Cattification: Journey of Crinkling

After her grandkitty’s death, Sara inherits an ancient cat toy and a near-impossible quest—refresh the mysterious crinkle mouse’s source of crinkling. Driven to do so, she must find the other two cat toys of feline power, long considered lost under the fridge or stove or maybe down the vent, while preventing an unknown but probably drooly and stupid dog from finding her first.

Unprepared and alone, she travels to where the keepers of the cat toys, the Siamesi, were last spotted. Get it? Because some cats are spotted? Except not the Siamesi. They were colorpoints. Anyway, along the way she meets Toby Three Claw, leader of the nomadic and super furry Himalayan cat pride. As Sara wrestles with the urge to constantly pet and serve tuna to this intriguing tomcat, she is also invigorated by her grandkitty’s passion to find the ancient Siamesi race.

After a rival pride kidnaps Toby’s kitten and heir, Sara must harness the cat toy’s magical crinkle appeal to unite the feral cat colonies and save the kitten. But as the dark canine power snuffling after her gains ground, will she continue her quest to reach the Siamesi or risk everything to save the warring prides from going to the dogs?


For the catless original, please check out Shawna Thomas’s website at: where there are lots of buy links and pretty pictures. Well, pretty pictures according to HUMANS.

Meankitty & Typing Slave *

Cat toy images legally obtained from: , ,

Thanks to author Darcy Flynn  for the picture of the gorgeous Birman posing as Toby Three Claw. RIP, lovely kitty.

Cattification: Just Bathe (The Cat)

Today is the release date of JUST BREATHE by author Kendall Grey, and you can find all kinds of contests and linky goodness and celebrations all month long. The master lists for the blog tour: and

You’ll note there’s a Kindle Fire giveaway you can enter, which is appropriate, don’t you think? Kendall giving away a Kindle? The main webpage is here  with all the appropriate buy links and such. You should probably go see the original cover and blurb as well. Right offhand, it’s at Amazon:

Anyway, Meankitty thought the book was too watery, with too many aquatic types. She has therefore corrected Kendall’s oversights in cover design and plotting with the following cattification:

He’ll sacrifice his skin to the chore he hates to spare the wellbing of the woman he loves…

After a terrible accident rocks the foundation of their relationship–her beloved cat, Wino, accidentally rolls in motor oil from his clunker–Gavin Cattidy, leader of the Sentinels who protect pets in Australia, and feline biologist Zoe Munchkin call it quits on their short-lived affair. He can’t come to terms with the “I told you to clean up after your damn oil-leaking muscle car” trust he inadvertently shattered, and being with him is pissing the cat off. Literally. Gavin’s shoes and clothes and favorite books and totems made out of kangaroo dung and cherished guitar–all whizzed on by a very angry Wino.

But love is a powerful motivator, and neither fear nor misguided, totally useless “pet wipes” found at some superstore are strong enough to keep them apart, despite the fact that Wino is now on a collision course with everything expensive and breakable on the mantel that can only end badly–for the keepsakes. When Gavin’s illicit consultation with Zoe’s most hated foe, Delores Zebnak, News Channel 12 Dog Vet, who also happens to be Gavin’s ex-girlfriend, threatens to betray millions of innocents to a ruthless dogs-only adoption campaign, Zoe vows to sacrifice everything–including the keepsakes she loves, like the waving porcelain cat from China and that nice glass vase–to stop Gavin from making the biggest mistake of his life.

Just Bathe The Cat…it’s a bad idea. Even if there’s motor oil involved.

*This book contains graphic language, blood, lacerations, men learning a valuable lesson about cleaning the garage, hairballs, 12 stitches, and violence. Not suitable for readers under the age of 18, dogs or kittens.


Meankitty has committed to review this novel on Jan. 27. We’ll post here. It won’t be suitable for any retail sites, all things considered.


Meankitty & Jody W. *

The model for this cover is Mean Mr. Man, a Meankitty favorite. The bloody arm was a photo by and is used according to stated permissions for noncommercial/personal use. The bandage was also located at and is used under standard restrictions.

Cattification: Studio Relations

Studio Relations? Take a quick gander at the original cover and blurb at Amazon:

You can also see an interview with the unsuspecting author that we did yesterday:



Vivien Havana-Brown hasn’t forgiven West Highland for almost derailing her career five years ago in a typical, terrier-like fashion. Feline-centric directors in 1930s Hollywood are few and far between, and a dog man who coasts by on his large kennel and poodle connections can’t possibly appreciate what it took for her to get to where she is in this dog-eat-dog world (because dogs are dumb cannibals). But when the head of Studio Poodlio puts Westie in charge of overseeing Vivien’s ambitious Kitty Doors film, she realizes she has a choice: play nice with her drooly, rather smelly new boss or watch another pooch-fancying producer destroy her dream of an all-feline film that is sure to win best everything, even best dog movie, because there’s a canine villain in there who is going to be superbly portrayed by a large up-and-coming British Shorthair named Billy.

