Memoirs of Josephine Fish

By Patricia Fish

Josephine Fish is a pensive, intelligent calico and the unlikely heroine of the book that bears her name. When we first meet Josephine we realize she’s no ordinary housecat: She alone in the animal kingdom, or those outside of the human race, is able to communicate through the written word, and Miss Josephine has worked diligently to perfect her skills on her “female human’s” computer. When the local wildlife discover Josephine’s unusual talent, she’s ensnared into the nitty-gritty of political activism. Crafty use of the ancient art of blackmail catches the political world unaware when Josephine votes her conscience and follows the commands of the brusque but efficient Mr. Blue Jay. Soon, politicians across America begin to buckle under the pressure, brought by the mysterious E-mails pouring out of the Fish’s peaceful, suburban household, to do right by the animal world – or else.
The author of this well-paced mystery has found the perfect blend of suspense and humor that force us book-lovers to miss our beauty sleep to find out whodunit. Thank you to Patricia Fish for sharing Josephine with the rest of us.

• Language: English
• Publisher: LifeRich Publishing
• Release date: Oct 25, 2019
• ISBN: 9781489725950

Patricia Fish

Patricia Fish is a dedicated social media writer and loves to write humorous fiction. She is a news and political junkee and has Blogs that detail daily life, reviews books, movies and TV.

Book preview

Chapter 1

So What About Cats?

T he time has come for the first cat to write a book. To the human readers who groan of yet another book written by a cat, I say….come on now. Do you really think those books were written by a cat? Of course not. Do you really think THIS book is written by a cat? Of course not. So what’s your point, Josephine? you ask. My point is….this book is the first one written by a real cat. I know you think that like every human author before me that pretended to be a cat, this book’s author is also playing a game. Believe what you will, gentle human reader. For what you will read will surprise and convince you that only a cat could know the wisdom and secrets as dispensed.

We must now go on to the chapter topic, oh human one, so that I may provide this, Josephine’s first revelations and secrets of the felines you adore.

Of course, I was not able to see the musical Cats. First, I cannot drive and have no money to obtain the tickets. Second, even if I could do the above, the theater would most likely not allow me into the loges, no matter how iconic I may be of the musical’s title. Rest assured, I have heard every song in the musical many, many times. It was quite simple for a cat of my intelligence to gather the gist of the play by so listening. It is more difficult, yet still no challenge for a cat such as myself,to give this, the first genuine feline critique of this musical the humans seem to adore.

We must now address the song that addresses the addressing of cats. Specifically, the song would have you believe that cats are to be spoken to in some sort of majestic matter, as if royalty. Puppycock! Cats, human readers, adore being addressed by their human owners by their own names given them by the same human owners. Cats do not, and only a cat would have the courage to destroy the myth, sit around all day thinking about their name. Cats are quite content with the name bestowed upon them by kitten happy humans- no matter how stupid the sound.

I must confess right here that a cat such as myself, understanding, reading and writing in the same language as the humans, might take offense at some of the names the more normal cats of the world must bear. I would not, I hasten to add, appreciate being called Mittens or Fluffy. This is most because I am a well-read and learned cat and know that such names are symptoms of a total lack of imagination by human owners. And now I must hasten to add that the Mittens and Fluffies of the world do not mind their boring names at all. For myself, I was most fortunate to be adopted by a pair of humans who rather thought my coat quite colorful, and bestowed upon me the feminine form of Joseph with the technicolor coat. I go through my life proudly with the Josephine appellation, loving it both as a cat that always adores its name, and as a cat that is smart enough to appreciate its biblical origin.

No mind me, all the other cats that live here also love their names as humanly awarded. They do not care a whit for the name’s origin (and some of their name origins are pretty stupid…more on this later). They only care that the sounds that make the name are their own special combination of sounds. When the humans form the sounds of their names, the cats of the world, as individuals, know that the human speaks only to them.

While that is my major criticism of this Cats musical, there are many more subtle discrepancies foisted upon the human theater attendee by the play. Indeed, I must stop here with my feline criticism of the CATS musical, as this play only yet again carries across the stereotype that the playwrights and authors would have you believe about cats. For I find time and time again, in my voluminous readings, that the humans love to depict cats as aloof, solitary and disdainful of human interaction but on their own feline terms. Dirty litter pans!!! Goodness, cats adore humans! The thing that will never fail to amaze me is that the humans would continue time and time yet again to promote the cat as trivializing the humans in their lives.

An even bigger surprise to the humans who may read this would be that most, if not all, of the animals adore humans! But I get quite ahead of myself.

Even the cat cartoons and commercials show the Morris’ that would disdain the humans and the food they offer. I have read the Garfield comic strips and marveled that any human would even begin to believe a cat thinks like this Garfield creature. On some Saturday mornings while the adult humans slept, the human child and I would watch the Sylvester cartoon cat as he was always foiled by the Tweety Birds. The saddest thing of all this human-cat frenzy in the theaters, comic strips and cartoons, is that it is the sad Sylvester cat that comes closest to the nature of the real cat. Even with this, they are all so far off the mark as to be caricature of aliens than any earth feline.

Since I do, I admit quite truthfully, also love the humans, I understand that they could not know that so many of the cat behaviors they perceive to be as haughty and aloof are in the reality of things, just behaviors that are part of the instinct. And not that humans understand instinct that much at all (at least I have not read that much about it), even though they should. I offer here that humans have more instinct than they realize. Since they, as a species and based on my National Enquirer readings, do not comprehend their own instinctive impulses, I should not bear surprise that they do not understand the instincts of the feline.

