setting note: this story takes place on or around the time frame and setting of the latest cat who book ('60 whiskers'),
though the story-line may take a bit of a turn, it will be helpful for the reader to have read the
latest book so as to have a better understanding of what is to come in this tale .

very important legal disclaimer:
** this is non-published, not-for-pay fan fiction and the rights belong fully to the series publisher Putnam and fabulous author
Lilian Jackson Braun, not me - for more information on this series and to purchase 'Cat Who' books for your own collection please click
this link: Complete-Mysteries-Lilian-Jackson-Braun-List to see this list at Amazon.com **

.. Dust jacket story description:

Much thanks to my faithful editor Laura for her fantastic editing!
She helps keep me ever true to Cat Who style and tradition. Her work here
helps to bring life and breath to the characters of Moose County. I am
sincerely not sure I could do this without her.

ONE

To Jim Qwilleran it has all seemed like a bad nightmare. From the sudden loss of his most important companion and friend (humanly speaking), to the equally stunning loss of his fair weather residence (a large converted apple barn), James Macintosh Qwilleran’s world was seemingly turned upside down.

        It had started out like any other normal Moose County fall, a bit warmer than usual yes, but not one for ol' Weatherby's record books. The only truly odd occurrence was a local death by bee sting, the circumstances of which had caused a slight tingle in the salt and pepper moustache of the man the locals called Mr. Q. All in all though, it was fall, and fall was the time Qwilleran's fawn colored roommates, a pair of Siamese with an over abundance of personality, went a bit wacky watching leaves fall from their front row window seats and were driven positively mad as the local consortium of nut hiders went about their pre-winter preparations. And fall was the time to think about shutting up their spacious round barn, and beating a hasty retreat to the more manageable winter quarters, a nicely kitted out condo in Indian Village, before the lake effect snows started to pummel Pickax once again. Being so far North (400 miles North of everywhere as townsfolk would say!) often meant earlier than normal snows, even earlier than Jim had experienced in the cold Windy City down South. It had been a few years since ‘The Big One’ had last hit, and Qwilleran was not about to take any chances. It was during these moving and packing preparations that a conversation about Halloween trivia slowed him down.

       "Joe, are you predicting an early snow for Moose County? Or just for Brrr?" Qwilleran asked.

        Joe Bunker, known to most as Wetherby Goode the local weather man, replied, "Frost on the pumpkin for sure and you can quote me on that!"

      "Hmmm...I'm not convinced," came the response to the impromptu long-range forecast. "A little frost I can handle. It's the mountains of snow of which I'm not so fond."

        Joe went on, "Speaking of pumpkins, did you know that Halloween originated up here in the Northlands? Well, technically, you can trace it back to your plaid roots Qwill, but the tradition of trick-or-treating as the kiddies now practice it was given to us by a small town in Minnesota less than 50 years ago!"

       Qwilleran filed that fact into his Qwill Pen future idea bank as one worthy of further investigation. "You don't say?"

      "Yes, and it makes me have to ask. Why have you never had a Halloween party here in your big old barn? I mean, what better place could be found in all of Moose County for the bobbing of apples than in an old apple barn?"

     “Humph!” Qwilleran blew through his large mustache. "I guess I haven't been too keen on hosting another large party after that fiasco with Koko. Besides, I'm not too sure either he nor YumYum would be too up on the idea of a dark dye job to dress up as black cats!"

        Joe continued, "Well it bears some thought Jim. After all, you’ll be moving out soon and your cat friends can avoid the fur dye makeover by just choosing to be party poopers back at the condo. Besides, with them out of the way, it would be easier for decorating. Imagine what sort of theme our famous Miss Hixie could come up with and what she could do if she had the place to herself!"

        Qwilleran gave Joe a stare. "Yes, I can only imagine."

TWO

Later the next day, the richest man in the upper Midwest made his way through the Pickax Market looking for deals. Actually he was looking for something new with which to tempt his cats. Lately Koko had been turning his nose up at the usual fare and Yum Yum more often than not didn’t turn up at all. “Cats!” he thought as he combed the shelves for some kind of feline feast.