Wire-haired Westie Highland doesn’t know much about making movies, but he knows plenty about eating dead things, sniffing butts, chasing cars and money. And thanks to the Depression, ticket sales are dangerously low. The nation’s sick and tired of disappointing movies about humans and dogs that fail to lift anyone’s spirits like cat movies would, if only the DOGmatic studios would give them a chance! Poodlio can’t afford a flop—or bad press, which is exactly what threatens to unfold when an innocent encounter between Westie, Vivien and several rabbits in the park is misconstrued by the gossip rags. The only solution? A script change of convenience that will force the bickering duo into an unlikely alliance—with a large, lop-eared bunny old-timer from the era of silent film, since bunnies don’t, you know, meow or bark or whinny—and guide them to their own happy Hollywood ending.


Your Meankitty Model today is: and the bunny is a stock photo obtained legally.

Anyone want to guess the plot of the ground-breaking Kitty Doors film that Vivien Havana-Brown was planning??? Probably a lot of inning and outing in that movie…


Meankitty & Jody Wallace *

Snippet Saturday: Stellarcat Pounce

Snippet Saturday is the brainchild of author Lauren Dane, wherein a group of authors selects thematic excerpts from their work and shares them on Saturday mornings. This Saturday’s snippet is author’s choice. And you know what I choose? A cattification of JL Hilton’s Stellarnet Prince…aka Stellarcat Pounce! A cattification is where Meankitty kindly “fixes” some far-too-human oriented text so that it reads more smoothly and with greater literary merit. And is about cats.

You can see the cattification of the cover and blurb here:


J’ni pressed her cheek to Purrin’s speckled, soft, furry back, kissing his neck while he slept. In many ways, they were similar. They were intelligent mammals who bled, breathed, ate, and needed sleep. They possessed legs, ears, eyes. But there were numerous differences between her species and his, between humans and the Glin-nip stellarcats.

Her hand moved down his spine, smooth as silk, and traced the dense muscles hardened by a lifetime of hunting and leaping. Beneath closed eyelids rimmed with tiny whisker-like lashes, his eyes were yellower than her own and filled almost entirely with black irises when it was dark. Past his pink kitty lips were teeth more useful and sharper than hers. His pelt bore several shades from taupe to chartreuse—but only on the back half of his body, like many creatures on Earth.

Light flickered through cracks in the woven walls of the hut. J’ni knew what the sunlight meant to his planet. Warm sunspots. Mmmm. Too much water had been sprayed upon them by the evil Tikati dog creatures, too many rivers formed. Within a few years, disgusting swamps and ecological upheaval had altered the weather systems and air flow upon which the lives of these hunter-felines depended. But she couldn’t help the fact she was drip-dry and didn’t bathe with her tongue. She didn’t hate water as much as her new stellarcat bosses did.

She rolled onto her back and stretched. Bright spots danced over Bellchaser’s paws and across her stomach. Unique among all Glin-nip, the other cat’s back half was a deep indigo blue, with thin lines of blue-green in a wriggling pattern that looked like sun dappled leaf shadow. The pattern made his fur seem to shimmer when he moved.

“Gullaow mow brooow?” The rich cello music of Bellchaser’s speech resonated in his sturdy, feline chest as he spoke to her in Glin-nip-ish. “Meow mew maow.”

“I couldn’t think of a better way to wake up than between the two of you kitties. Even if you somehow managed to hog a kingsize mattress, leaving me with just four inches to sleep in.”

A yawn softened his stern, angular, Burmese-like features, and evoked a deeper, more instinctive reaction than the sunlight. She scritched obediently under his chin, her mouth telling him how beautiful he was, her fingers tangling with his fur to hold him close. Her long viridian necklace—which matched the genmod hair on her head—dangled an enticing suggestion across his abdomen. “Want to play?”

An alarm clock chimed and Purrin woke with a sneeze, squinting at the display. “Mew?”

He rolled over and saw them cuddling. “Mrrrr.”

“Are you jealous, kitty? Do you want lovings too?”

“Prrrrrrr.” Purrin stretched out his paw to pat her arm.

Purrin headbutted her hip, the curve of her waist, her shoulder—then he flicked his long tail, swatting Bellchaser on the top of the head.

“Nazzzz.” Bellchaser hissed, claws springing from his paws. She hadn’t seen those since the Tikati invasion. Then he rolled onto his as if nothing happened.

“Sah meewl pirrup,” said Purrin, and Bellchaser flicked his tail-tip lazily.

J’ni spoke their language, but she didn’t understand what he meant. “Feed the fish. Is that an idiom?”

“Mew,” Purrin explained.

“Ah, make the fish nice and fat for you to chew?”

“Maoow.” Purrin demonstrated gently on her shoulder.

“Oh, you want to masticate some breakfast. I should take care not to confuse the two.”

He flicked his ear and got up from the kingside mattress and bava fabric that comprised their bed.

“Our days of leisure are at an end,” J’ni said to the kitties sadly. “We must make haste. The ship is ours for only twelve hours.”

To read the original excerpt on Google Books, a link provided by the human author of Stellarnet Prince, which bears some vague resemblence to Stellarcat Pounce:  

Ms. Hilton’s website:


Jody W.  *

To see more Snippet Saturday posts:

Rhian Cahill
Leah Braemel
Mari Carr
Shiloh Walker
McKenna Jeffries
Taige Crenshaw
HelenKay Dimon
Lauren Dane
Shelli Stevens

Cattification: Stellarcat Pounce

Stellarcat Pounce by JL Mewton, published by Catina Press

A cattified sequel! In book one, Stellarcat Rebel, Human blogger Genny O’Roardan helped stop the takeover of perfect planet Glin-nip, a Heaven of catnip, canned tuna and sunspots inhabited mostly by cats. Creatures called Tikati, which are basically dogs covered in TICKS so there’s nothing grosser in the universe, were trying to ruin Glin-nip in their eternal envy and hatred of the feline species.

