THE OREGON COAST, a Perfect Place for a Mystery

Posted on June 23, 2026 by Mollie Hunt, Cat Writer

Ghost Cat and the Haunted House, an Oregon Coast mystery

My Tenth Life Cozy Paranormal Mystery Series lives in Ocean Cove, a small, fictitious town on the Oregon Coast. Like Louise Penny’s Three Pines, it doesn’t show up on the maps. Who knows why? Maybe the google guys were at lunch when their drone was doing its mapping. And back in the days of paper maps, many smaller towns were disregarded as too tiny to be of interest. Still, it’s likely to be on the Metsker’s maps, since they mark every house and driveway. Take a short detour from the main Highway 101, and there it is, on the bluff above the cove itself. Ocean Cove isn’t hiding so much as being merely overlooked.

Oregon has a long coastline, 363 miles from the town of Astoria at the mouth of the Columbia River to the California border. The entire length has public access. I remember when I was a kid, my parents took my dad’s yearly vacation at a tiny wayside in Agate Beach. The place wasn’t a resort then, just a cluster of rustic cabins, all unique and a bit funky.

When I got older, a teenager with a car, my friends and I would drive from Portland to the beach, only a few hours away. We would stomp in the surf and shout at the stars, then drive back again with wet shoes and happy memories.

I took my son to the beach when he was little. We vacationed with my parents at Surftides in Oceanlake, one of the original five towns that later merged into what is now Lincoln City. Precious family time.

Highlights of the Oregon Coast are too numerous to list. Much has changed over the years as populations grew, but miraculously some of the original shops and tourist places remain. The Snug Harbour Bar and Grill in Taft has been operating since the 1930’s, as has the Bijou Theatre in Oceanlake. Unfortunately the Pixie Kitchen, a one-of-a-kind restaurant/experience, closed in the 1980’s, but much of the memorabilia is housed in the local historical museum.

We always loved going to Depot Bay, which amazingly hasn’t changed much in the last 50 years. Maybe because there isn’t much to change. A quarter mile of shops on either side of the bay with a walk where people can watch the waves crash on the rocky shore and sometimes get drenched in the process.

Depot Bay houses a saltwater taffy shop that has been in business for as long as I can remember. The delicacy is made with salt water, but not from the sea. The name originated from an entirely different source: a late 19th century legend about an Atlantic City shop that was drenched in a tidal flood. Saltwater taffy comes in many flavors like root beer float, apple pie, licorice swirl, and lavender. My favorite is butterscotch.

Newer to the area is the Chinook Winds Casino, gambling fun at its finest. Though not as glitzy as those you’d find in Reno and Las Vegas, the Chinook Winds has entertainment, a nice buffet, and enough gambling machines and tables to take all your money. The slogan is, “It’s better at the beach.”

Aside from fun shops and eateries, the Oregon Coast has features one might not expect amid the rolling beaches and rocky sidelines. One such place is the Oregon Dunes Recreational Area near Reedsport, 40 miles of coastal sand dunes bordering the ocean itself. Here are a few more reasons to visit.

The Yaquina Head Lighthouse in Newport Oregon

Lighthouses: There are 11 lighthouses on the coast, 9 of which are historic. Most of them are still active.

Haystack Rock in Cannon Beach: 235-foot sea stack with tide pools and seabird nesting sights.

Whale watching: Gray whales migrate up and down the coast twice a year. You don’t need to be on a boat to see them.

The Oregon Coast Aquarium and Research Center: Features over 15,000 marine animals and is dedicated to native Pacific wildlife, marine rehabilitation, and ocean conservation. Enjoyable and educational for the whole family.

Sea Lion Caves: A privately owned wildlife preserve and bird sanctuary (since 1932) centrally located on the beautiful and rugged Oregon Coast.

Myrtlewood trees: Oregon Myrtlewood is a rare, highly aromatic broadleaf evergreen native to Southwestern Oregon. Known for its stunning grain patterns, it’s used to craft beautiful artisanal woodworks. There is the Myrtle Tree Trail near Gold Beach.

 

The Tenth Life Cozy Paranormal Mystery Series

When septuagenarian Camelia Collins decides it’s time to fulfill her lifelong dream of living on the coast, her real estate agent comes up with a sweet older cottage right on the bluff of Ocean Cove. Camelia sells her big house in Portland and moves herself and her cat Blaze to their new home. Love Cottage, as it had been named by the original tenants, brought Camelia two surprises: A man had been murdered on her doorstep and the killer never found; the place was haunted by a ghost cat.