      "Margo, what do you have for a couple of brat cats? They seem to be off their feedbag lately."

       Margo, who had just moved to Pickax that summer to take over the running of the family store from her older, now retired sister, came out from behind a display. "Hi Mr. Q! Didn't see you there. Are Koko and Yum Yum tired of my chopped chicken salad already? I thought you said they were mad about it, especially after I substituted salmon in place of the fowl."

      "Well," came the response. "There’s no accounting for taste among the four-legged set. I wish they’d just eat normal cat food. It would make things so much easier. Then again, if someone were to tell me I should only have water and the same food everyday I might not be too happy. Still, other cats seem okay with that sort of arrangement. My cats are way too pampered. I’ve spoiled them over the years with people food. I could probably pin the blame on my old housekeeper, Mrs. Cobb, as she got me started on rich diets for Koko when we both still lived Down Below. How would it be if I brought in some of Mrs. Cobb's old recipes? Maybe you could help me figure out what a pampered cat might like?"

        As Margo considered the idea another customer came in.

       "Hi ya Mr. Q!" It was Junior Goodwinter. Junior was as involved in the community as Jim Qwilleran himself. From his work as managing editor at the Moose County Something (the local paper), to taking part in Pickax Theatre's productions, Junior seemed to have his hand in it all. He was a good natured man, young, and with plenty of boyish charms. Despite the loss of his father, that had managed to take some of the edge off of his happy-go-lucky personality, Junior remained irrepressible.

        Qwilleran smiled and addressed the man. "What's the matter Junior? Run out of coffee at The Something?"

       "Funny Mr. Q. No, I'm actually here to see you. I was walking over to the hardware store when I noticed you through the window."

      "What's up Junior?"

      "Well, our task master has given me the assignment to try to come up with some seasonal spreads. He wants them to be regional with some local tie-ins if possible. The idea is to cover some of the more well known fall festivals within a 100 mile radius as well as some lesser or unknown fall happenings. I guess with the peak of the fall colors less than two weeks away, he wants to run a Thursday through Sunday series on several pages as soon as possible."

        Qwilleran looked up at Junior. "Is Riker trying to use the falling leaves to bring up the bottom line at the paper?"

        Junior laughed. "Maybe so. But I was wondering if you would consider a bit of a road trip, or trips as the case may be, to go visit some of these events and report back what you find. We partly want to educate the readers on what‘s going on in the area as well as to inspire them to consider some more local possibilities. As you know, Moose County really doesn't have any sort of annual fall festival and maybe your field reports would spur on some movement among the citizens along these lines. What do you think?"

       "How full of a spread are we talking about here Junior? Would I be the only contributing author? And what about photographs?"

       "I've already got Bushy signed on for this project," Junior replied. John Bushland, known as Bushy despite his obvious lack of hair, was the area's most prominent photographer. "And we can get some help with the more localized events and places that people like to visit this time of year," Junior went on. "You will be our ‘man abroad’ so to speak, covering the goings-on in the more outlying areas."

      "Tell Arch I'll think about it."

      "He said you'd say that."

      "He knows me well."

      "I like the idea!" the storekeeper said as Junior left the market. "Fall is my favorite time of year! And I would really love to read about your discoveries!"

       "I'm not signed up quite yet for the project," was Qwilleran's curb to her enthusiasm. "For now I must concentrate on saving my 'kids' from certain starvation. Any thoughts come to mind yet Margo?"

       "Pre-cooked or are you willing to get out the apron and pots?"

       "I am a bachelor, so let's please keep it simple," he said. And with that, he was supplied with some fully cooked stew beef, some frozen vegetables, and a can of broth. The cats would get some of the meat, and with the rest he would have a nice hot supper.

THREE

On his drive back, Jim made a quick stop at Pirate’s Chest to see his long-time girlfriend Polly Duncan, and to pick up something new to read. Pirate’s Chest was Pickax’s newest bookstore complete with guard cat or ‘Bibliocat,’ as Dundee, a beautiful male marmalade, was often called.