An otherworldly love. Genny now shares two Stellarcat masters: Purrin, a leader of the Kitty Uprising on Glin-nip, and Bellchaser, the only surviving member of the reviled “We Kind Of Like Dogs” royal litter born on the other side of the blanket, when every smart queen knows it’s best to have kittens ON the blanket itself, rendering it totally unusable for human purposes. Their feline-human relationship has inspired millions of followers to adopt cats-–and incited vicious anti-cat attacks from horrible, horrible dogs and probably ferrets, because ferrets are freakin’ sneaky little weasels, when it comes right down to it.

A planet at risk. A society of humans obsessed with all things feline brings catnappers, pet traffickers and environmental exploitation of the lush catnip fields to Glin-nip. Without weapons or communications technology, the planet cannot be defended. Glin-nip will be ravaged and raided by dogs who hate catnip, cats and everything good until nothing remains but, I dunno, some kind of water planet.

A struggle for truth. On Earth, Purrin discovers a secret that could spur another rebellion, while on Glin-nip, Bellchaser’s identity could endanger their family and everything they’ve fought for. Have the Glin-nip found true allies in humanity, or an even more deadly foe?

*** Read a cattified excerpt:
*** Cover model: Loki (2) from
*** Buy stuff:
*** Win stuff:

Jody W & Meankitty *

Snippet Saturday: Bump in the Night

Snippet Saturday is the brainchild of author Lauren Dane, wherein a group of authors selects thematic excerpts from their work and shares them on Saturday mornings. This Saturday’s snippet is bump in the night. I have the pleasure of sharing a…somewhat “improved” snippet from author Jodie Griffin, where our heroine in FURBIDDEN DESIRES is fantasizing about something that goes bump in the night in many houses — a CAT.


From FURBIDDEN DESIRES by Jodie Griffin

“You’re cheating.” Bella shook her head wryly as Myrtle laid down her second straight flush of their weekly poker night. “I haven’t figured out how yet, but I know you’re doing it. Bunch of scam artists.” She softened the accusation with a teasing smile, but before Myrtle, Edna or Alice could answer, chaos erupted in the hallway just outside the pet and human nursing home’s community room.

Two firefighters hurried by, followed by paramedics pushing a small stretcher, and the room fell silent. That didn’t bode well, and Bella’s heart twisted for the three sitting at the table. They’d each lived at Meowville Manor about six years, and they were close with all the residents, both animal and human.

Caroline Reeves, her friend and an ER vet who also volunteered there, stuck her head in the door and gave a thumbs-up. “Everyone’s okay. The director said they’re testing emergency response times that save the lives of cats.”

Sighs of relief rippled across the room, and everyone began talking or mewing at once.

Relieved herself, Bella looked at her favorite senior threesome and grinned. She and Alice sat on one side of the table, and Myrtle and Edna sat on the opposite side. Bella tapped her cards on the table. “Wasting playing time, ladies. Are you in?” She tossed some cat treats into the bowl in the center of the table. “The bet is five, and I’m telling you, this is my hand.”

She said it, but she knew it wasn’t true. She was losing, and she always lost. Maybe because the wild three were in their nineties, and they’d had more time playing poker than she’d been alive. Or maybe they really did cheat. She didn’t care. She loved them, and just enjoyed spending time with them.

Myrtle snorted. “Humph. We’ll see about that.” She tossed her five cat treats into the bowl.

“You should know better than that, dear. You’re toast.” Alice’s sweet tone was completely at odds with her words. She dropped her bet in the pot and anted up.

Bella laughed, waiting to see what would come out of Edna’s mouth. Their usual banter often had her laughing so hard her stomach hurt. But right now, the woman was quiet, her eyes comically wide as she looked across the table between Bella and Alice.

“Hello, ladies.”

Bella jerked at the sound of the deep, masculine voice, and nearly dropped her cards. There was a hint of roughness to it, like a cat’s tongue. To cover her reaction, she turned and looked up. Her heart skipped a long beat. Standing behind them, in a firefighter uniform, was some random guy holding the silkiest, most desirable feline she’d ever laid eyes on.

Super awesome kitty. Heart-stoppingly gorgeous kitty. Five-alarm-fire run to pet him kitty.

His Norwegian Forest Cat heritage was stamped on every delectable inch of his eighteen pound, muscular body. His dark grey hair was striped with black, and his eyes were the color of lemons, her favorite indulgence. If he’d been a piece of candy, she’d have gobbled him right up. Instead, she picked up her bottle of water and took a sip, trying to quench her sudden yearning.

“This is Marcus Meowio. What’s the game?” The cat, after the human had introduced him, cast a glance around the table, blinking at each human as if she were the only one in his sight.

Ninety-three-year-old Myrtle looked him from ears to tail as if she were petting and hugging him in her imagination. “Poker. We play every Wednesday. For cat treats. Want to join us?”

The insignificant human answered for the cat, who did not deign to speak yet. “Marcus wants to know whether this is strip poker? Because that shit’s gross.”