Ghost Cat and the Haunted House

Ghost cat Soji draws Camelia into an age-old web of secrets when a body turns up in the long-abandoned house on the hill.

 

Posted in My Cat Cozies, The Tenth Life Cozy Mysteries | Tagged , , , , , , , | 9 Comments

WORDLESS WEDNESDAY, NOTHING BUT CAT PICTURES

Posted on June 17, 2026 by Mollie Hunt, Cat Writer

Posted in Cats, photography | Tagged , , , , , , | 22 Comments

IT’S THE THIRD OF JUNE…

Posted on June 3, 2026 by Mollie Hunt, Cat Writer

It was the third of June, another sleepy, dusty Delta day. I was out choppin’ cotton and my brother was balin’ hay…

Bobbie Gentry 1969

Today is June third.

Every year, I post about the enigmatic ballad sung by Bobbie Gentry back in the sixties. It’s been more than 50 years since she produced the haunting song that had a whole generation wondering: What did Billy Joe Macallister really throw off the Tallahatchie Bridge? Half a century later, we still don’t know.

Though speculation ran from flowers to a baby, no one ever got Gentry to commit. In 1976, a film was made based on the song, it’s interpretation including a homosexual theme. Herman Raucher, the screenplay’s writer, asked  Bobbie Gentry about the song:

‘I said, ‘You don’t know why he jumped off the bridge?’ She said, “I have no idea.”‘

Gentry contradicts herself in an interview with the Associated Press in November 1967, where she ‘…called the song “a study in unconscious cruelty.” She also said that audiences were still asking her what was thrown off the bridge rather than noticing “the thoughtlessness of people expressed in the song,” adding that what had been thrown was unimportant. She said people suggested to her it was a draft card, or a bottle of LSD pills. The songwriter clarified that she knew what it was, but said she considered it irrelevant to the story and deliberately left that interpretation open. Gentry remarked that the song’s message revolved around the “nonchalant way” the family discussed the suicide. She also said that what was thrown off of the bridge was included because it established a relationship between Billie Joe and the daughter, providing “a possible motivation for his suicide the next day”. The interview ended with Gentry’s suggestion that it could have been a wedding ring. Gentry told The New York Times in 1969: “I had my own idea what it was while I was writing it, but it’s not that important. Actually it was something symbolic. But I’ve never told anyone what it was, not even my own dear mother.”‘ ~Wikipedia

What does it mean?

Even more intriguing is the meaning of the song itself. A handwritten page of Gentry’s original lyrics had been found. It began with a verse she never recorded and with the first line crossed out.

Sally Jane Ellison’s been missing since the first week in June. People don’t see Sally Jane in town any more. There’s a lot o’ speculatin’, she’s not actin’ like she did before. Some say she knows more than she’s willin’ to tell. But she stays quiet and a few think it’s just as well. No one really knows what went on up on Choctaw Ridge the day that Billy Jo McAllister jumped off the Tallahatchie Bridge. —University of Mississippi’s Archives and Special Collections

In the published lyrics, Sally Jane became the unnamed female narrator who was only present with Billy Joe throwing something off the bridge. What it means has more to do with the nature of the ballad than the story.

The story itself has many dramatic elements— Billy Joe’s apparent suicide and the bridge-tossing mystery— that its true meaning was lost on the youth of the mid-sixties, as it has been lost ever since.

It doesn’t matter what they threw off the bridge. More ominous than Billy Joe’s suicide, more menacing than the couple throwing something off the bridge, more heartbreaking than the lonely narrator picking flowers up on Choctaw Ridge is the blatant apathy of the family to the tragedies going on around them. The true theme of the song is indifference.

“The song is a first-person narrative that reveals a Southern Gothic tale in its verses by including the dialog of the narrator’s family at dinnertime on the day that “Billie Joe McAllister jumped off the Tallahatchie Bridge.” Throughout the song, the suicide and other tragedies are contrasted against the banality of everyday routine and polite conversation.” —Wikipedia  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ode_to_Billie_Joe

Was the song based on a true story?