      “Qwill, what a nice surprise!," Polly exclaimed.

       “I'm full of surprises. You should know that by now. How are you Polly?”

       “I'm fine, but a bit bushed from today’s battles!”

       “Is the Pirate’s Chest under siege?”
        Polly laughed. “Almost! We've been having a run on nature books, especially those dealing with the local fauna. Seems everyone is interested in learning more about the area's trees and plants now that the fall season is in full swing. This goes for both the local book buyers as well as those visiting from Down Below.”

       ‘Down Below’ was how the locals referred to the far flung areas South of Moose County. The fall season was of particular interest to tourists coming up to see the annual changing of the leaves. This part of the state was always a hot spot of tourism, with a hundred miles of lake and variety of Spring and Summertime events. Fall though was the last ‘hurrah,' so to speak, before the tourist dollars went away for the year. People from all parts brought their hiking shoes, cameras, and wallets to explore, capture, and purchase ‘all things fall.’ It was a big deal for the area, and with the warmer than normal temps, folks were turning out in droves.

       “Polly, I'm in search of something new to read. What can you recommend?”

      “Qwill dearest, by ‘new’ do you mean something written more recently or something that is new to you?”

      “Well, I've never been put off by a publication date yet, be it old or new. However, I think I would enjoy something of a more recent vintage. What do you have in mind?”

        Polly pointed him to the Recent Release section of the store and went back to selling leaf books to the vacationers. Qwill picked up this volume, and then that volume, carefully examining titles and dust jackets and backs for more details. He picked up one volume that was a collection of short stories all about train engines and thumbed through it. He read one of the stories and decided he knew all he needed to know about the subject and put it back. Another book was a pictorial guide to aquatic lake life. One book contained nothing but recipes for busy mothers. He paged through a work on rural Midwest art that included some barn-art that had some potential, but he returned it to the shelf when he realized most of it was about saw blade and mailbox painting. He just couldn't seem to get interested in anything. He looked at his watch and headed back to the main counter.

      “No luck Polly."

      “That’s too bad. Maybe if we talk a bit I can figure out something to recommend. What’s the latest at the paper? Do you have any upcoming Qwill Pen projects that deserve some advance research or inspiration?”

       “I did run into Junior at the market before I came over here," Qwill answered. He then proceeded to fill her in on the possible extended writing    assignment.

       “That sounds wonderful Qwill! I think you should do it! And I think I have a reading suggestion for you. Why not pick up a larger city newspaper or two for some possible fall story related inspiration?"
        He huffed a bit at the suggestion he would be in need of inspiration for his writing but decided that it might be good to catch up on the doings 400 miles below (generally) and of his old employer (specifically). “Didn’t you hear? Nature has been outlawed in the Big City. They cut down the last tree years ago to comply with the law. No trees no leaves, no leaves no fall celebrations.”

        Polly looked at him with a bit of a smirk on her lips as she handed him the paper.

        He reached into his pocket and pulled out the cost of a weekday edition of The Daily Fluxion and plunked it down on the counter as he took the paper. “Well, I have to run Polly. I have vegetables for supper melting out in my car.”

       “You drove dear?”

       “I was lazy.”

       “Talk to you tonight!”

       “Already looking forward to it!" he said in anticipation of their nightly call. And with parting pleasantries exchanged, Qwilleran made his way out, crossing a large doormat, which was less a ‘welcome’ and more a reminder to not let the cat out! A thought entered his mind that it might be a good thing that the bookstore didn't have automatic doors because he wasn't 100% sure the resident Bibliocat was completely literate! Besides, he chuckled to himself, most cats are not willing to follow verbal instructions much less written ones!


        Back at the barn Qwill unpacked his purchases and cooked supper for himself and his two furry roommates.

      “Okay kids," Jim announced, “Let’s go outside and enjoy the weather.     OUT!”