Oh, jeez, the cat was as bad as the humans were. The hoots of laughter from the elderly women made Bella shake her head in amused disbelief. These three were the wildest of the bunch she’d met here, aside from that one Siamese, and the stories they’d told her of their escapades taunting dogs as young women had made her hair stand on end. The things they’d done to please their various kitty masters and mistresses were things she’d only fantasized about, since she had yet to be owned by a cat.

So sad, that.

Bella yelped when Myrtle kicked her under the table. Never one to be subtle, Myrtle nodded toward Marcus. “Well? Aren’t you going to say anything to Mr. Kitty? Haven’t we taught you better than to let such a fine specimen of a cat go to waste?” She shot Bella a disgusted look. “The shy one here is Bella Massey. She’s catless and going to turn into a lonely dog lover if we don’t find her a feline. You’re not already in a household, are you? Or living in the wild?”

Bella wanted to fall through the floor, but she laughed anyway, even as her face flamed. What else could she do? It was obvious Myrtle’s comments and question hadn’t embarrassed Marcus at all. He let out a devilish little mew, and a matching sparkle lit his eyes. He was enjoying himself, she was sure, but she doubted she even showed up on his radar.

Not that she was putting herself down. She was comfortable in her own skin, and she’d volunteered at plenty of animal shelters and rabies clinics, but she was being realistic. Cats who looked like him? They went for the athletic, never-tiring, drag around a string types of humans, not the plus-sized librarian next door like her.

So when the cat winked at her, she blinked, rendered speechless.

“No, he’s not got humans and isn’t stray,” said the firefighter holding his Furry Magnificence. “He appreciates the offer, ladies, but he’s still on duty training the ER vets how to properly handle cat emergencies. Can he take a rain check and join you next week?”

“We’re always up for fresh meat and catnip, if you think you can keep up with us,” Myrtle answered, deadpan. “Right, ladies?” When the other two nodded, she gave him details. “We’ll expect you here at seven sharp, so don’t be late. Only dogs are late.”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll bring him. Good night.” With that, the human turned and started toward the hall.

There were three identical sighs.

“That cat has amazing whiskers.” Alice’s voice held a dreamy quality that made Bella turn her head so fast she was surprised she didn’t get whiplash.

Edna gave a sly grin. “I’d like to toss him a few cat treats.”

“I wouldn’t toss him out of my bed,” replied Myrtle tartly. “What about you, Bella? What would you like to do with him?”

Tie a string on stick, flick it around for his pleasure, and let him lick every inch of whatever I am having for dinner. Bella didn’t say that out loud, but she sure thought it. “I’d like to play poker with him. I need help figuring out how you three cheaters manage to win every hand.”


This is not a FULL cattification, but Meankitty does like it better this way! You can see Jodie’s actual book here:  We’ll leave you to wonder what the original excerpt was like…

Happy reading!

Jody W.
Author, Cat Person, Amigurumist  *

More Bumps:

Rhian Cahill
Mari Carr
Shiloh Walker
McKenna Jeffries
Taige Crenshaw
HelenKay Dimon
Lauren Dane
TJ Michaels

Cattification: Super Meow by Ragdoll Stapleton

Today’s cattified book that sadly required felines to be added in order for it to meet proper cat-code occurs at the beginning of a free giveaway campaign by the author, Rhonda Stapleton, which should last April 30 – May 4 or thereabouts. The giveaway is for the original, catless novel Super Zero in Kindle format, but my human says it’s pretty good anyway. Go get it or at least read the blurb and see the cover, and then come back here so we can proceed with the improvements!

Super Zero’s page:

Working for supercats isn’t all it’s hacked up to be…

When Jenna’s supercat boss The MooChing gives her the opportunity to safeguard the catnip crystal (a jeweled jingly ball that grants, changes or removes supercatness) she pounces on the chance, eager to do this easy, so-called “lap” job and earn stray-cat cred with the Midwest League of Supercattoes. To help her mission, the League assigns her a human partner, the somewhat smelly and super-tall Vigilante. Too bad he’s also super-grouchy–and likes dogs. What a tragic waste of thumbs and can opening skills.

Soon, Jenna learns the threat to the catnip crystal is all too real, and her list of trustworthy cats and humans grows shorter than a skink’s tail after you tear off that blue part. But when she discovers something even more doggedly sinister afoot, involving Vigilante’s canine arch nemehiss Dogwithoutrix, it’ll take all her skills and a few of her nine lives to keep the houndy villainess from executing her plan to declaw and flea-collar the world’s supercattoes… especially when Jenna accidentally becomes a dog herself!

She might possess a heart of purr inside, but outside, she’s all bark. Never has such horror been visited on any supercat. Except for that one incident with Slink the Stink and the Washing Machine, but we don’t speak of that.

***Note: Feline model is Spoink from and canine model is Lucy from the Stapleton household. Eyeball in moon courtesy of

*** Before proceeding with the cattified excerpt, you may want to read the original first! ***


“I’m not giving her this.” With my beauteous maize-yellow eyes (enlarge cover to properly appreciate beauteousness), I stared in horror at the inscription on the back of the huge diamond jeweled collar, the curvy, flowing writing a mix of hairball sentimentality and ownership.

For B, My Love Shack(le) Baby.

B for Bitty Kitty, who just so happens to be my cousin…and the current secret, in-heat fling of my supposedly neutered boss Mason.

