These are the Cats: Emails from Our Furry Frenemies + GIVEAWAY

Bridie Savage is the beleaguered heroine of Berni Stapleton’s This is the Cat (Creative Book Publishing). After losing her job and her beloved Uncle, she begins to think her problems have turned for the absolute worst when she starts receiving emails from, supposedly, her cat. It only took the mere suggestion of cat literacy (not to mention typing dexterity) that ALU publishers and staffers’ own cats started sending in a litany of feline complaints, criticisms, and told-you-so’s. These are the cats of Canadian literary publishing, in all of their self-centred, meowing, purring glory.We’re celebrating these kitty tell-alls with a GIVEAWAY on our Facebook page: tell us the name of your cat (or what you would name it, if not for an allergy/dog/cat aversion) for a chance to win your own copy of This is the Cat (courtesy Creative Book Publishing).And now, for the emails. Let the sassiness commence.***Dear Hazel and Jay,I know that you like to tell everyone I am the mascot at BookThug HQ but, come on, we all know I’m in charge around here.  When are you going to finally set the record straight?P.S.: When you have a moment, can you please get my toy mouse out from under the stove? No matter what I do I keep losing it under there.

Dear Hazel and Jay,I see you out there, you know. I demand to be let outside too so I can chase bugs and eat grass. Until you change your mind about me being an “indoor” cat, I’ll just employ my spidey-cat talents and hang here on your screen door.***Dear Christen,

I appreciate the library you set up for me here: sheep skin, heat lamp, and lots of books. But seriously, dusty literary classics and programming handbooks? You have bad taste. Might I recommend Little Cat, Alice in Plunderland, How the Cougar Came to be Called the Ghost?Dear Christen,Baseball is boring, nothing ever happens. You need to get a catnip filled ball and we will show you how to play in real life. Look into my eyes: no more watching baseball. More cat time.P.S. Granite says, “When’s dinner?”***Dear Opener of Doors, Why do you persist with these boring paper objects? Can you not see the sun is bright and the grass is green? Let us go in search of that rustling sound. Surely that is better than sitting here.***Dear Beth,I see that you have stockpiled my things in that wooden box in the kitchen where you keep a big bottle of white vinegar for your various cleaning jobs, rather than taking these over to Heavenly Creatures where some living cat could benefit from them. This fact leads me to believe that you are thinking of getting another cat. Are you? If so, may I have a word: you know that light blue flannel duvet cover? the one with the dark blue circles? If your new cat could look at least half as good as I did when lying on it, dreaming, well, I would think that very nice.***Hi lady,I really look forward to seeing you again – unless you choose to wield a tiny pair of scissors for the purposes of cutting my claws. I have big plans to grow them out so I may climb up the walls and pry open doors, and you continue to thwart said plans despite my adorable protests. I have caught onto your attempts to distract me with fresh fish while clipping, by the way. Very clever. Also – I do love snuggling with you, but please respect my choice to up and leave after 3 seconds. It’s not personal. Gordie***Dear Lauren,I know about that other room that you keep shut all the time. The bed in there is the softest, and I demand free passage, lest I continue to claw slowly through the back of the new leather sofa when you’re not looking.P.S. I will claw through the sofa regardless.***Dear balding cat,You need to return home right now. I can see the bottom of both food bowls, and I fear I will starve to death in the next few hours if you do not fill them soon. I know you believe that there is still “plenty” of food in those bowls, but you would be terribly mistaken. The bottom means the end, of both the food and me. As you can see from this selfie, I am already wasting away.***

Dear Stephanie,Next time I achieve moderate internet fame, please step up your game. Thirteen thousand likes on @catsofinstagram was nice and all, but let’s face it, we could have done better. You were excited about it for, like, one minute. We could have had an entire empire up and running by now. Grumpy Cat, Lil’ Bub. Come on. I’m adorable.P.S. I still love you, but “gives kisses on demand” was such an embarrassing caption.*****Many thanks to all of our publishers’ cats for sharing their emails with us (but really our publishers, we’re just trying to stay on the cats’ good sides).