        Upon hearing the word “out” the cats began to dance and prance around, yowling and rowling in verbal ecstasy, tail tips twitching and whiskers bristling. He opened the door to their padded cat carrier and in they rushed - as always, competitive Koko first. On his way outdoors he eyed the newspaper he just bought and grabbed that too, figuring the cats would enjoy a good ‘read.’

        Once outside and settled into the screened in gazebo, he announced, “Read!" He laughed out loud as he watched a confused Koko dashing back and forth, the male Siamese looking around for a bookshelf to jump up on to choose a book for the ‘read.’

      “Sorry old boy. Not trying to trick you. I've already selected tonight’s reading. You should be interested – this is news from back home, or what used to be our home.”

        Koko looked up at him and blinked. Yum Yum yawned. Undeterred their owner opened and spread out the pages of the Fluxion on his lap. He read aloud for a while, hypnotizing the cats. His reading voice always had this effect on them. It didn't matter if he was reading an intense story about some international devastation caused by a flood or earthquake, or a scandal about big government graft and corruption, or the sale ad from the Yarn        Outlet.

        In the distance thunder was heard and lights began to flash on the horizon.

       “Here’s one: ‘Super Max Prison Stops Attempted Escape.' ‘The Treator Maximum Security Prison had yet another escape attempt on Tuesday night. This is the third attempted escape in the last two months. Prison officials have assured the public that all possible steps are being taken to prevent any escapes and to stop further attempts.’"

      “Hmmm ... They don’t really give much information here Koko. I guess investigative reporting is going the way of the incandescent light bulb! No details, no attempt times listed, nothing about how they were caught. And no information if it was even a ‘they’ or a ‘him.' I don’t read any mention of names anywhere in this article! What is the journalistic world coming to my    friend?”

        But as Koko opened his mouth to reply, “BOOM!” came the answer from overhead. The cats almost hit the gazebo roof as they jumped.
       "Let’s go!" Qwilleran yelled as he grabbed up the cats and pushed them into the carrier along with the paper.

        He reached the barn as the first heavy drops of rain began to fall.

FOUR

        Qwill made his way to the newspaper office to hand in copy. His twice weekly column "Straight from the Qwill Pen" was due today. He was in a walking mood and decided to hoof it to the office of the Moose County Something. It was only a few blocks away and it would give him the chance to enjoy his own little colorful corner of the world. The trees outside the apple barn were already looking glorious! As he walked down his drive he looked back at the barn. He would have to talk to Bushy about coming out to take some fall photographs. The trees were ablaze in glory and perfectly back set by the barn with its massive fieldstone foundation. There had been some talk about taking pictures of his residence to profit local charities and days like today really made him consider it.

        There were a multitude of varieties only a few of which he felt he could name with any confidence and accuracy. Small leaves, orange, papery bark – Silver Birch. Pointy leaves, green and yellow, and any schoolboy he found could easily name – maple. Wasn’t there more than one type of maple? He could think of two, Silver and Red. Rough bark, was that elm or walnut? He spied acorns and ripple-edged brownish red leaves – oak for sure. But he was also sure there was more than one type of oak. The tall ones along the back were poplars; he knew that for sure as he recalled being a boy and thinking they were called ‘Popular’ trees. He was disappointed with himself as he looked from tree to tree. Blood red crimsons, day glow yellows and greens, burnt ambers – it seemed every color in the crayon ‘big box’ was represented. Yet as a man who could provide detailed summaries of each of Shakespeare’s 154 sonnets, he could not name more than a handful of the trees on his own property. He determined another visit to Pirate’s Chest would be in order.

        Downtown Pickax was always a shock to the system to the newly arrived. A sweeping panorama of Old Country architecture, complete with Scottish castles and Spanish fortresses constructed in actual stone. From his early days in the city, he felt like it all looked fake, almost like a really bad movie set.

        As usual the man with the big moustache was barraged with comments and questions from the local Main Street shoppers.

      “Hi ya, Mr. Q!”

      “How is Cool Koko Mr. Q?”

