Charlaine Harris Tells Her Side of the Story

charlaineMy name is Charlaine Harris, and I’m stuck in a room in a bookstore. It all started a few weeks ago, when my human dad came over crying, picked me up, said he’d always love me, and then drove me in his arms to this place. And left me here.

The people in the bookstore took me into a back room, showed me some food and water, a litter box, and a little basket of toys. (I selected a catnip mouse.) And then they went off and left me in there! I found a chair in the sun and took a long nap. It was kind of a hard day.

The next day, my sister from Dad’s place came. She wasn’t feeling well so they set her up in a little tent by herself. We could see and talk to each other, but she had her food and litterbox, and I had mine. And she pretty much slept for four days. (She’s feeling better now, thanks, but they say she’s got some special needs so she might not get adopted with me, unless a family is willing to have us both.)

That’s what the couple here say will happen next, that I’m gonna get adopted. They said just the right person is gonna come along, and I’m gonna go live with him or her. I said, what happened to Dad? And they looked kinda sad and said he had to move into a different place to live because of some difficult circumstances. What’s that mean, difficult circumstances? Like the time I got stuck behind the toilet and they had to take the lid off to get me out? Yeah, that was kinda hard. My foot hurt for days….

Anyway, I have to stay in this room now because the couple who took me in opened the door once, and GEEZ O PETE there were like FOUR cats out there. And they all came to the door and looked at me, and well, you hafta remember I used to live just with one guy and a sister cat, so they seemed kinda intimidating to me. One of them stepped forward, so I did what I thought was best. Attacked her.

Well geez you’d a thought I’d thrown lit dynamite into a pond full of fish. (Not that I wouldn’t if I got the chance. I LOVE fish!) Turns out that scrawny little kitten I attacked is like the golden girl of the place, some chick named Hadley who has a few screws loose. She couldn’t even defend herself, and geez o pete, all I did was bap her around a couple times. Honest. But the couple got all soberfaced and said I’d have to be “supervised” with the other cats, and I guess I kinda understand they want me to like ’em, or at least ignore ’em, but geez o pete, I’m eight years old and I’ve spent my whole life keeping other cats outta my yard, so it’s really hard to remember not to get my retaliation in first, y’know? I’m not violent or anything; I’m just set in my ways.

The lady from the couple came in and had a talk with me and she said she understood, but she thought it best that I stay in my own room until they could either find someone who wanted a (and she said this with a straight face) SENIOR cat – Thank you very much lady! – or until they could get me a private room at PetSense. Apparently that’s like a little apartment complex for cats where people come and look at them and see if they want to take them home.

So I’m biding my time, and I’m trying to not mind too much being in this back room. People come in and see me a lot and they all scratch me behind the ears and the couple are very regular with meals and checking my water and giving me friendly back rubs and such. So it’s not terrible, but geez, I’m a little bit bored, y’know? Doesn’t anybody out there want a cat who talks a lot and doesn’t want to live with other cats? (Dogs are fine. I don’t mind them.) Maybe you could come tell this nice couple that you’ll take me? I’m no bother – just feed me, give me someplace to lie in the sun, and hold a conversation with me once in a while. Not much to ask, is it? C’mon, come visit me and let’s see how we get on together. This bookstore ain’t my scene, y’know?

Barn Raising, Bookshop Sitting, Oddball Friends, and All!

Jack’s weekly guest blog has a familiar musical refrain…..

i_get_by_with_a_little_help_from_my_friendsFriends and Neighbors –

We come from a region of the mountains known for its community spirit; think barn raising. And we have occasion to know that barn raisings are not dead, just mutated into other ways of helping each other. Our friend Witold, three blocks away, called Jack when he wanted to take down a tree. Elizabeth brought the baby goats over to be goatsitted for a weekend (and regular blog readers will remember the fun that produced).

Back when we started the bookstore we relied on our local oddball friends and champions to ‘mind the store’ on the odd times we had to be away. But that was usually only for a day or maybe two at any time.

That was also before ‘the Little Bookstore’ was published and turned our lives upside down. Almost immediately we had to find someone to look after the place for a month, and so the great ‘bookstore-sitter’ project began. To our great surprise it went viral – all over the internet as well as National newspapers, magazines and NPR. The wonderful Andrew Whalen was chosen out of nearly 200 applicants and was feted and fed by the aforementioned oddball friends and champions.

Since then we have continued to have occasions of being away for extended period, and continued numbers of equally wonderful and interesting folk staying in our guest room. They fall in love with our animals, our oddball friends and our town of Big Stone Gap. We look forward to Lisa Heins Vincent and her husband minding shop for a week in late April, and dissertation-writing Emily visiting this summer.

The trouble is that, amidst publicity and hoopla and longer visits from our much -appreciated longer shopsitters, the oddball friends and champions who live in town and give us a day here, a day there, tend to get overshadowed in their contribution to how this place runs.

Just yesterday our friend James spent a day looking after the bookstore, fielding phone calls, cash sales, credit card sales, book swaps for credit, inquiries about the cafe menu, etc., etc. In return he got lunch and the right to take any books he wanted off the shelf and go home with them. As I said to him “James – you know there’s no such thing as a – – – -”

So my day-late guest blog post this week (I couldn’t ask James to do that too) finishes with a belated toast: Please raise a glass to all our crazy, oddball, dedicated local friends and champions who have done even just one day’s duty in the bookstore – cheers, saludos, slainte etc. THANK YOU! When we talk about community spirit, we mean you.