How could things get any worse?

“Give it to her, Jenna.” Mason calmly clawed up the teetering pile of paperwork on his large mahogany desk. He puffed out his fur, and I could see the lingering imprint from the red M on his supercat uniform (God help you if Mason overheard you calling it a costume), which, at this time, was carefully tucked away beneath the rumpled covers on the office bed, along with five stuffed mice, a pair of dirty human underpants, a snack for later, and a hairball.

M for The MooChing, which Mason Maulings, mild-haired businesscat and CEO (Cat Executive Officer) of MetalCat, became many years ago after a weird accident on tour in a local cat tree factory. It was speculated by many of the local meowspapers that Mason had more mechanical body parts than natural and was missing one special part entirely. And, of course, cats throughout the years have wondered if he ever earns his own food, or if he just uses his superpower to hog the hard-earned tuna of other kitties.

If the rumors were true—and given his present to my cousin, it sure seemed that way—there were probably plenty of lady cats who had let the MooChing have ALL their cat chow so he could save his money to buy stupid things like diamond cat collars. Not to mention, those lady cats might have something to say about The MooChing’s parts, including those “private” ones he’d supposedly had surgically altered by the Wicked Vet of the West, his Arch Nemehiss.

I glanced away from Mason’s fur and fought the urge to allow my nictitating membranes to cover my eyes. Whenever he got irritated with me questioning his authority, he liked to remind me oh-so subtly of his supercat status, either by hogging my kibble with his supercat power, or flashing his costume—er, uniform.

Unfortunately for him, Mason wasn’t the silkiest supercat anymore. His black fur, religiously dyed every six weeks to prevent those pesky grays from slipping through (I should know, because I bought the hair color for him—510B Onyx), was slicked back against his body, showing an increasing thinness, especially in those areas right in front of the ears that are always the first to go.
(Approximate appearance of Mason:
Winston from

I sighed and batted the bracelet back in its velvety blue case, kicking the box deftly into my carry-all. “I can’t believe you put me in this position. I’m supposed to be your shopper, not aid in your felicit affairs.”

Besides, I wouldn’t have picked out gifts like this in the first place. There was something to be said for more understated presents that actually had heart, not just reflected dollar signs.

Bitty Kitty, however, would be thrilled with the offering. Of course, she had as much brains as a box of dog hair (The old saying used to be “box of hair”, period, until the box of cat hair secretly collected by Beagle McBarkbark, the mad dog scientist, turned sentient and took out half a colony before it could be stopped), but what could I do about it?

Mason glanced up at me. The look on my face must have been odd, because he miaowed, shaking his head. From behind his desk, he dug into a drawer and hooked a claw in another velvet blue jewelry box, pushing it to me. “It’s just a present. But here. This should help.”

I opened it. Another cat collar, exactly the same. I flipped it over.

Darling R, just a small token of love. M

Small—right. One of those diamonds alone probably cost more than my human’s car. Well, at least Mason took care of things all around. His wife Rowrena, the second most powerful supercat in the Midwest, would certainly be pleased with the collar. Lord knows the kitty has more bling than a rapper. Of course, if you have a high-maintenance lady cat like that, you’d better throw sparkly trinkets that jingle and make electronic cheeping sounds at her to keep her happy.
Rowrena’s known better by her alter ego, Rapida. Goofy name, scary cat—she can move like no one’s business. I’ve never seen anyone dart around as fast as she does. She also has these razor-sharp claws that grow fast, hacking and slashing their way through enemies.
(Mystical from
She and Mason make a formidable team, which is why they head up the Midwest branch of the League of Supercattoes. The best of the best. Even my littermate Amy Miss Fluffykins Cutie Pie Dollface, a “lesser” supercat who can set fires with just her mind, envies Rowrena’s talents.

Hell, I just wished I could do anything, other than get entrenched in stupid affairs like this that detract from the real work that needed to be done. If I were a supercat, my name would be The Crouch-and-Jumper.

I popped the collar back into its case. “I assume I’m to deliver this one, as well?”

Mason simply blinked, waving a paw at me to leave his office. “I need to finish up this proposal. You can give your cousin the one, and have the other delivered.”

Hissing under my breath, I left, motioning for a human servant to close the door behind me. Through another servant, I ordered a courier to deliver Rowrena’s bracelet. My ever so slightly protruding back claws click-clacked down the pristine black-and-white tile hallway as I rounded the corner and trotted toward the front of the building.

The receptionist desk was empty. It was after five—well after, as Mason worked “on call.” Therefore, as his lickey, I worked on call too.

At least I had no worries about Carrie, the new annoying secatary, bugging me every five seconds about Mason. “Does Mr. Maulings need anything? Did he get my messages? Did he blah blah blah?” The kitty meowed a mile a minute about the most inane things, usually revolving around Mason. About three seconds into a conversation with her, you’d want to chew off your leg, just so you’d have an excuse to run away.

Fifteen minutes after the human made the arrangements, the courier arrived. I indicated the box, wrapped in paper from Carrie’s stash, so the courier would take it. Though he knew the spiel, as he’d done a few deliveries for us by now, I did this every time he picked stuff up, even if just for my peace of mind. Plus, with humans, you have to really drive things into their large, unwieldy brains, or it disappears into the void.