It was the third of June, another sleepy, dusty Delta day
I was out choppin’ cotton, and my brother was balin’ hay
And at dinner time we stopped and walked back to the house to eat
And mama hollered out the back door, y’all, remember to wipe your feet
And then she said, I got some news this mornin’ from Choctaw Ridge
Today, Billy Joe MacAllister jumped off the Tallahatchie BridgeAnd papa said to mama, as he passed around the blackeyed peas
Well, Billy Joe never had a lick of sense; pass the biscuits, please
There’s five more acres in the lower forty I’ve got to plow
And mama said it was shame about Billy Joe, anyhow
Seems like nothin’ ever comes to no good up on Choctaw Ridge
And now Billy Joe MacAllister’s jumped off the Tallahatchie BridgeAnd brother said he recollected when he, and Tom, and Billie Joe
Put a frog down my back at the Carroll County picture show
And wasn’t I talkin’ to him after church last Sunday night?
I’ll have another piece-a apple pie; you know, it don’t seem right
I saw him at the sawmill yesterday on Choctaw Ridge
And now ya tell me Billie Joe’s jumped off the Tallahatchie BridgeAnd mama said to me, child, what’s happened to your appetite?
I’ve been cookin’ all morning, and you haven’t touched a single bite
That nice young preacher, Brother Taylor, dropped by today
Said he’d be pleased to have dinner on Sunday, oh, by the way
He said he saw a girl that looked a lot like you up on Choctaw Ridge
And she and Billy Joe was throwing somethin’ off the Tallahatchie BridgeA year has come and gone since we heard the news ’bout Billy Joe
And brother married Becky Thompson; they bought a store in Tupelo
There was a virus going ’round; papa caught it, and he died last spring
And now mama doesn’t seem to want to do much of anything
And me, I spend a lot of time pickin’ flowers up on Choctaw Ridge
And drop them into the muddy water off the Tallahatchie Bridge

Source: LyricFind

Songwriters: Bobbie Gentry

Ode to Billie Joe lyrics © Spirit Music Group

In this photograph from the November 10, 1967 issue of Life magazine, Bobbie Gentry strolls across the Tallahatchie Bridge in Money, Mississippi. The bridge collapsed in June 1972.

Did you know?

Gentry initially didn’t want to sing “Ode.” She had a demo of “Ode to Billie Joe” sent to Capitol Records in early 1967 to sell the song, not to sing it. She only sang on the demo because it was cheaper than hiring someone else, and had Lou Rawls in mind to record it. When Capitol asked Gentry to do both, she agreed – but only so long as performing didn’t get in the way of writing and composing.

Read more at: The Oxford Eagle: The secret life of Bobbie Gentry, pioneering artist behind ‘Ode to Billie Joe’

Posted in Death & Dying, Health, Wellness, Lifestyle, Life Through Amber | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 13 Comments

HAPPY 23, TYLER!

Posted on June 2, 2026 by Mollie Hunt, Cat Writer

We don’t know when he was born.

Tyler came to the Oregon Humane Society as a long-time stray. The docs there judged him to be 18 by his rotting teeth, which they promptly removed. When I adopted him and took him to my wonderful vet, she judged him to be more likely around the 14-year mark, so birth year 2003 is what we used from then on.

We adopted Tyler on June 1, 2017. Without any clue as to his real birth date, we chose his adoptiversary to celebrate. Finding a forever home is big!

Tyler’s shelter photo, 2017

That brings us to today, nine years later.

Extrapolation and guesswork make Tyler out to be age 23. He is in good health, still plays like a kitten when he feels like it, and trades sparkly balls, which he brings in his mouth, for treats or a seat on the couch beside us.

We love him dearly!

Cute tabby cat and roses

Tyler Today

Favorite Pastime: Sleeping in the sun.

Goofy Brother Melinko

It’s good being 23!

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GHOST CAT AND THE HAUNTED HOUSE, an Excerpt

Posted on May 31, 2026 by Mollie Hunt, Cat Writer

Ghost cat Soji draws Camelia into an age-old web of secrets when a body turns up in the long-abandoned house on the hill.

Decades ago, Ida Jacks died a tragic death in her old ancestral home. Since then, the place has stood empty, just another of Ocean Cove’s moldering landmarks. Now paranormal investigator Griffin Gage is about to change all that. But Gage’s plan is to contact dead Ida takes a tragic turn when, instead of a spirit, he finds a corpse.

