Bob's Book Club

"Oliver, now that you have begun your career as a, um...er.....writer," remarked Bob, "perhaps it is time for you to begin thinking about your reading habits.  After all, all good writers are prolific readers."

"What's that? Yeah, sure, whatever you say, Bob." I replied.  My brain was still trying to figure out why Bob had coughed out the word writer, almost like he didn't believe it to be true of me.

"Oliver, pay attention," instructed Bob.  "I'm issuing you an invite to my book club.We meet regularly to discuss great works of literary art. If you're serious about being a writer than you should be serious about joining this book club.  After all, there is no better way to acquire great writing skills than by discussing the writing style of successful,  famous, published writers.  Don't you agree?"

"I guess so." I replied.  I wasn't really paying attention to what Bob was saying.  I was more concerned with whether or not there would be snacks at a book club. I might not mind sitting around with Bob's stuffy friends if food is being served.

"Oliver, are you thinking about food again?" Bob demanded to know.  "I see that dazed look in your eyes and you're starting to drool!" Drat!  He was on to me.  "Oliver, pay attention.  Our next meeting is this Friday at my place.  We're discussing the book Prince Caspian by the highly esteemed C.S. Lewis.  You only have four days to finish the book.  I'll see you then."  With that final comment, Bob leaped through the pet door that led back to his own apartment.  I remained out on my deck wondering how in the world I could ever finish a chapter book in time to take part in the book club meeting.  I'm not a very fast reader.  Then I remembered that the boys and girls in Miss R.'s class had learned about summarizing which is word that means saying a little about a lot.  And, they also just finished reading Prince Caspian. There are a lot of words in Prince Caspian but if you summarize, or say a little about the most important events in the story than maybe I can be prepared for Friday's meeting.  Can you help?

Young Authors Day

"It was a dark and a stormy night."

Now I  know what you're thinking but no fair copying, boys and girls.  That is the opening line to the literary masterpiece I plan to write for Young Authors Day or YAD as it is commonly known .  Of course, felines have been historically barred from participating in YAD festivities for reasons that make no sense to me.  Apparently, the fun of writing and celebrating stories is restricted to students only.  That is why my next literary masterpiece will be a brilliantly persuasive letter to the powers that be informing them of my discontent.  I mean, really!  Aren't I a student as well?  Just because I am not enrolled in school doesn't mean I'm not learning.  In fact, just this weekend I learned an exceptionally valuable lesson.  I learned that Miss R really doesn't like being woken up at 3AM to fill my dish with my favorite kitty treats.

 I digress.  Back to Young Authors Day.  I'm curious, boys and girls.  What story ideas have been percolating in your non-furry brains?  Are you writing fiction or non fiction?  Where are you in the writing process?  Are you still working on your story maps or are you writing your first draft?  I can't wait to hear from you all!

Happy Valentine's Day

This poem is by one of Bob's favorite writers, Anonymous, but it perfectly expresses my affection for the boys and girls in Room 204. All my love, Oliver!

Oliver's Place

A great artist by the name RM #11 has created this rendition of the building where I reside.  As you can see, RM #11 also drew in the homes of my neighbors. That's Bob next door to me.  He calls himself an intellect which is a fancy way of saying he's smart.  His human is a professor at an university and often brings home textbooks that Bob loves to read.  He also loves to share his knowledge with the rest of us. Bob has an adopted sibling named Miss Darcy Kitty.  That's her sky diving off the side of the building. She is a brave adventurer, as you can see, who often strolls the trails in the park nearby when she's not sky diving.  Hanging around Bob, she has learned to love books, but she prefers adventure stories to textbooks.  A good book will often inspire her to seek her fortune.  Last week she found her fortune in the form of a half-eaten burger in the garbage can behind Kidd Valley. She was generous enough to share her fortune with me. Othello lives in the apartment directly above me.  He's a feline Shakespearean actor who has a funny way of talking.  Bob tells me that Othello speaks in iambic pentameter and I have no idea what that means, but apparently it's a Shakespearean actor kind of thing.  Next to Othello, lives Vinnie.  Vinnie is old and lost a leg to diabetes many years ago.  He keeps a garden on his deck where he grows vegetables to help him stay healthy.  Whereas Bob is book smart, Vinnie is what I like to call life smart.  When I told him that, he just smiled his gap-toothed smile and said, "That's because I've learned from my mistakes.  And when you make as many mistakes as I do.....you learn a lot!"  And now, thanks to RM#11, all my regular readers can have a picture of where my buddies and I live. Thank you, RM#11!

Boys and girls, can you tell me something about the place where you live?  Is it a house or an apartment?  Do you know your neighbors?  Without using their names can you tell me what makes them unique?  I'd love to learn more about you.

Vinnie

"Hey, Vinnie, what'cha ya doin'?" I called to my three-legged neighbor. Vinnie appeared to be scratching around in a small, rectangular box of litter, but what strange litter.  Usually litter is light grey.  The stuff he was digging was a dark, blackish-brown.  Clearly not litter.