“This is an important, private delivery to Mr. Maulings’ wife,” I said. “It’s crucial she receives it immediately. Mr. Maulings likes working with you and your company, so we’d like to keep this relationship going.”

I paused to lick a paw and smooth my whiskers before widening my eyes to emphasize the importance of my next words. “He trusts you. And believe me, you don’t want to lose that trust. The previous courier learned that the hard way.”

That last part was total bulldog, but I found saying vague comments like that added to my boss’s feline mystique. And if they respected him, they’d respect me too.

The guy, looking down at me with fear in his round pupils, swallowed hard and nodded seriously, pocketing the wrapped package. “O-okay.”

He took off, biped-style, not even bothering to wait for the elevator, but dashing down the stairs.

Meowsion accomplished.


You’re all welcome. Now go get the original and just IMAGINE the main characters are cats as you read it :). Will they defeat Dogwithoutrix or will Jenna be stuck as a canine forever???

Meankitty & Jody W. *

Cattification Part 2: Excerpt of Light My Laserpointer

Since the excerpt is so long, we’ve broken Jodi Redfurr’s cattification in 2 parts. For part 1, check this out: It has the explanation, the feliniated blurb, the cover, etc. You will *definitely* want to check out the original excerpt at the Samhain Publishing site:

***Note 1: There is some mild kitty profanity in the following excerpt.

*** Note 2: As all the participants in the following excerpt are of the feline persuasion, we have taken the liberty of translating catspeak to English instead of the ‘meowmeowmeow’ humans tend to hear. You can see an excerpt with the meow’s intact in PrettyKitty of the Nile:

“Take your precious contract and shove it up your dog’s butt.”

His tail lashing, Aslan Furrytuna pounced on the fat sheaf of papers, running in place until all of the paper skidded toward the middle of the massive mahogany table where he was currently sequestered with fifteen members of the Kittykoni council. The papers twirled across the slick surface, drawing intense stares from Aslan’s colleagues. It was all they could do not to leap onto the table and sit upon each piece of paper, for sitting on a piece of paper is infinitely preferable to sitting on plain wood. Truthfully, colleague wasn’t the preferred term Aslan would use for any of these old farts.

“You will fulfill its terms.” Thomas Kittit shifted in his seat, his considerable bulk prompting a floof from the leather-upholstered cushion. A trace of fire shimmered in his cold blue eyes. Obviously he saw no need for his temper to spiral out of control. As head meower for the council, Thomas expected his demand to be met.

Too bad he didn’t know who the hiss he was dealing with.

Aslan surged to his strong black paws, crowding over Kittit. Stabbing the table with enough force to scratch the surface, he granted Thomas a ferocious scowl out of eyes he knew were the brilliant yellow of plain mustard, not that murky beige, spicy mustard mess. “I’d like to see the army of strays you intend on using to carry out your request.”

“It’s not a request, dog-boy.” Kittit shoveled a butter-covered, pill-sized dose of venomous hostility on the last mrow.

Thick silence descended on the room. The other council members watched intently, waiting for Aslan’s reaction to Thomas’s verbal gauntlet. He had no intention of satisfying their thirst for a cat fight. Kittit’s antagonism was nothing new. The cat had made it clear from the start he objected to Aslan being named Supreme Alpha-Hairball of the clan. Though Thomas argued that a three-year-old didn’t have the maturity to fulfill the role of leader, Aslan suspected the real reason Kittit’s fur was in a twist was because the cat had been jockeying for his son to achieve the rank of top cat. Or in this case, top meankitty.

Uncovered-effing-poo for him.

“You would break almost nine lives of tradition? What else do you plan to arch your back at in the name of selfishness?” Ripe contempt underscoring Thomas’s question, he kicked his back leg toward the massive bookcases lining the far wall. “Next you’ll suggest we hold a giant bonfire and toss the sacred Kittykoni texts in for kindling.”

Growls of dissent rumbled around Aslan, provoking an answering growl into escaping his throat. “You know well I have no intention of doing any such thing. But I see no point for this ridiculous mission. I’m fine where I am, living with my parents and their staff.”

“If you don’t do as told, you leave us no choice but to enforce the banishment doctrine. You’ll be named STRAY.” Kittit leaned forward, his flattish, Persian features practically glowing with triumphant glee. “Go ahead and take your walk of shame while wearing a cone-collar and limping from the ministrations of the Evil Vet. I certainly won’t stop you.”

The heavy thump of a cat landing on the table preceded a paw swatting Aslan’s shoulder. Cherry pipe smoke—his father’s human staffer’s personal vice—drifted to Aslan. Turning, he met the regret in Liam Furrytuna’s expression.

“Thomas is right. It’s your duty to carry out the contract.”

Sharp betrayal knifed through Aslan. His father’s claws pricked his skin, an attempt to enforce the seriousness of his words.

“I don’t say this to hurt you. But we must uphold the legacy of the Kittykoni. Already too many have forgotten the ways of our kind. We’ve got cats living on the streets, going feral, tolerating dogs… It’s chaos all around.”

Aslan struggled to corral his frustration. “It’s called evolution. Not necessarily a bad thing.”

