Charlie, the Wonder Cat: A Children's Novel for Adults

By C. Robert Holloway

After decades of avoiding, occasionally fearing cats, C. Robert Holloway adopts a rescue cat from the SPCA for the specific purpose of eradicating the rodent problem at his French Quarter apartment. In admiration for a friends cat named Charlie, he names him Charlie, Too but quickly realizes the Too is too cumbersome and, more bewildering, his critter has little inclination for killing any living creature, especially mice. This distressing trait is in high contrast to Charlies captivating, canine-like social skills and an IQ rivaling the US Navys dolphins.
For the next seven years, Charlie and CRHs bonding coalesces in a determination to be together whenever possible, sharing eating and sleeping habits, learning each others language, mediating friends arguments, amalgamating political persuasions, even travelling together by plane and automobile across the USA.
Early on in their relationship, Charlie demonstrates an inordinate fascination for CRHs laptop, frequently reaches for the delete button, and in the doing, makes valuable editorial contributions. Eventually he masters lifting the PCs lid and turning it on when CRH is away.
When Charlie becomes gravely ill, CRH discovers his true age to be much older than originally listed by the SPCA. Distressed by concern and grief, he drags him to several Veterinary specialists in the area, while begging Charlie to hold on until his condition can be properly diagnosed and a cure might be found. Charlie rallies for a few months, then, just before Christmas, succumbs to cancer of the liver.
Soon after his passing, C. Robert stumbles on a remarkable document which confirms the power of unconditional love, the jubilation that comes from unwavering responsibility, and, on closer reading, a poignant argument to give the concept of reincarnation another appraisal.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Sep 14, 2011
• ISBN: 9781465357816

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Copyright © 2011 by C. Robert Holloway.

ISBN:          Softcover                                 978-1-4653-5780-9

                   Ebook                                      978-1-4653-5781-6

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This book was printed in the United States of America.

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Contents

Preface

Charlie I

Chapter One

Decision

Chapter Two

Big Day

Chapter Three

Home

Chapter Four

Vacuum

Chapter Five

Flying

Chapter Six

Speech

Chapter Seven

Katrina

Chapter Eight

Metrosexual

Charlie on the mend…

Chapter Nine

Snapshots

Chapter Ten

Final Days

Chapter Eleven

Discovery

Memoirs of a Foulmouthed Cat

Coda

iCharlie

Preface

Charlie I

I’ve been wary of cats most of my adult life—found their standoffish, unpredictable nature threatening, on occasion, even menacing. Owned a couple of dogs during my live-stage performing and directing days, but wearied of the airlines ever-changing regulations for flying with a pet. At one point, I owned four types of pet containers sold by four different airlines. In frustration, I gave one of the dogs to a writer-friend in Bucks County and the other to my maid who lived in Far Rockaway.

‘No time or energy,’ was my excuse whenever anyone asked, If you love animals so much, how come you don’t have one?

All went well until a decade ago when a tiny kitten appeared, as if by hubristic determination, in the front door of a friend’s West Hollywood home. According to Robert, this miniature orange and white muff strode in as if he was the landlord and was there to collect rent. Collar-less and bearing no identification of any kind, Robert immediately canvassed the neighborhood, but no one laid claim.

By the second day of what we later referred to as The Siege of Curzon (Robert’s Craftsman-style bungalow was on Curzon Street), the creature had commandeered the wicker divan in the sun room for its daytime naps and a goose-down pillow on the four-poster in the master bedroom for its overnight rejuvenation. As Robert tells it, on the third day, he was thumbing through the Yellow Pages looking for the number of the nearest SPCA when the fearless furball leapt onto his lap, shinnied up to his ear and meowed, My name is Charlie and I love you.

Shortly after that transcendental moment, Robert called to invite me to supper and meet his new roommate. To my question, When did you decide to take one on? he chuckled. Decide is not the operative word. Just get your butt over here and you’ll understand.

What’s on the menu?

Salmon, brown rice, asparagus.

Chardonnay okay?

Perfect! See you at 7:00.

____________________________________________________________________

Robert usually left the door unlocked when expecting me, but that evening, he hadn’t, so I rang the bell. He opened the door, clutching a mostly orange muff. Worried about his getting out, Robert explained. This is my new roommate, Charlie. Charlie, meet your Uncle C. Robert or Crob for short, he smirked, sly as I’d ever seen my no-nonsense friend.

Pretty enough. How do you know it’s a ‘he’?

At the Vet’s this afternoon. Had his physical—got his rabies shots. Made an appointment to have him spayed in a couple of months. For now, the Vet said he’s too young. With that, Charlie wriggled in Robert’s clasp and reached toward me with his front paws. Apparently he wants to say hello, Robert interpreted. You okay with that?

Not if he’s likely to scratch me, I whimpered, instantly embarrassed for sounding like a Valley Girl at the Mall.

Don’t be silly. The Vet guessed him to be about four months old, if that. The only thing that might get hurt would be Charlie’s feelings for rejecting him.

I gingerly reached for the critter who crawled onto my shoulder and commenced to purr in my ear. With that single action, Charlie disarmed me in a heartbeat and my long-standing fear of cats was mostly eased.

Over the ensuing years I became Godfather-fond of Charlie; looked forward to playing, petting and talking with him whenever the opportunity arose, especially on the occasions Robert asked me to Catsit, which I happily agreed to. Once, work made it necessary for me to bring Charlie to my fifth floor apartment for what turned out to be a heart-stopping adventure. While I was away on an errand, Charlie determined to explore the narrow, cast iron balcony abutting my bay window, which overlooks the palm-lined slopes of West Hollywood. Nowhere in sight when I returned, I finally spotted him cowering and shaking, clutching the balcony’s slim metal slats. It was the only time I ever detected fear in Charlie’s eyes. God knows, there was fear enough in mine for both of us. After coaxing and cajoling for an inordinate time, Charlie allowed me to grab him by the scruff of the neck and haul him inside. I was shaking so hard, I don’t remember whether I scolded him or not. Despite the stifling September heat freighted by the Santa Ana Winds, I closed and locked every window in the apartment and never recounted the incident to Robert.

By his second year, Charlie had developed into a lean and lithe, perfectly proportioned, exquisitely colored cat, whose friendly nature allowed him to be draped across Robert’s shoulders as he moved about the kitchen, pantry and dining room, preparing themed gourmet meals for his fortunate guests.

All this provoked me to say and say it often, If I ever decide to get a cat, I want one just like you, Charlie. To which he would shrug, and Robert would respond in an approximation of Charlie’s voice, Good luck with that, Uncle Crob.

Chapter One

Decision

Five years passed after Charlie whispered his name in Robert’s ear and purred a flirtation in mine. Sometime later, I moved to New Orleans and leased a Slave Quarter apartment in the heart of the historic French Quarter, gladly trading the quasi-glam of West Hollywood for the bohemian mystique of 200 year old buildings and gas-lighted streets on which it’s nearly impossible to find a parking space.

Living behind the townhouse that General Beauregard called home for two decades after the Civil War, is fraught with old-world charm, amazing quiet and cherished solitude, sullied only by the periodic parade of Water bugs, cockroaches and columns of mice making their determined march across the patio toward