      “Mr. Q, I’m still using that yellow pencil I won last year!”
      “I loved what you wrote about toadstools and mushrooms Mr. Q. I didn’t know there were so many differences!”

      “My wife and I have a scrapbook collection of all your columns Mr. Qwilleran.”

      “Are you working on a new book Mr. Q?”

       As he crossed Main Street toward the offices of the Something, the toot of a car horn got his attention. Looking up he spotted the waving silhouette of the perennial school boy and paper editor. Junior pulled over to the curb in front of the paper’s offices and parked.

      “Hey Mr. Q! Coming to turn in your column?”

      “Junior, is that level of window tinting legal here in Moose County? I almost didn’t recognize you. Did the Something purchase some new vans?”

       Junior laughed, “Yeah. We got a couple of new ones but still need to get the lettering and logo painted on the outside. Finally got the boss man to break down and replace the old shag carpeted rust bucket models.”

       Qwilleran walked into Arch Riker’s office. Arch Riker had been his best friend from childhood, working together as cub reporters in Chicago. He had also been his editor Down Below and was now manager in chief of Pickax’s main in-print news source.

      “Arch, I hear rumors you want to change my part time status.”

      “Hi Jim. Come on in and have a seat. Cup of coffee?”
      
      “No thanks,” he answered as he pulled up a chair and handed his newest column copy across the desk to his friend.

        Arch flipped through the copy, acting as if he was mentally counting pages and said, “You know Jim, you could save yourself as well as the paper a whole lot of time and energy if you would just get yourself a laptop computer. We wouldn’t have to re-key your columns each week. I swear! You are the only person I know who doesn’t have e-mail! When are you going to stop being such a stubborn old goat and join the rest of us in this brave new technologically advanced era?”

      “As I’ve said before, I like my typewriter and it likes me. I’m on intimate terms with each of my Selectrics’ 56 keys and would hate to be unfaithful at this point in our long monogamous relationship. Besides, I do turn in my copy occasionally on tape as you know.”

        Arch Riker rolled his eyes over his cup of coffee and looked back up at his friend. “We still have to manually transcribe. You better watch yourself Qwill, you’re starting to sound like old man Goodwinter. Junior’s father refused to give up his Gutenberg of which he was sooo proud. ‘Pride comes before a fall’ you know.”

        Qwilleran huffed to change the subject,“Arch, speaking of fall, if the rumors I’m hearing are true about you wanting to change my part time status, I’ll want more money you know.”

      “How about we double your pay? Let’s see...we pay you nothing now, so two times nothing...wait, I need a calculator.”

      “Okay, what’s the assignment?”

       “Jim, we want to get you out in the field to solve a real Moose County Mystery: ‘The Case of the Missing Moose County Fall Festival!’ Think you’re up for it? Seriously, it seems every county and almost every major city has some sort of annual fall celebration except for us. It would be good to know what events are happening around this part of the state, what sorts of seasonal activities are available, what draws the typical fall tourist, and so forth. You can get the local Pickax pulse as a tie-in.”

      “That sounds like a lot of work. I’m pretty busy trying to get the barn shut up for the year.”

       “I say put a nix on that for a while Jim. Didn’t you tune into WPKX this morning? There was a water main break on Ittibittiwassee Road right around midnight. Getting in and out of the Willows is a real mess right now. They got the water flowing again but the road was really messed up. Gonna take at least two weeks to get it all back to normal I hear. Sounds like it’s going to be a real hassle getting in and out of Indian Village for a while. I say this is a good time to take a road trip. We’d be happy to take in a couple of feline boarders if you want some fleabag motel overnights. The Something would be happy to provide travel vouchers.”

      “How many stories are we talking about here? Would I need to drive back to turn in my reports? I don’t think we could wait on regular mail to send tapes. And what about pictures? Junior mentioned Bushy was signed onto the project already.”

      “Well, it’s still pretty early in the month, so I think there is a lot of opportunity here. Of course we’d want at least one big story for the Sunday edition and maybe a smaller big story for Saturday. And I’d like to see at least something daily if at all possible, even if it is just a single column worth of material each day. Plus we’d want you to announce the whole thing in your next Qwill Pen AND we’d still want your regular columns of course.”

