The Cat Who Spied On Me

By Jane Oldaker

Excess holiday indulgence leads Mahoney into an ultra-secret undertaking placing him in an undreamt of predicament with only an unlikely ally for help. Arlo is required to marshal all available resources for a tactical mission and his spycraft is taxed to the limit.

Cover art & illustrations by J.B. Mann of Fuzzballs*Fuzzywinks Illustrations

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jane Oldaker
• Release date: Jun 26, 2014
• ISBN: 9780988153363

Jane Oldaker

Born and raised in Toronto, Jane escaped to the family farm near Port Perry, Ontario at the earliest opportunity where she lives with her husband, daughter and an assortment of cats, dogs, chickens and horses.

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The Cat who Spied on Me

The Secret Life and Career of Arlo the Barncat

Jane Oldaker

What’s YOUR cat do when you’re not at home?

Copyright:

The Cat Who Spied on Me ©2013 Jane Oldaker

Smashwords Edition

All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or in any means – by electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise – without prior written permission.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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ISBN 978-0-9881533-6-3

Cover art and illustrations by J.B. Mann of Fuzzballs*Fuzzywinks Illustrations

For Biscuit who would have no truck with coyotes nor raccoons.

Copyright

Dedication

The Cat Who Spied On Me

Dearest Reader

About the Author

Also by Jane Oldaker

Illustration - Mahoney and McTavish took turns singing songs and nursery rhymes for kittens

Illustration - Buffy stared straight ahead with the fierce expression of a brooding chicken who meant business

Mahoney always found the interval between Christmas and New Year’s to be a thundering bore. The presents had all been given and opened; the company had come and gone. The only redeeming feature of this period, in his view, was the leftovers. The only thing stopping him from sleeping through it altogether was the fact that the endless stream of treats had begun to bedevil his digestion. He regarded it as ultra-top secret, but deep inside he knew it might be due to the fact that he was an older cat and only getting older with every year that passed.

He turned himself right side up and heaved himself out of his warm snuggly place on the sofa where he had been jammed into the cushions, happy as a lark, until the gurgling in his belly began. Cursing himself for bolting down the last two tasty mouthfuls of Mrs. Phelps’ leftover rosemary and leek stuffing, generously bathed in gravy made with cream, he leapt down from the sofa where Arlo still dozed, sleeping off his own holiday excesses. He snapped his jaws wide with a yawn and stretched with a sinewy grace that spoke of the wildness that lay not far beneath his well-padded surface. Mahoney was a mature, feral ex-tom cat that had been seconded to the Agency from his duties as a sofa cushion. He padded silently out of the den, leaving the Agency’s tame veterinarian Phelps, or Phelpsie as he was often called, undisturbed as he snored softly in his favorite chair. Mahoney made his way to the kitchen where Mrs. Phelps obligingly opened the back door for him and he