Category Archives: Pets

Those Crazy Cat Gods!

Happy Black Friday everyone! Casey here.

Somewhere in the universe, the cat gods must be laughing at me. Or I have a sign only cats can read pointing to my house that says “sucker for strays.”

In any case, a few weeks ago, I discovered this little guy in my recycle bin, licking a soup can. So, I fed him. Then, the next day he came back. And never left. He was friendly, wanted love, affection, and a warm house to stay in. We started calling him Pip (as in pip squeak or Pippin).


A magical force must have been at work because hubby, who initially balked when I wanted to adopt Ariel (and he totally loves her now) didn’t say a word when we carted another cat into the house.

As can be seen, he wasted no time making himself at home.


How could I say no to this guy? He is super sweet and loves to be handled. We’ll never know his real name or origin but it doesn’t matter. He decided we’re his. Maybe the cat gods know what they’re doing.


A Visit at the K-9 Unit

Hello Scribe Followers! Join me over at the Jaunty Quills where I am sharing about my K-9 Unit visit with my Citizen’s Police Academy. I’m serving coffee and doughnuts. Don’t miss out!

Just click here to see these amazing dogs who live to serve and protect.

Axel outside

See you over there!

Meet the New Girl

Happy Friday. Casey here. Not a long post today since I am almost at the end of Mystic Hero’s first draft.

We’ve expanded our furry family again. This is our newest kitty, Ariel. Isn’t she a sweetie pie?


We adopted her from Mary’s Kitty Korner (a wonderful organization dedicated to saving cats). She is still getting used to living with us. She spends her days with older son, in his spacious room receiving chin rubs and playing catch the laser dot. She’s also been exploring the house and getting to know our other two kitties.


Next time you want a new pet, please consider adopting an adult cat or dog from a rescue group.

The King and Queen still reign supreme.

How about you? Have you ever rescued a pet from a shelter? If not, what’s holding you back?

How Do You Cope With Two Type-A Males?

Thea Devine today, shaking my head over the never-ending battle between John and Joey, my two resident type A’s. This time, it was over the tufted rocker in the living room. Joey just loves to grab that space away from John — like he has some kind of radar that alerts him when John is about to sit down.

John is majorly tired of Joey’s demands and the way he takes swipes at him. Nor was he as crazed as I was that time when Joey stayed out all night. Plus Joey invariably has a lot to say that John has made abundantly clear he doesn’t want to hear. And Joey eats enough for two people — how do you control that?

They both want what they want — and they’re always at a stand-off. Joey invariably wins — emotions don’t get in his way. But I’ll tell you — when Joey decides to be nice, he’s really really nice. Even to John. When they fight, neither gives an inch.

It’s a beautiful thing to watch — man vs. orange tabby cat, each one determined to stand their ground.

The thing is Joey (for Joe diMaggio) isn’t our cat — he’s my younger son’s, adopted from a friend who took him from a situation where he was being abused. So he has issues. That kind of excuses everything as far as I’m concerned. If Joey swipes at one of us, well — he has issues. Or he’s trying to get our attention (I really believe).

Also, I like to think he’s trying to fill the space left by the death of our beloved doxie. Maybe he remembers that Midgie was always next to me on the couch. Maybe he knows somehow that I occasionally look over as if I expect to see her there. I note that he comes on the couch more often than not now. He cuddles up when he naps, either against me or John on the opposite end. And with all that, he’s become the sweet cat that my eldest son believes him to be.

Still, the type A growling goes on. Maybe the thing is that John and Joey both need to exert control over their territory. And maybe that’s just something that goes with the territory and it’s not for me to parse it all out.

Maybe my job, as always, is to observe and write it all down. But I bet if he could speak, Joey would probably tell me to mind my own business

Do you have any type-A animals in your house (human included)?
How do you cope? Or do you cope? Maybe we should just leave them all alone.

