1) So, your human writes books. Does this mean he or she is home all day and easy to access? Elaborate if necessary.
No, and thank the gods for that! That’d make it that much harder for me to pull rank on my brother, Pye, or to guilt her out for leaving us alone. No, we have an understanding. Every day she does hard labor for 9-10 hours to earn my keep. I’d say that’s a fair arrangement.
2) How large a proportion of her income do you have her devote to your gourmet tuna, cat beds, toys and other basic necessities?
I’ll give the human credit—she does okay by me. We recently got a new laser-pointer toy. I didn’t get tired of that for ohhh, two days or so.
3) What are your techniques for distracting your human during crucial writing moments, just because it’s fun?
We work a tag team. Pye does wiring. Step on the surge protector at just the right time, or play with the pretty colored lines in the back. Me? My specialty is hairballs. If you can wretch on something important—new shoes, leather purse, or the handwritten copy she’s transcribing from—mission accomplished.
4) What indignities and neglect have you suffered because of your human’s writing career?
She has this silly master she calls “inspiration”. The human has actually stopped in the middle of preparing one of my meals to dash into another room and write! Delay feeding me? Wtf?
5) Tell me about the felines in your human’s fiction. How often do they appear and how big a part do they play?
They were a huge part of most of her earlier stories. But then this thing called “sex” seemed to move in and take over. Phfft. And she wonders why she doesn’t sell more…
6) What works of fiction or cinema involving cats does your human enjoy sharing with you?
We have our own videotape, full of scurrying birds and chipmunks and squirrels. Occasionally we humor her and watch it. It seems to keep her calm.
7) If you could make one change to your human, what would it be?
She has this thing about screaming and running away when I bring her the gift of mouse. What’s that about? I even tried keeping it alive, thinking the freshness would please her even more. You wouldn’t think a chubby little human could move so fast. Go figure.
Are you happy with your human? If you could tell your human one thing, what would it be?
Listen. I’ve been ‘round the block a time or two. I was returned to the shelter three times, accused of being “anti-social”, before this one took me on. Humans are not my favorite people, but this one does ok by me.
What one thing would I tell her? We need a new sofa. This one’s all shredded.
What things does your human do that would mortify it if known? What does your human do that most annoys?
She doesn’t mortify easily! I’ve trained her well. Most annoying habit? She actually wants me to move over when she gets in the bed. Can you imagine?
Did your human name a character for you? Are you pleased? If not, why?
Yes, she did. It was an attack cat who stalked all male visitors to her heroine’s home. It was kinda cool. I deserve fame and fortune.
And did your human name you for a fictional character? Hate it or love it?
Here’s the inside story on that. My human named me for a psychopathic killer. Swear to the gods. At the tender age of six months, I was named after James Cagney’s gangsta character Cody Jarrett from the film “White Heat”. Seriously. Look into my eyes. Is that the face of a psycho? Just because I lose it now and then when I get one of my headaches, and because I tried to rip her face off when we first met. Perfectly normal response. She’d interrupted my lunch.
How do you give your writer new ideas?
I don’t give her new ideas. I give her a reason to keep coming UP with new ideas. Supporting me.
Come back tomorrow to learn about the human who supports Cody and Pye!