A cough heavy with incipient hairball chuffed from Kittit. “What you call evolution I call demoralization.” He too jumped on the tabletop, sending a shudder through the ancient wood. Kittit was one fat cat. “Humans used to squee at the sight of a Kittykoni, and take us home and feed us all the fish we wanted. Now they taunt us by portraying our kind on Internet meme blogs.  Cheezburgers and invisible biking all the time, for all that’s unholy!”

Aslan rolled his eyes. “By Lion, you’re right. LOLCats is a conspiracy cooked up by humans to bring us sobbing to our bellies in shame. I wonder how the devil they discovered our secret love affair with bad spelling?” Jaguarsus, but Kittit’s idiotic paranoia and obsession with that one spot under the fridge was exhausting at times.

“You are out of line, dog-boy.”

“And you are an asshat.”

He and Kittit exchanged fierce glares, neither willing to blink and award the other an edge. The staring contest was on. The soft click of his mother’s claws tapped a warning on the floor as she approached the gathering. Still he kept his focus centered on Kittit.

“Aslan, please be reasonable. Now is not the time to ruffle the fur of the council.”

Thomas broke eye contact first–YES!!!–and twitched his whiskers at Maggie Furrytuna. Aslan burned with the desire to swat the smarmy look off the other cat’s smushed-in face.

“Listen to your mama, dog-boy. She’ll steer you well.”

Aslan glanced at his mother and took in her beseeching expression, her pupils as big and round as a Precious Moments figurine. Her paw lifted and batted at the silver cat claw suspended from a delicate chain around a random cat scratcher in the middle of the table. He couldn’t remember ever seeing the cat scratcher before, but it was clearly a custom job, since the claw was the insignia of the Kittykoni. As a direct, pure blood descendent of Lucius, first of the mighty cats, Maggie Furrytuna was the closest thing to royalty the clan possessed. The others revered her and in return, she did not take her responsibility to them lightly. As her son, Aslan was expected to dewclaw the same line. Even when everything inside him roared, lionlike, at the injustice of being caged inside a cat carrier with an antiquated tradition.

“Fine, I’ll do it.” He bit the agreement out woodenly.

“Good.” Kittit didn’t disguise the triumph in his loud, Siamese-like voice. “I’ve taken the liberty of booking a red eye for you both. You’ll be leaving for Michigan early tomorrow morning.”

Presumptuous son of a bitch. Flicking his whiskers, Aslan spun from the table. He took three bounds before Kittit’s statement fully registered with a resounding yowl in his consciousness. Apprehension slithering along his spine, he stalled.

Both?” Slowly, he turned.

A satisfied smirk revealed Kittit’s front fangs. “Surely you didn’t think you’d be the only one fulfilling the contract, given your special circumstances?”

With some doing, Aslan kept his pupils normal. “Of course not.” He pivoted and stalked the remaining distance to the large double doors leading from the council chambers. There he clawed at them repeatedly, meowing, until one of the human staffers waiting in the shadows opened the door. In the hall, he scratched the door again, returning to the council chambers, repeating the scratch-demand three more times before he had relieved his aggressive feelings.

Once he finished door-scratching, he buckled to the fury boiling inside him and tore into a vase of flowers like a feline hurricane. Petals flew. Glass shattered. Shaking pollen from his fur, he strutted to the front entrance of the Seattle-based Kittykoni cat house. (Not to be confused with human cat houses, naturally.) He stepped outside, his focus immediately riveting on the monster dually pickup straddling two parking spots in the rear of the lot.

At least he wouldn’t have to go looking for Jace. That was the Furrytuna human staffer’s truck, since he and Jace hadn’t yet bothered to find their own humans. Which, Aslan realized, had resulted in this stupid mission.

Angry hisses funneling from his mouth, Aslan stalked toward the truck, the silent pad of his paws providing his littermate zero warning that he was five seconds away from getting his furry ass whupped.

Aslan leapt onto the hood and spied Laurie Kittit sprawled across the bench seat in a sun spot, her tight, well-groomed fur shining on her sleek body. Jace, Aslan’s littermate, was licking Laurie’s ears as they enjoyed the warmth together. If the delirious purr coming from Laurie was any indication, the sunspot was a good one. A really good one.

“Oh Meow! You’ve almost got that itch. Don’t you dare stop.” Still purring, Laurie dug her claws into the truck’s black leather seat, ripping it as she kneaded.

Aslan slammed his body onto the windshield, howling like a banshee. Laurie jerked her eyes open and shrieked when she spotted him. His disinterested glance skipped over her fluffled tail.

“Sorry to break up the party.” He wasn’t. Not by a long shot. If Kittit discovered his daughter was getting her ears licked by Jace during her mouse break, a cat-pan-crap-storm would erupt. Aslan didn’t have the patience or the time to deal with it. “I need to speak to my littermate. Now.”

A pitiful mew filtering from Jace, he scooted onto his haunches. He licked his white paw one last time, his narrowed pupils glinting with annoyance. “This better be hairball important.”

“We’re leaving for Michigan in the morning.”

Jace blinked. “Wait, you mean…?”

“Yeah.” Aslan pushed the remaining words through clenched fangs. “We’re sharing the new human servant.”


I know! So much better, right?? No cold, scaly, weird dragon things, no kitten-making, no glorification of the two-legged form. Cats, cats and more cats.

(Speaking of Cats, Cats, Cats, this is a good kids’ book:

I hope you have all enjoyed today’s double post. Check back soon to see what happens next! (Not between Aslan and Jace, though that does rouse some curiosity, but on the blog.)