Ghost cat Soji has been acting strange, trying to tell Camelia something, but what, the octogenarian cannot discern. Is it about Ida? The Jacks House? The murder? And why does her own cat Blaze keep disappearing to the guesthouse with no apparent means of transport?

Handsome Sheriff Jamie can’t figure it out, and neither can Camelia’s clairvoyant confidant Vera nor her very special friend Ellery. Camelia is on her own to uncover the killer, but can she solve the mysteries in time to save innocent lives, and maybe a ghost or two?

As you can tell from the blurb, Ghost Cat at the Haunted House has a big story with ghost cat Soji doing what she does best—confuse and mystify.

But wait, there’s more!

A prominent artist has a secret.

A billionaire is on a mission.

Vera has a vision, but Ellery is skeptical.

Cat teleportation—impossible, right?

Camelia considers adopting another cat.

But I am getting ahead of myself. Let’s start at the beginning.

GHOST CAT AND THE HAUNTED HOUSE

Chapter 1: The Ghost of Ida Jacks

The ghost cat twirled in the middle of the carpet. Around and around she went, not so much as a cat chasing her tail but a small, white tornado. Every so often she would slow to utter a single cryptic sentence: She is not what she seems. Then the whirling would begin again.

Camelia Collins watched the cat’s antics from her couch. When it started, she’d been concerned. She asked her little ghost cat companion what was wrong, what was bothering her but got no response. Soji was an enigma, an entity unto herself, and if she didn’t want to communicate in any other way than a macabre dance, there was nothing Camelia could do about it.

Still, the septuagenarian couldn’t quite manage to go about her usual business—not with a ghost cat whirling in her living room.

Camelia’s tuxedo cat Blaze also watched with fascination. A few times, he’d tried to catch that ghostly tail as it whipped past, but it was a doomed effort. Since Soji was in her noncorporeal form, he could no more touch her than touch a dream.

Camelia had grown accustomed to the odd behaviors of Soji, the cat spirit who unexpectedly accompanied her recent purchase of Love Cottage, but it had taken time. When she acquired the little coastal home with its name lettered in seashells on a driftwood plank out front, ‘ghost companion’ wasn’t mentioned in the contract. Even when she discovered the decades-old gravestone concealed at the back of her overgrown garden inscribed with the epitaph, Now Gone To Her Tenth Life, Beloved Soji, Camelia couldn’t have predicted it housed a very real, very feline spirit. That came later, as Soji began appearing to her, communicating with her. Camelia, who in her seventy years on the planet had seen, heard, and felt many things she couldn’t explain, was an accepting soul, and after some consideration, the presence of a ghost cat seemed to be just one more to add to the list.

Camelia was brought back from her musing by a claw piercing her thigh.

“Ouch, Blaze, dear.” She plucked the talon from her pant leg. “Please…”

Then she saw what had made the tuxie flinch. The ghost cat had stopped her twirling and stood as if frozen to the floor. Her ghost-white fur was raised, and her legs were spread. Her ears and whiskers lay flat against her head, and her red eyes flashed.

“She is not what she seems,” Soji repeated in that not-quite-real, not-quite-human voice of hers.

“Bewarrre, bewarrre!” she hissed through bared teeth. “Bewarrre the ghost of Ida Jacks—she is no ghost at all.”

Ghost Cat and the Haunted House will launch June 30th. Preorder the eBook now, and have it arrive in your inbox first thing that morning. Paperbacks may be available even sooner. Watch for more news soon.

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CLARENCE IS THREE!

Posted on May 19, 2026 by Mollie Hunt, Cat Writer

Clarence was born three years ago today!

I adopted kitten Clarence after fostering him. He was only five months old.

I couldn’t believe I’d adopted a kitten to join my other two cats, let alone one with a missing leg. How would it work? Would his amputation be a problem in my big, two-story house? Would the cats get along? Will I live long enough to see this through? But I didn’t worry about any of those things when I made my decision. I knew deep down he was meant to be mine and I was his.

Clarence, December 2023

You don’t see them grow when you’re with them all the time, but this photo of his first days with me tells the story. His back end was still shaved, the stitches showing prominently. His kitten look, small face, and wayward fur would change over time.  The paws too big for his body, he would grow into soon enough.

Clarence, May 2024, One Year Old

The first thing Clarence grew was his fur. Underneath, he was filling out, but that fur covered everything.

