    Of course, when you look at that face, it’s hard to stay mad. But next time, I’m double-locking that gate.

  • When the Neighborhood Thug is a Black Cat

    I am a dyed in the wool cat lover. I have three, two of which I’ve managed to persuade to be indoor-only and a third who’s an old guy and still set in his indoor-outdoor ways. Even still, he stays mostly close to home, too creaky to wander far. And he’s always in at night.

    But there’s a cat thug in the neighborhood. A miscreant. A hooligan. A hoodlum, a lout. My husband and I call him EBC–Evil Black Cat.

    He’s not a stray. He’s in good flesh, his coat looks good, his eyes are clear. I believe the neighbors own him. I went over there once to discuss the problems I was having with him and they promised to keep him in more often. But if this is the same black cat, that promise didn’t stick.

    So what has he done? He launched himself at my leg and bit me (thank God I was wearing jeans). He’s attacked the neighbor twice and scratched him.

    Back when my girl cat was allowed outside, he chased her and bit her twice, both times requiring a trip to the vet. Once when we had the slider open and the screen door shut, he went right through the screen, knocking it off its track to attack one of my other cats. He went running through the house (admittedly freaked out) before I could finally herd him out the door. I didn’t want to touch him out of fear he’d make mincemeat out of me.

    So no, I’m not a fan of the EBC. He’s a pretty scary guy. There are times I’m tempted to catch him in a humane trap and tote him off to animal control. But I know what would happen to him there, so I just put up with him and keep my cats in as best I can.

    So, any advice out there? What would you do?

  • Living with Critters

    I live in a semi-rural area, so close encounters of the wild animal kind are pretty common. There was the skunk hanging out under our back deck who got rousted by the neighbor’s dachshund. El stinko for several days in the yard and in the house. Then the deer in the front yard, looking like live lawn ornaments before they dashed off to safety. I’ve seen possum crossing our road late at night. Then there was the time a red-tailed hawk perched in one of our oak trees plucked its prey and sent a shower of feathers down on me.

    The most entertaining (and often annoying) characters sharing my neighborhood are the raccoons. They are bold, greedy and far bigger than you think they ought to be. They swagger across our property as if they own the place.

    We used to leave our cat door open all night and we’d end up with a ransacked garage–cat food bags and cereal boxes ripped open. One of them discovered the cat door that led from the garage to the house. It scarfed all the cat food in the downstairs bathroom and left muddy raccoon footprints all over the floor. When we switched to a door that was supposed to open only to my cats wearing their magnet collars, the raccoons figured out how to foil the lock. No more cat door.

    One of my three cats still spends his days outdoors, so started leaving dry food out for him when I was away. I figured out pretty quick that although it was safe enough during daylight hours, the moment it got dark it was fair game for the raccoons. They’d wipe it out and avail themselves of the water bowl for their toilette. I learned my lesson–no more leaving that fancy, very expensive dry food out. I didn’t need to feed the neighborhood.

    Then last night, I noticed Zak (the kitty who appears in my masthead) staring out the sliding glass door into the backyard. He has a skinny little striped tail and it was puffed up as big as a raccoon’s. I looked outside and there was a bandit, complete with mask, peering in at me. I could swear the nervy little bugger was saying to me, “Hey, lady, where’s the buffet?”

    The critter ran off when I got closer to the door, but he kept coming back to stare at me. Maybe he was willing me to put another bowl of crunchies outside. I guess hope springs eternal.