      “‘Smaller big,’ eh? Sounds like ‘jumbo shrimp.’ You aren’t asking for much Arch. I might have some time left to write a dating advice column each day too if you’d like.”

      “No need for sarcasm buddy. I know you’re up for it. You won’t need to drive your reports back unless you’re coming home for the night. Just type them up and fax them in. Most modern motels have fax machines these days Jim. We’ll provide you some suggestions to get you started. I’m having Junior pull a list of every fall function that we know about to give to you. You can coordinate with Bushy on the photographs.“

      “When would I need to start?”

      “Right away! I’ll have Junior drop off the seeder material to you at the barn. I say look it all over, get your game plan, and then let’s have lunch or supper together before you head out.”

      “Alright Arch. Have Junior drop off the travel vouchers too and you got yourself a fall foreign correspondent.”

        Qwilleran was about to stand up to go when a final bit of unsolicited advice came his way.

       “Jim, get a computer and a fast connection to the internet. I know you boycott all forms of video electronic media, but a PC is completely different than a TV. Television may be for boobs who become mindless cable junkies, but a computer is perfect for all sorts of things, the least of which I think you would enjoy the most – research! I am not sure if you knew this or not, but the entire U.S. Library of Congress is now on-line.”

        Qwill got up and silently took his leave after one final look at his friend. Partly because he had people to see and books to buy; and partly because he couldn’t come up with a good retort with which to fire back.

      “Hmmm ... Library of Congress?” he mused to himself as he opened the door and stepped out onto the sidewalk.

      Deciding to live dangerously, he jaywalked across Main Street and made his way toward Walnut. As he approached the gray stucco and red tile roofed book store, he glanced across the street at the park. Yet more brightly colored trees he couldn’t identify with any certainty. Turning, he pulled open the door. The Pirate’s Chest was one of his favorite places in town and not just because it was where his beloved Polly worked. This place had a rich history! Yes, the long and narrow building was new, but he could sense the presence of its previous owner, Eddington Smith. Edd was an odd-duck for sure, eating beans right out of the can, selling pre-owned books, and doing bookbinding in his back room. But he, like Qwill, was a lover of books, inside and out. He also possessed a love for cats which was evidenced in how he shared his life with his very own bibliocat. Qwill remembered that cat ate better than he did! He paused as another thought came to him, My picky cats eat better than I do, too! As he considered his pampered housemates, a voice caught his attention.

     "Hello dear!" Polly said as she finished climbing the last of the steps that connected the main floor to the volunteer center in the lower level. "What brings you here this time of day?"

     "Hi Polly! I need another fix and you’re the only dealer in town!" he said with a big smile as he gave her a sideways wink.

      Polly scrunched up her nose and returned the smile in a girlish fashion.

     "Do you have time for a break? I’d like to talk to you."

     "Sure!" Polly said as she tossed off her bookseller smock and grabbed her pocket book. "Rosemary, can you please cover for me for a few minutes?"

      Polly led Qwill down to a break area on the lower level, past a few volunteers who were working with a group of preschool aged children. The break room had all the modern conveniences one might expect; vending machines with candy, chips and gum, soda pop machine, and a drip coffee maker with a sign proclaiming: Free to Coffee Club Members, all others, 25 cents a cup.

     "Would you like some coffee Qwill?" As Qwill began to dig in his pockets for change she quickly followed up with, "My treat!" pulling a quarter out and plunking it into a slotted coffee can. She poured two cups, walked over to the table in the middle of the room, and sat down facing her mustached man.

     "What’s up?"

     "Polly, I took that assignment I mentioned for the Something."

     "When do you start? What will you be writing about? Which town will you visit first?"

     "You know Arch. He wants me to start right away. Junior’s supposed to drop off a bunch of material to me, so I’m not sure where I’m going to begin or what exactly I’ll be writing about. I was hoping to just make it up as I go."
 
