Agnes Grey dishes the Dirt

Hi, I’m Agnes. Agnes Grey. My kittens and I came to stay here at Tales of the Lonesome Pine until suitable homes could be found for each of us. You’ve heard the story before, I’m sure; I met this Tom, he said he loved me, then after the kittens were born –seven of the most adorable fluffballs in every shade of grey – did he call? Visit? Send flowers? He did not.

But the people at the bookstore took us in from that scary shelter place, because they work for an animal rescue called PAWS. We’re not going to live here forever, but it’s a good stopover for a cat to get her four feet under her again, regroup, see that the children go to good homes.

The children… well, there’s a sad story for you. There were seven, sweet as honey buns, cute as… well, cute as kittens. I would have liked to give them a better start, but times were rough. I didn’t have a home of my own during pregnancy, only nine months old when I got knocked up–and my “family” took me to that shelter when I did!

So my babies were born in jail, and they contracted coccidea (which is sort of like kitty cholera) and five of the seven have left this world. At least they all passed here at the bookstore, with medical care in a soft kitty bed. I cry my eyes out when I think of all the kittens back at the jail–er, shelter–who die alone. They’ve committed no crime, except being born–and that’s not their fault. If humans won’t spay and neuter, what’s going to happen? You think I WANTED to be mom to seven, and me still a teenager? If I’d had the money and could talk, I’d have gotten myself seen to, you can bet! It’s just $50 with the county program.

So now it’s just me and the twins: Earl and Zane. Earl is the feisty one, very independent, likes his ears rubbed but don’t try to pick him up! He’ll be a great hunter someday. Zane is the cuddler in the family, loves to be held against a woman’s chest and baby-talked. Well, you know, he takes after his father….

I’ve enjoyed this chat, and I hope it’s made you think about doing in your own home or business what the bookstore does: fostering cats like me who need a little space to come right in this life. We haven’t done anything bad; we’re just down on our luck. And with help from nice people like you–and spaying and neutering by pet owners everywhere!–we can lick the overpopulation problem. Eight thousand animals every day, killed because there are no homes? Really? Thank God my boys and I won’t be among, but doesn’t it break your heart? So please, adopt your next pet, and if you can, foster some cats like me (or dogs if you must) so they can find a good place to live.

Thanks for listening–and if you want to see the twins or me in the fur, please come on down to the bookstore! They’re open Tuesday-Saturday, 10-6. I’d like to meet my boys’ future parents, you know? (That’s Zane and Earl below; Earl is on the left. Aren’t they handsome?)

Editor’s note: Agnes was adopted today by a man who lives alone on a farm; Earl and Zane went to a family with twin boys. If only all cat tales had such happy endings!

 

A Message from Val-Kyttie, Bookshop CEO

Little did I think, while relaxing as a tiny kitten at the Leith home for orphan cats and dogs (that’s in Scotland) that one day I’d be in charge of the ‘Little Bookstore of Big Stone Gap’.

It’s a heavy responsibility to be in charge of the bookstore and I don’t take it lightly. I mean, we have 38,000 books here and so many customers! So if it sometimes looks as if I’m dozing, or even sleeping soundly, nothing could be further from the truth. I’m continually reviewing our Mission Statement and our five year plan, not to mention marketing strategies and staff training.

Did I mention the staff? There’s the humans—Wendy my catering manager and Jack the general minion and Boy Friday—plus the others.

Ah, the others….

The others are utterly useless hangers-on, complete wastes of space! Zora the black Lab was already settling in when I arrived from Scotland. She thinks she is in charge of customer relations, but she’s not – I am! Bert the Terrier seems to think he’s the security manager, but he’s not – I am! Beulah, whom everyone delights in calling a “pretty kitty,” took over customer attraction duties by sunning herself on the porch – my porch!

Just recently there’s been a positive invasion of pesky little kittens mewling and carrying on. None of them stay long, thank goodness, but as soon as one lot get the message and sling their hook, another lot arrive. Apparently the human staff are “rescuing” them. Hmmph. There is one, by the name of Owen Meany, I believe, who seems to be hanging around a bit longer. Hhhmmm –

It’s enough to drive a cat to drink!

Talking of drink, have you seen that picture of one of the pesky little critters eying up the glass of red? The one the catering manager put on here as the latest caption contest? She should have known better! Everyone knows you have white with fish and I distinctly remember I had shrimp that day. (I hope it wasn’t marinated in red).

I can think of a few short and pithy captions, but they’d probably get the catering manager banned, and she works the can opener. So scroll back to August 14, view the photo, and do your worst.

Perhaps if I have time I’ll write again about the trials and tribulations I put up with here at the bookshop. If it weren’t for me, this place would have fallen into wrack and ruin ages go. The catering manager has no idea what she’s doing, and as for that Boy Friday…. If I didn’t watch him every minute, he’d leave book boxes lying everywhere. It’s only my constant moving in and out of them that reminds him to put them away. Sometimes I have to sleep in one to get him to notice how long it’s been there. Honestly…..