Clarence, January 2025

By January the next year, he was looking more like an adult cat, though he still played like a kitten. You might not guess by his stately stance here, but everything was his toy, including Melinko’s tail!

Clarence, Second Birthday

Clarence enjoyed his second birthday with a round of napping and flower-sniffing. His face has grown fluffier, his muscles stronger, and his belly, under all that fur, rounder.

Clarence, May 2026

Here is the birthday boy today! Three years old, and he still looks tiny when he’s sleeping! I think to me he will always be that little kitten needing big love.

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WRITING TEACHES WRITING

Posted on May 16, 2026 by Mollie Hunt, Cat Writer

I didn’t know how to spell “sheriff” when I began writing my first mystery.

After all, it wasn’t a word that came up in my job as a medical records scanner. I made other spelling and grammar mistakes as well. Lie verses lay; a while vs. awhile; a lot, not alot. I’d had a reasonably good education, but that was a long time ago. Still, at forty when I discovered my love of writing, I wasn’t going to let a few little mistakes stop me. Once I found that I loved the process of putting stories down on paper, there was no way I was going to quit.

My mother was my first editor, painstakingly reading the dot-matrix printouts of my first manuscripts. She made notes in the margins with a red pen. To this day (another thirty years after) I can still see her handwriting where she pointed out corrections on the page.

And guess what—I learned! I learned more than spelling and grammar: I learned how to write.

I was asked recently by a would-be author how to begin her story. The answer that sprung instantly to mind was, write. Put words on paper—don’t worry about making them good. In time, you will find your voice.

Award-winning sci-fi author David Gerrold said in one of his master classes, “The first million words are practice.” That’s a lot of words, but when you love doing it, the time passes and suddenly you’re there. If you look back at your first manuscripts and compare them to your newest, you will see the difference. In those first trial-and-error stories, the plot may have been good, but chances are, the writing was not. You may have emulated other writers or books you enjoyed. Imitation is one facet of learning. But somewhere between then and now, you grew, you found your own voice, and you learned.

Learning never stops. Our “voice” continues to mature. Our technique on the page becomes more precise.

So for someone who wants to tell their story but has no clue how to go about it, here are my suggestions:

Write: All the time, anywhere, about anything. A journal, a blog, a poem, an essay. Do it again and again until it feels comfortable. Go big—jump into a novel. Outline it or fly by the seat of your imagination, but don’t quit. See it through. Read it, revise it. Let it teach you.

Read: Read everything. Books that appeal; books that are beyond your comfort zone. Magazines, posts, the advertising on the bus. Notice how the words fit together.

Do you like it?

Why do you like it?

What detail makes it likeable to you?

Pick out the author’s voice, that illusive way of writing unique to that person. Listen and learn.

Enjoy: Don’t worry that your first (second, or tenth) try does not produce the Great American Novel. Don’t worry if the Big 5 publishers don’t jump to pick it up. Don’t worry if your kids think you’re crazy for spending so much time holed up by yourself writing. In fact, don’t worry at all. If writing is your thing, the process will both thrill and distress you. If writing is not your thing, you will be bored to tears, and I suggest you try some other expression of creativity, such as painting, photography, mandala coloring. The only limits to creativity are those we put on ourselves.

One last note. Everyone has a story; whether we choose to share it is up to us individually. What story would you tell, and what medium would you choose to tell it?

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Not All Mothers Have Human Babies

Posted on May 8, 2026 by Mollie Hunt, Cat Writer

Happy Mother’s Day, no matter who your babies are.

According to the media, Mother’s Day is a time to buy, buy, buy! Though meant to celebrate mothers, it too often leaves us feeling left out or disappointed. When we don’t receive those floral bouquets, brunches at expensive restaurants, and other gifts, we ask ourselves what we did wrong. Why doesn’t our family extol us like the families on TV? Spoiler: It’s not us—it’s them, the advertisers, playing on our heartstrings to sell their products.

Mother’s Day can be a difficult time for other reasons as well. For those of us who have lost a mother, who have lost a child, who are not able to have children, or who chose not to populate an already-overpopulated world, the day can be melancholy.

How ever you celebrate—or don’t celebrate Mother’s Day, this video is sure to charm you. Make sure you watch to the end.

Thank you again this year, Furball Fables! 