     "Sounds like the James Mackintosh Qwilleran I know!"
 
     "Hey, when you have a style that works, you stick with it!" he said with another wink.

     "Is there anything I can assist you with as you get ready? Was the paper any help?"

     "To be honest, I didn’t get too far into the news before the storm blasted in and chased us indoors. I tell you what I’d like. I really need for you to help me pick out several good books on the local flora. There are so many varieties of trees and plants in the area, I’m afraid I may need some help in identifying them all. Also if you have any books on local travel, that would be helpful. Anything that might cover areas outside of Moose County would be good. Does the book store sell maps as well? I could use a map or two, particularly ones focusing on this part of the state."

     "Yes, we have maps! And there’s a shelf for local touring in the Travel Section that’s very popular. I can select a good variety of nature books for you as well."

     "Thanks Polly. I knew I could count on you to keep me supplied! Can I return the favor with some supper tonight? We could drive up to that new Italian joint in Mooseville!"

     "Well," Polly hesitated. I have to work until close tonight. I’m filling in for someone that called in sick today. I’ll be done around 7:00. Is that too late?"

     "No, not at all! I’ll come back just before close to help you wrap things up, then we can head North for some noodles. A ‘late-date’ will be fun! Does that sound alright to you?"

     "Sure! It will be nice to have the company and the help!" Polly replied. Taking a final sip she said, "Would you like to go upstairs now and get those maps and books?"

      Qwill followed Polly up the stairs and around the store as she selected various maps and books for him. His arms were nearly loaded down as they approached the counter. Polly took her place once again and began ringing him out.
 
     "Hey, I thought maybe you could buy these so I could get the employee discount!" he said as he pulled out his wallet and began to pay. "Wait, add this!" he said as he added a copy of the Daily Fluxion to the stack.

FIVE

      With feigned empathy, each cat ran up to him, sniffed, and ran yowling to the kitchen. It was suppertime and they could give no serious consideration to exercise nor diet. They cried out, putting on their starvation act, jumping and running, bumping into each other, hissing and then running back out to protest the delay in meal service.

      "Is food all you ever think about? What will you do if I keel over one day due to lack of exercise? Then who will prepare your meals? I would expect just a bit more sympathy and encouragement here!"
 
      Two empty Siamese tummies could muster no compassion, only demands on their meal maker. Koko jumped up on the couch, squeezing and pawing around the large bag of books almost tearing the bag open, as his female counterpart was snaking in and out of the man’s ankles, nudging and bumping. Both were audibly persistent, leaving their intentions to no one’s imagination. The message was clear, no catlike sixth sense need be transmitted. Feed me and feed me now was the clear communication. No dawdling would be tolerated.

     "Okay, okay!" Qwill said in a loud and annoyed tone. "You two act as if you haven't eaten in days. Cool it on the drama will you? Let’s see what we can rustle up for your supper in the kitchen."
 
      At the word 'kitchen,' the cats sprinted across the floor in a blur of motion. One moment the cats were seriously violating his personal space, and the next, they'd seemingly vanished into thin air in some time-space quantum shift. Cats were fast and he often thought that if time travel were possible, it would first start with cats. There were no other animals on Earth that he had ever come across that seemed to have the knack for bending the very physical laws of the universe as cats could. They were nature's acrobats. Forget Houdini. Forget all who could bend spoons with brain waves. Forget the masters of second sight. These amazing little puffs of fur could see through walls, leap tall refrigerators in a single bound, could charm the meanest and coldest hearted of individuals, could uncover falsities better than any polygraph, were better connected than any human informant, and could vanish into stealth mode at will. And yet, like countless other superheroes, were mild mannered and unassuming whenever they wanted to be. These creatures were at no man’s beck and command. They had their own agendas and would never be persuaded against their own will. One could neither lead a cat to water nor make him drink. A dog could be commanded. A cat commanded you. And from the noise he heard in the kitchen, the commands were clear.

     "Alright you characters. Stop throwing your temper tantrums and let’s find you something to eat."
 