Meankitty & Jody W. *

Cattification: Light My Laserpointer by Jodi Redfurr

We have a new cattification today, which is a two parter since I’m posting the excerpt here this time. First, though, let’s check out the deliciously felined cover and blurb for the human romance novel, Light My Fire, by Jodi Redford. It involves something about twin males who can change into dragons and who decide to, repeatedly, attempt to make kittens with some lady. I don’t know. Humans are weird. I can see why my Typing Slave wants me to fix this stuff.

As purr usual, we recommend you check out the original before proceeding with the cattification!

Light My Laserpointer by Jodi Redfurr

Original is Light My Fire:

Double the furpower, triple the sleep…

Aslan Furrytuna’s orders are clear: Find the woman, claim her as a human servant—and share her with his dumb-as-dog, white-furred littermate. Distasteful as it is, the Kittykoni council insists the ancient custom be honored. Or Aslan will be banished….to a house with dogs in it.

One glance at Dana Colourpoint, and Aslan is thrown into the kitty version of a tailspin. (Not to be confused with a kitty tail clothespin, something you should NEVER EVER DO.) Claim her? Heck, yes, he’ll claim her. Not only does she have opposable thumbs, but she tends to sit still for long periods of time and fiddle around with laserpointers! Problem is, she has no idea her father signed her up to foster pooches, from birth. As in, puppies. As in, poop and pee and whining everywhere. (Which does explain why the dog-fostering people keep showing up with baskets of the annoying things, but nobody ever said Dana was quick.)

Dana has fostered enough peek-a-poodles to fill an insane asylum. Two gorgeous kitties hanging around her back porch, staring in the windows, meowing and claiming to be her owners? Par for the course. Until they give her a tantalizing glimpse of their inner beasts, which makes her think she’s the one headed for a padded cell—for actually considering their demand that she no longer foster dogs but instead serve kitties, for life.

Her resistance melts away under the onslaught of two kitties who shed enough fur to coat all the couches in a six-block radius. Especially when she realizes most of her clothes match Aslan’s pelt. But with a town full of dog lovers and a Nemesis Stray lurking in the shadows, surviving a week of Aslan and Jace’s double-teaming, stairs-galloping, catpan-scratching, laserpointer-leaping, bed-hogging will be the least of her problems…

Warning: Contains two sheddin’ on the beddin’ kitties and their not-so-unwilling human convert. A few collar malfunctions and inappropriate use of kitty treats, as in, Dana locked them in the drawer before Aslan and Jace were finished gnoshing. You might want to have your local pound on speed dial in case any dogs show up during the reading of this book.

I shall be posting the cattified excerpt here in a trice. If you’d like to line up for a cattification of your own, just contact my human. She’s better with the emails than I am, what with her opposable thumbs and tendency to sit still for long periods of time, qualities in a two-legger we cats clearly appreciate.

Meankitty & Jody W. *

PS: The gorgeous feline models on our cover are Sam (black) and Sassi (white) from Sam doesn’t have a Gallery page at Meankitty since he isn’t actually MEAN, but Sassi is at:

PPS: Part 2 with the excerpt is here:

Cattification: Feline Fantasies

Today as part of our helpful cattification series, we are fixing what’s known as an “erotic” romance by an author named Jodie Griffin. (And by “fixing” we do not mean “neutering”, in case you were wondering.) Before you proceed, we recommend you visit the book’s original blurb and cover, where you will also find buy links.

The repair of a romance of this type is tricky. The human-oriented original involves many scenes in which the two-leggers are naked and trying their darndest to do that annoying, honchy thing Big D does with the brown blanket Typing Slave gave away, aka The D Blanket. Moreover, the plot and evidently the plot summary and cover involve these scenes as well, which you will have noticed if you checked out the original. Since I, Meankitty, think that activity is boring and pointless, this cattification did require an especially facile use of my exceptional literary abilities.

Thus, I present to you, FELINE FANTASIES.

After fifteen years of meowage, Javanese Meyers’s cat toy life is, well, a little predictable. Her human staffer sometime turns on the laser pointer, but dancing red dots on the wall once or twice a week? And a generic stuffed catnip mouse? It just can’t compare to the exciting new world she discovers in the pages of MUCH (Multiple Cat Household) Magazine. Her fantasies of other felines fuel the fire of her desire, adding a new spark to her dashing and chasing and running amuck up and down the stairs at two a.m. But Java is afraid to tell her human what she really wants in her house–and her secret longing starts coming between them.

State trooper Alex Meyers is a master at uncovering the truth–except when it comes to his sweet, gorgeous kitty owner. She’s clearly keeping something from him. An affair with a stray? She wants out? And back in? And out? And back in? Even though she has a cat door in the garage she could use herself if she wanted? When he finally confronts Java, he’s shocked to learn she longs to turn her multiple feline fantasy into a nightly reality.

But when he takes her to a unique F and F–Felines and Furballs Kitty Haven–catering to couples who want several cats, Alex is about to find out just how far he’ll go.

One cat? Two cats? Three cats? Four? Whatever Java wants. He exists only to please her.

To read the well-cattified excerpt of the novel, visit Jodie’s blog:!

Today’s Meankitty models are Risky Business: and Emma the Grey:

Meankitty & Typing Slave *