I'm very excited today to introduce you to a lovely author, Elysa Hendricks and her sweet fur baby. Elysa is sharing a short story she wrote about meeting Kyle.
HOME FOR CHRISTMAS
Christmas Eve my life changed.
The day started out about the same as the rest of the days during the last month.
Harsh fluorescent lights sputtered reluctantly to life; revealing stark cinder block walls, bare cement floors and steel bars. Plaintive cries echoed down long, empty halls. The acrid smell of urine mingled unpleasantly with the strong odor of pine disinfectant. My bones protested as I stretched out the kinks caused by sleeping on the hard metal ledge provided in place of a proper bed.
As far as prisons go, this one wasn't as bad as some and it was better than most: warm and dry, with three square, if bland meals a day. After spending most of the month of December on the streets of Chicago, my toes a mere half-degree away from frostbite, I almost jumped into the officer's wagon.
Almost. Life on the inside can be iffy. Two others, who came in with me that day hadn't been seen since.
Shortly after lunch, the cellblock door opened. I heard a brief snatch of the song I’ll Be Home For Christmas before the door clanged shut again. It had been a long time since I’d had a home, for Christmas or otherwise. Two strangers, a middle-aged woman and a teen-aged boy, walked into the room. In every cell the inmates sat up. They crowded against the bars, each crying his own sad song. One by one, the people checked them out.
Then they were there. Right in front of me.
This was my chance. Eagerly I arched my back and pressed my nose through the bars. I set my motor going. My whole body thrummed with the effort to be heard above the others, to be noticed. Excitement locked my vocal cords. All that came out was a strangled squeak.
"How 'bout this one?" the woman asked.
The boy peered at me. "He's kind of skinny," he said.
I held my breath. The cell door swung open. His hands gripped me behind my front legs and pulled me against his chest. "You want to come home with me, Kitty?" he asked.
Before he could change his mind I wrapped my paws around his neck and licked his chin. He grinned and nodded at the woman.
I was going home for Christmas.
Thank you Elysa. I wish all people would consider adopting a homeless cat and bringing more love into their life. Elysa's book looks like a heartfelt romance
Book Description:
Race Reed doesn’t want a wife, but to save his ranch he needs a baby. To gain custody of her stepsister, Claire Jensen needs a husband, but she wants love. Wants and needs are bound to clash when they run The Baby Race.
I hope you'll check it out and give it a try:
You should also visit Elysa at her website: http://www.elysahendricks.com
8 comments:
What a beautiful story that kitty has to tell. It was nice meeting this author, and I like her style of writing. Thanks for the introduction.
Patricia,
Thank you so much for having me here and letting Kyle tell his story. Right now he's sitting in my lap purring, so I know he's grateful as well. He's nearly 19, so I treasure every day with him.
Elysa
Even a kitty needs a home for Christmas. Missing my kitty today.
What a wonderful story. How old was your kitty when you got him?
Linda,
We're not sure exactly how old Kyle was when he chose us, but the vet figured he was somewhere between 2 and 5. Kyle has been with us now for 17 years, so we figure he's at least 19, maybe older.
Elysa
Well, Happy Birthday and Happy Homecoming, Kyle! You look very much like my wonderful Mr. Cletis O'Roarkey, who's no longer with us.
Enjoy your warm, safe, happy home for all the rest of your days, guy.
What a sweet story about your adoption of Kyle!
Thank you for sharing Kyle's story with us.
For some reason we lost your blog from our reader, but you're back in it now!!
The Florida Furkids and Angel Sniffie
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