"I'm sorry, Oliver, what was that?  These old ears aren't what they used to be." Vinnie smiled up at me with that semi-toothless grin of his.  I love Vinnie's gap-filled smiles.  They always warm my heart.

"I asked what you were doing."

"I'm tending to my vegetable garden, young man." replied Vinnie with what seemed like a small amount of modest pride.  "Yessirree, nothing beats fresh vegetables harvested from your own deck garden."

Before I could stop myself the word, "Eeeuuuuwww" escaped my lips.  "Sorry, I don't mean to be rude.  I just don't like vegetables." I explained.

"Quite all right. I understand.  I used to hate 'em myself.  That was back in the day before diabetes claimed my leg."

"Dia...what...ese?"  I asked.

"Diabetes.  It's a disease that we felines are susceptible to.  It comes from eating too much unhealthy food and not enough veggies.  By the time my vet discovered the disease it had already progressed to the point where I needed to have my leg amputated." He patted the stump that served as his leg. "Yessirreee, this here ol' stump is my battle wound in my fight against the disease, but I've come out the winner.  I changed my unhealthy eating and have started growing my own healthy food."  He looked at me again and I could see his old eyes twinkling. 

"I don't see any vegetables." I said.

"Well, no, not yet.  They take time to grow.  Right now, I'm just tending to the soil." He motioned to the blackish-brown stuff and I recognized it then as the stuff Miss R.'s plants grow in.

"Soil.  I know a little bit about soil.  Miss R's students are studying soil right now at school.  I bet they might even have information that would help your garden grow."  I was pleased to think that I might be able to help Ol' Cat Vinnie.  He's just a cool guy.

"Oliver, that would be marvelous. I sure would appreciate it," Vinnie said and he grinned that old gap-toothed smile of his. 

So, boys and girls, I need your help.  What can you tell me about soil?  How does soil help plants grow?  Do you have any information that would help Vinnie?

Something is rotten in the state of Denmark

What a coincidence that the boys and girls in Room 204 happen to be studying soil on the same day that I visited my new neighbor, Othello.  Why is that a coincidence, you ask? Well, it just so happens that Othello was preparing for a new role in an upcoming feline production of Shakespeare's "As You Like It."  Apparently, his preparation called for tearing into and rolling around in his human's 20 pound sack of garden soil. When I asked him what garden soil had to do with acting, Othello just rolled his eyes and replied, "Lord, what fools these mortals be." Bob later told me that's a line from another one of Shakespeare's plays. Anyway, Othello's human was clearly not impressed with that particular exercise in acting because she rewarded the little guy with a bath. I don't think the post-bath scowl and the attitude that you see photographed here had anything to do with role preparation. I hoped the catnip cookies I baked would cheer up the little guy, but when he smelled the cookies he just rolled his eyes again and said, "Oft expectation fails, and most oft here."  At first, I thought that might be a compliment to my cookies, but Bob suggested otherwise. I think maybe Othello just needs to learn to avoid activities that require tub time.  Maybe you boys and girls in Room 204 could summarize what you know about soil and then I can show Othello why it's not a good thing to prepare for acting roles by rolling around in dirt.

MLK

Monday morning dawned wet and cold, the kind of day where I prefer to stay in bed and sleep in.  You can imagine my irritation then when a deep, booming voice resounded from outdoors, reverberating throughout my apartment.  Irritation gave way to awe and wonderment as I heard the beautiful words, "I have a dream...."  The poetry of the words and the tone of the voice wrapped themselves around me.  "I have a dream," the voice repeated.  I love hearing about people's dreams so I jumped through the pet door and launched myself onto my deck where I could hear better.  I could see my neighbor Bob sitting at attention on his deck next to mine.  "Hey Bob," I whispered.  "What's going on?  Who is that?"

"Shhhh," whispered Bob.  "That's the new guy in C403.  His name is Othello.  He's one of the few successful feline Shakespearean actors. Today he is honoring the late Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. by reciting the leader's best known speech.."

"Huh?" I said.  What I meant was who ever heard of a famous feline Shakespeaerean actor?

"Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr." Bob repeated.  "He was a leader in the area of civil rights."

"Civil rights? What does that mean?" I asked outloud but my brain was still trying to figue out what a feline Shakespearean actor was.

"Shhhh, Oliver." Bob sighed.  I could tell he was getting annoyed, but seriously a feline Shakespearean actor? "Just listen, Oliver.  It'll make more sense if you just listen."

So I curled up on deck table and listened as the new cat, Othello, continued reciting the words that first moved a nation so many decades ago.  "I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: 'We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal.' "  I continued to listen as the words washed over me making me feel a strange sense of hopefulness and peace.  I wish I had known this leader of civil rights.


I'm curious, kids, what can you tell me about Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.? I'd like to know more about the man that penned those words.  And what are your dreams?  I'd like to know what human kittens dream about. In the meantime, I'm going to bake some catnip cookies to bring to the new cat, Othello.  I've got to see this feline Shakespearean actor with my own eyes.  Who knew?



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