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GHOST CAT LAUNCH DATE AND PREORDER

Posted on May 4, 2026 by Mollie Hunt, Cat Writer

Preorder link is live!

Or should that be undead since it’s all about a ghost cat?

Either way, the next installment of the Tenth Life Paranormal Cozy Mystery Series has a launch date and a preorder link for the ebook! (Sorry, paperback fans, Amazon still has’t found a way to prefill your orders on the day of the launch the way it does ebooks.)

Ghost Cat and the Haunted House (A Tenth Life Cozy Mystery Book 4) 

Ghost cat Soji draws Camelia into an age-old web of secrets when a body turns up in the long-abandoned house on the hill.

Decades ago, Ida Jacks died a tragic death in her old ancestral home. Since then, the place has stood empty, just another of Ocean Cove’s moldering landmarks. Now paranormal investigator Griffin Gage is about to change all that. But Gage’s plan is to contact dead Ida takes a tragic turn when, instead of a spirit, he finds a corpse.
Ghost cat Soji has been acting strange, trying to tell Camelia something, but what, the octogenarian cannot discern. Is it about Ida? The Jacks House? The murder? And why does her own cat Blaze keep disappearing to the guesthouse with no apparent means of transport?
Handsome Sheriff Jamie can’t figure it out, and neither can Camelia’s clairvoyant confidant Vera nor her very special friend Ellery. Camelia is on her own to uncover the killer, but can she solve the mysteries in time to save innocent lives, and maybe a ghost or two?

Launching June 30th. Preorder here.

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APRIL 30TH, NATIONAL THERAPY ANIMAL DAY

Posted on April 30, 2026 by Mollie Hunt, Cat Writer

Celebrate Therapy Animals, today and every day!

Tinkerbelle, Registered Pet Partners Therapy Cat 2012-2016

When I adopted the 10-year-old Tinkerbelle from OHS in 2012, I knew she was special, but just how special I could never have guessed. She proved to be that one-in-100 cat who could pass the intense riggers of being a therapy cat. For the four years she and I visited assisted living facilities and hospice patients, bringing a little furry love to those who would not otherwise have access to a cat. She was a hit on Facebook, with nearly 1900 friends from around the world. And if that wasn’t enough, she held my heart in her tiny paws.

Thinking back, I decided to take this special day to remember some of the encounters Tink and I had together.

The man who had never petted a cat

Art had never petted a cat before. It was hard for me to believe. To not have had a family cat is one thing, but to have never in what looked to be a very long life touched a feline seemed impossible.

Yet it was true. Art had grown up in rural Germany, where cats were barn animals and extremely feral. Bashful and smiling, the nonagenarian needed instructions… “You place your hand on her head, just so. Smooth down the back gently, so.” He did it, remarking how soft she was, how beautiful.

As Art told me of his childhood far away and long ago, he continued to pet Tinkerbelle. He was a natural.

The Centenarian 

For a few months, we visited a hundred-year-old woman. She had just got her first tattoo, the “bluebird of happiness”, in celebration. Though she tired easily, her mind was quick and she loved all animals and especially Tink.

Endings (and Beginnings?)

Tinkerbelle and I had the great privilege to be at the bedside of a patient as he passed. We had been visiting the military veteran for a few months as he told stories of his fascinating life and made me promise to go to Crater Lake, where I had never been. He asked that Tinkerbelle be with him at the last. In his transitional coma, did he sense her presence? I believe he did.

A Nature Lover

 Sarah grew her own tomatoes; liver cancer wasn’t going to get her down! And when she could no longer get around, she got a caregiver to hang them outside her window where they cascaded with red and yellow fruit. Sarah loved all of nature and loved her visits with Tinkerbelle.

~ Tinkerbelle ~

 Everyone has a cat story. Though Tinkerbelle and I were a team, all I had to do to get things rolling was place Tinkerbelle on bed or lap and ask, “Did you have a cat?” No matter how sick, how far gone with disease or dementia, the elderly face softened, the eyes lit, and for a few moments, the patient was back with her own furry friend. Whether a barn cat or a pedigreed Siamese, that first cat of childhood will be remembered forever.

 

Did you know

There are very few registered therapy cats compared to dogs? If you think your cat might be a good candidate, I encourage you to check into one of the programs near you. I guarantee your life will be changed, as mine was.

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