Celebrate cats, and the people who love them, in all their varied splendour: their independence, their mystique, their playfulness and, yes, even their disdain. Smile at their many ?cattitudes? and feed your feline passion with wonderful stories, such as a heroic tabby saving the family he loves from a lethal gas leak, and a three-legged kitten befriending a lonely young girl, transforming her world. From playful and hilarious accounts of life with cats to heart-warming tales of cat courage, healing and learning, each touching story rejoices in the special bond we share with our feline friends.
415pp, 134mm x 214mm, softback, 2008

Extracts

Ringo, the Hero Cat.
We adopted our red tabby Manx, Ringo, from a litter of kittens found in a shed outside my mother's nursing home. His mother, who had half a tail, was feral. We fell in love with Ringo when he was only ten days old. He had brilliant red fur, a tiny stump of a tail, bright-blue eyes and a high-pitched, squeaky mew. How could we resist? At the time, we already had three cats and had made up our minds not to get another.

Had we stuck to or promise, we would not be alive today.

Ringo was special from the beginning. He had a wonderful personality and loved nearly everyone who came to visit. An expressive cat, he could move his little bunny puff of a tail in any direction he wanted, depending on how he felt. That red pom-pom tail could speak a thousand words. He was a delight to live with - and, as we were about to discover, a hero, to boot.

Throughout the late spring and summer pf 1995, my husband Ray and I developed troubling symptoms, including dizzyness, headaches, high blood pressure and oversleeping. Ray was recovering from heart surgery, and I was laid up with a cast on my leg. Naturally, we thought these symptoms were part of our illnesses. We were wrong.

One hot August afternoon, we had the air conditioning going full blast, and the doors and windows shut tight. Ringo, who was inside with us, started slamming his body against the front door of our house and wouldn't stop. In addition, he meowed loudly, over and over. I had never seen him act this way before. Finally, I hobbled over and let him out.

Once outside, he continued his loud meowing, acting as though he wanted to come back in. Again, I had never seen him act this way. His unusual behaviour let me know that I was to follow him. I thought he was going to take me to one of his favourite spots; instead, he led me to the south side of our house, a place on our property that we don't visit too often. Only our air conditioner and gas and water meters are there, hidden behind large bushes. Ringo began to dig in the jagged lava-rock landscaping, about three feet in front of the gas meter. Normally, a cat wouldn't dig among these sharp stones as the edges could easily hurt a paw. Then he lifted his head, opened his mouth and wrinkled his nose to let me know that something smelled awful. When I leaned down next to Ringo, the smell of natural gas nearly bowled me over.

I called the gas company immediately. They sent out an emergency crew, who told us that we were at explosive levels around our foundation. A pilot light or a spark outdoors was all that stood between us and oblivion. In addition, the gas had permeated the walls of our home and traveled up into our bedroom. Our doctor said that if we escaped being killed by a deadly explosion, we would still have succumbed to methane poisoning.

When the plumbers came, they found the leak about three feet in front of the gas meter - right where Ringo had dug. An old steel coupler had split open, and the crack was growing larger as a result of rust and corrosion. Ringo had smelled the escaping gas four feet beneath our landscaping. He led us to the gas leak that we couldn't smell - and the meter didn't register. What a nose for trouble!

After we aired out the house, our health improved rapidly. For his outstanding heroism, Ringo received the American Humane Association's Stillman Award. Only ten cats in nearly a hundred years have received this honour. While many pets have saved their families by insisting that they leave a hazardous situation - saving the pet's own life in the process - it is highly unusual fo any animal to lead his family outdoors to alert them to the source of a lethal problem. Ringo, our guardian angel, is gone now, but his extraordinary love and heroic actions will remain with us always.

Beautiful Music
Everything a cat is and does physically is to me beautiful, lovely, stimulating, soothing, attractive and an enchantment. Paul Gallico

I fell in love with Ricky's mother first. Topanga was a calico Devon Rex - an unusual-looking athletic breed of cat with large ears, enormous eyes and a distinctive single coat of wavy, chenille-like fur.

Thump! The calico beauty landed on my shoulder and began to purr into my ear.

I looked at her. Topanga looked at me. The purring got louder. It was the most beautiful cat music I'd ever heard, and I fell head over heels.

'If this cat ever has kittens, let me know,' I told Leslie, the breeder.

'Steve,' Leslie said with a grin, 'she's pregnant.'

As a professional pet journalist, I like all animals. At that time, my wife Robin and I shared our Chicago condo with two dogs, Chaser and Lucy, and although I'd been around hundreds or maybe thousands of cats through my work, I was currently cat-less. I couldn't resist the thought of one of Topanga's kittens.

From the beginning, our white kitten Ricky charmed friend and stranger alike. Lucy and Chaser had always gone places with me, and Ricky was no different. Ricky soon had fans everywhere: the vet's office, the pet store, the bank, the dry cleaner, even the radio station where I worked. His endearing gremlin look and sparse, baby-fine fur - Rex kittens often look like candidates for Rogaine - never failed to draw a curious, friendly crowd, and, consequently, the little guy learned from day one that people loved him. I was his biggest fan of all.

My Ricky-admiration bumped up another level, though, when he turned eight or nine months old. Our dog Lucy did animal-assisted therapy, and I purchased a toy piano for her, thinking people would get a kick out of her plinking on the keys. To begin her training, I thought it best to close ourselves in my study to avoid distractions. Within three or four minutes of Lucy's first clicker-training piano lesson, Ricky managed to open the door. He walked across the room and performed a perfect sit right next to Lucy, right in front of me. He couldn't have said it any clearer: 'I want in on this, too.'

By the end of three training sessions, Ricky hit the piano keys. Within ten days, Ricky was playing Chopin - okay, I'm being generous, but he did compose unique, individual compositions, which I refer to as modern jazz. If I doubted it before, Ricky made it clear he was one cool cat.

At first, I was just having a good time. I taught Ricky how to come when called and to jump through or over objects - hula-hoops, prone kids, even strange dogs doing a 'down/stay.' He'd give a high five - well, four - if you asked him.

I'm not sure when I realized we were breaking barriers. You aren't supposed to be able to train cats. Suddenly, Ricky was the teacher, showing by example that a cat can be so much more than a snoring feline lump on the sofa. Ricky's appearance on local and national television - or on the front steps of our condo porch - playing original piano compositions touched people in ways I never thought possible.

At one outdoor concert, a ten-year-old boy with Down syndrome walked by. He was enthralled by the piano playing feline. He stared at Ricky for several minutes, then spontaneously began to laugh. We're not talking little giggles here; I mean full-blown belly laughter.

His mother was stunned. She told me quietly, 'Billy's father passed on two weeks ago. Everyone tried to get him to talk, to react, but he wouldn't.'

Billy, who was still in stitches, began to pet Ricky. Then Billy sat down and snuggled with Ricky, now purring in his lap. I don't know what secrets Billy shared, but he whispered to Ricky for several minutes. Just before he and his mom departed, Billy looked at Ricky and said, 'I love you,' then he kissed Ricky. Ricky just had this extraordinary ability to reach people.

From Chicken Soup for the Cat Lover's Soul, ?2008 by Jack Canfield et al, published by Ebury.