Thursday, November 13, 2008

Dewey Readmore Books and Stinky

Vicki Myron was a single mother who had survived the loss of her family farm and an alcoholic husband. But her biggest challenge as the new head librarian in Spencer, Iowa, was to raise the spirits of a small, out-of-the-way town mired deep in the farm crisis of the 1980s. Then, on the coldest morning of the year, Vicki found a tiny, bedraggled kitten almost frozen to death in the night drop box, and her life—and the town of Spencer—was never the same. Dewey, as the townspeople named the kitten, grew into a strutting, affable library cat whose antics kept patrons in stitches, and whose sixth sense about those in need created hundreds of deep and loving friendships. As his fame grew, people drove hundreds of miles to meet Dewey, and he even ended up in a hit television documentary…in Japan! Through it all, Dewey remained a loyal companion, a beacon of hope not just for Vicki Myron, but for the entire town of Spencer as it slowly, steadily pulled itself up from the worst financial crisis in its long history.

Check out Dewey's site and videos of him here -

I love this book and have to admit that I have always had an affinity for library cats. It just seems that no library is complete without one. They add an air of class to the operation and for some reason they seem to be the most long lived of felines. There has to be some connection between knowledge and long life. I love the story of how Dewey came to be in this small town's library and how over nineteen years he gave love and personality to his small town. He reminds me of our beloved Stinky who lived 23 years - four years longer than Dewey. The greatest thing you can say about your kitty when her time comes is "she was a good cat" and our Stinky was. Found her abandoned one day after school and took her home in a old pop tart box. She was the most beautiful Calico colour and the classiest girl on the block always. When we lived at Penhold our house and yard backed onto the main road into the base and across this road was a huge rural field that she would visit (after looking both ways and patiently waiting her turn to cross the road) and hunt for mice for hours in the sun. When we moved into Red Deer she still would go for her neighborhood rodent search but her catches were much less frequent. However she was like a Puma in our large yard trees and would climb to near the top of them to get at the birds despite the fact that her colouring hardly rendered her invisible. When she was ready to die she went to my fathers feet as she did so many early mornings as he got ready for his work in the army. They had a special bond and he was responsible for her name. When she was about a month old she had taken a poop on one of my comic books and he was praising her for being such a good 'stinky girl' (she was also called girlie) so the name stuck. (He also named two cats Fluffy and Stretchie, a dog Scruffy, a rabbit Stew and two hamsters Bonnie and Clyde - I loved him but the man had NO imagination for pet names) But when she died he buried her in the back yard in a varnished wooden box. 23 years and only visited a vet once when she was a kitten to be fixed. She was a good cat.

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