Thea Devine’s books defined erotic historical romance. She’s the author of twenty-seven erotic historical and contemporary romances, and a dozen novellas. She will be speaking at NJRWA’s Put Your Heart in a Book conference in October.

My Doxie, A Poem and Me

It’s snowing off and on as I write this, and I’m thinking of my two favorite other snow days when my husband didn’t have to go to work, and we had the days to ourselves. One of those days, while the snow piled high outside, inside, we listened to music and read and talked, warmed by the fire. The second time, we braved the elements to have lunch by firelight at a local rustic inn.

Those are romantic moments to me. I’ve often said we romance authors are all married to engineers even if they aren’t engineers. My husband is an educator, teacher of English and former high school administrator. But really, he’s an engineer. He’s linear, he’s a one-thing-at-a-time guy, he doesn’t sugar coat anything. He solves problems. Don’t all heroes?

Another favorite memory happened on a summer day when he wanted me to listen to an album of poetry — Billy Collins — so we drove to Litchfield listening to the CD, had lunch, and continued listening on the way home. After which I immediately wanted to start writing poetry because listening to Billy Collins just inspires you that way.
One of the poems, “The Revenant,” really resonated with me. It was from the viewpoint of a dog in the afterlife, finally confessing his true feelings about his long-time owners, words to the effect of — I never liked you. I hated the food you made me eat. I despised this. I never liked that.
You get the idea. A litany of dislikes and resentments. It made me look at my mini-doxie in a whole new light. Did she hate me? Despise the “naming of the parts” game I played with her? Hate all the silly nicknames I gave her? Did she resent my re-naming her “Munch”?

She was my mother-in-law’s dog, as I may have mentioned previously, a gift after the sudden death of mom’s then canine companion, Casey. The problem was, mom was ninety at the time, had macular degeneration, and was pretty unsteady on her legs.
So my Munchkin started out in pretty shaky circumstances: taken from her mother at 6 weeks, flown up to NY, put in the hands of strangers who then gave her to an elderly nearly blind lady who couldn’t properly care for her.

Something had to give; a year or so later, something did: mom fell, went to the hospital, and we took Midgie. At the time we had our beloved galumphing lab mix, Maggie who was about four times Midgie’s size. We honestly didn’t know what to expect. Mom always thought Midgie would be eaten alive by Maggie. But that didn’t happen.
They got along just fine. Midgie — or Munch — would chase Maggie around the kitchen-dining-living room and then hide under her legs so Maggie couldn’t find her. Or she’d climb up on the couch pillows dive bomb onto Maggie’s back. When they slept, Munch’s body language imitated Maggie’s. I really think Maggie taught Munch how to behave.

She was, as was Maggie, the Best Dog Ever. We were privileged to love her for ten years, and our beloved Maggie for twelve. We lost Maggie to cancer two years before Munch passed away a dozen days into 2011.
Munch’s was the hardest passing to bear, maybe because we’re that much older. And so, the first time in 45 years, we don’t have a dog in the house.
In truth, I’m a little scared. What will he think? What if he hates us? How will we know? And, after all, we still have memories and pictures – and a cat.
I really don’t want to wonder if Munch was happy — I think she was — I loved her to pieces, walked her, fed her, spoiled her rotten, made up songs about her, played with her — but a year after that lovely lunch in Litchfield, that Billy Collins poem continues to haunt me. I never liked you …
And still I wonder …
Did she hate me?

Do you have a pet? Would you? Wonder, I mean …]
How powerful words are.
How about you? Any pet stories to tell? Any poems that resonated on that level? Meantime, I’d seriously advise you to occasionally look deep into your pet’s eyes and try to divine what she or he is really thinking.

(You can read The Revenant on-line.)

Thea Devine’s books defined erotic historical romance. She’s the USAToday best-selling author of 25 historical and contemporary romances and a dozen novellas. She’s currently working on an erotic contemporary romance. She misses her Munchkin terribly.