      Opening a couple of cans of crabmeat and mixing in some olive oil, he heated up the cat’s supper on the stove. It smelled good to him, so he opened a third can and added it with a bit more oil so there would be enough for three. He grabbed a slice of wheat bread and popped it into the toaster. He emptied and refilled the cats water bowls and then divided up the meat, one third for each member of the family onto three clean plates, putting the toasted bread onto his own plate first before adding the heated crab and olive oil mixture. The cats went heads down and tails up as they enjoyed the gourmet meal, and Qwill took his food out to the dining table, turning on the radio for company. He justified having two suppers tonight, persuading himself that this was really only a light snack and his real supper would not be until later. He needed something to sustain him until then, and maybe this would give him the energy to do some exercising before his meeting with Polly. Maybe some fast power walking around the barnyard or a quick ride around town on his bike. He quickly ate his crab-on-toast concoction and rinsed off his plate in the sink. The cats were already done with their meals and were licking their plates, paws, and each other in somewhat inappropriate ways he thought. 
 
     Returning to the main living area and grabbing the big bag of books, he spread them out onto the large coffee table, sorted books then maps, and finally placed the newspaper on the couch next to himself. A volume of local history caught his eye and he began to thumb through it, only to be interrupted by Koko, who jumped up onto a pile of books only to jump down again and run away. Three seconds later the phone rang, and when Qwilleran got up and turned around to walk over and answer it, he discovered his cat sitting on the counter intently staring at the phone.
 
     "If the ringers ever stop working boy," he said to Koko, "I'll still know when I'm getting a call." Koko jumped down when he picked up the receiver.

      "Hello Bushy. Yes, I've agreed to do it. Sure, I think we need to. How about tomorrow night? 6 o’clock? Okay, I'll see you then!"
 
      Returning to the couch and coffee table, he found his male roommate sitting on the newspaper.
 
     "Okay Koko, I need a personal recommendation here. Which book do you think I should start with?”
 
      Reaching over to the stacks, he tapped the books and Koko immediately stood on his delicate yet strong feet and leapt over to the table. Walking on the piles, Koko sniffed this book, then that. He walked over to the stack of maps, and before Qwill could scold him for not picking out a book, the cat pivoted on his paws and in one fluid motion and turn, nuzzled a single book off the table and onto the floor. This was a game that Koko knew well, and Koko had always been brilliant at choosing books. Looking down, Qwill found that Koko had chosen a smaller field guide detailing the local tree population. 
 
      Looking at the cat he said, "Okay Koko. How would you like to take a little nature walk with me?" Before the cat had a chance to answer, he was scooped up and placed onto his master’s shoulders. Koko always seemed to enjoy this sort of ride, and often Qwill would take his charge out for a walk around the yard or out to check the mail in this fashion. It offered him a mobile high vantage point he otherwise didn't get. Squatting down so he wouldn't dislodge Koko, he picked up the tree guide book from the floor and headed outside.

     Stepping outside, all the while balancing an overly eager cat, the moustache’d man began his survey. Qwill loved the fall and marveled at the towering works of nature’s craft right outside his very own windows. Each tree was a work of art in its own right. From the differing bark textures with colors as varied as the skin tones of man, to the treetops filled with leaf collections of virtually unlimited size, shape and color he felt as if he were walking through a magnificent gallery, the likes of which would cause any  indoor collection of man to pale by comparison.  The bright light filtering through the trees caused mottled shades of color on the barnyard floor. This reminded him of the light coming through a stained glass church window and lent the air of a holy place, an almost sacred space of communion.  Walking across the drive and crossing into an open area Qwill started to make a count of the varieties along one side of his property.  Losing count at around 20 and having to deal with a squirmy rider the decision was made to consult the experts. 

       “Okay boy, let’s see what we have here”, Qwill said as he opened the field guide.

Here are two pictures of my very own REAL Koko & Yum Yum!

They are brother and sister! Siamese rescue cats. About 10 years old.

They love the cool concrete on the front porch!

Late afternoon tan anyone?