For so very often a human hand is offered when the cat so offered is in a state of alertness. It could have been the unusual curl of the curtain fabric as it responded to the wind wafts. It may have been the dust mote that settled complacently and suspiciously on the rocking chair arm. It is conceivable it was the shadow of the bird as it flew past the sunbeam to cause a feline start. It may have been any one of these things that put the cat on alert to danger in the environment or possibility of prey. Cats, as my human colleagues cannot quite comprehend, are in a state of ever alert. And I know as sure as a kitten will play with a ball of string that the human readers are laughing at this from the animal that sleeps nineteen hours a day.

Cats do not sleep, silly geese. They ‘rest their eyes’. They ‘sleep with one eye open’. Give it whatever silly and irrelevant human term you want. The only time cats truly sleep is when they find that one special hidey-hole that even the humans cannot find even without the stress. In my own house, myself and all five of the other cats have a special place to escape for some ‘real’ sleep. I laugh to this day at my humans who call the names of the cats who sleep in those places the humans will never find. I see them lifting the skirts of the beds to seek the cat who would hide beneath the mattress. They will open the cabinets and search the closets. At times, they have even looked in the refrigerator for the cat who sleeps contentedly and with no concern for the world beside the warm chimney thrusting through the closet and unknown by the humans.

The humans marvel at the cat as we groom ourselves completely and patiently. They place the ‘arrogant’ adjective on this behavior. They mistakenly label as arrogant the instinct cleaning behavior that would prevent our prey from smelling our smells before the meal could be obtained. They label as arrogant that behavior which would bring about starvation were it not regularly and religiously performed.

So as we hide for much needed sleep, or groom for the unsuspecting prey, or hesitate for the shadow that would protect us from the owls-the humans would label us as haughty, aloof, arrogant.

In spite, we are lucky, us cats. For these behaviors are taken to be funny by the humans. They create the Garfields for the laughs. They get some sort of kick out of the thought that a mere animal is poking fun at them…the humans….the highest evolved.

The reality of it is, and this is offered by an author that can only be feline and unafraid to destroy the myth, the cats are merely displaying the behaviors as dictated by their instinct. It is a survival instinct and has served them well.

The humans do not think of the mink animals as being cute. There are no mink Garfields. The humans slaughter the mink animals to steal their skin to wear as they attend the premiere of the CATS musical.

And so I have written about the myths of the cats as perceived by the humans. It occurs to me that perhaps the humans need some idea of how they might be perceived by the cats. Or even the other animals in their surrounds, but again, I am ahead of myself.

I have said before and I will say again, cats adore humans. We will, if given the choice and similar circumstances, almost always choose to spend our time with humans even as opposed to another of our own species.

They fascinate us, the human creatures, with all their knobs and buttons and ever busy lives. We would not, our own feline selves, choose such a life, for a cat appreciates only the familiar, routine and unchanged. We could not conceive of rushing to the automobile things to rush to a strange environment to grab our lunch on the run to work all day at our desks. Still, we find the humans so very interesting in all that they accomplish in one short day in which we would only achieve a few long naps and occasional trips to the food bowl.

On those days when both of the humans chance to be home all day, all six of us will spend the day just watching all that the humans manage to do. And while we admire them for the entertainment, we will, our comfortable cat selves, choose to sit in the sunbeams to watch the frantic human activities of the day.

It is usually one of my cat house-mates that awakes with the female human as she comes sleepily into the kitchen to begin the coffee thing. Even at her sleepy gait, she goes at a higher speed than any one of us would the entire day. She then presses the television button (all of us, even the stupid cats, watch television with great relish….we love the human sounds). This early in the morning, more human sounds fill the air from the television. All of the cats now come into the kitchen to begin the watch of the amazing human activity as it begins the day.

We must then fight over the sunbeams. I, as most intelligent and just plain meanest, do get the most treasured sunbeam. Comfortably ensconced, I then begin to watch the marvelous humans.

Us cats have a pretty good setup here. The kitchen is generally a hub of activity, and the kitchen also is the place with the large window that would allow us to watch the squirrels, chipmunks, and birds who come to the deck for offered seed. The humans only obtained the big window just last year. All of us cats were most thankful for this huge television screen to the outside. The window sits directly in front of a bird and squirrel feeder setup that brings all manner of birds right up to the windows and in front of our very noses. The squirrels do also sit about three inches from any one of us to eat the seed the female human deliberately places close to the window. We then watch the squirrels eat the seed directly in front of us and separated only by a sheet of glass.

We do thus have a most interesting array of cat-watching choices. For myself, more wise than the others, I prefer to watch the more intelligent of the animals on my viewing selection. Sometimes though, instead of watching the squirrels, I will spend the day observing the humans.

They do so very many interesting things.

The female human around here is usually the busiest. This is, I discover in my later scrutinization, generally the norm across all the species. Not that the male human doesn’t do interesting things. It is the female human we most enjoy to observe.

She does this thing with a piece of cloth and water. She rubs the cloth, wet with water, all over everything. She usually will insist to rub the cloth over the table on which I am most comfortably laying upon to observe her own mean self who will make me move. I hop down to watch her doing that thing with the cloth.. Sometimes she sprays stuff from sort of a container, then rubs that cloth all over just everything. Frequently, she rubs the cloth over our very window television screens. Only then she uses a paper cloth to rub the glass.

She amazes me with this cloth, always rubbing it all over everything. I have seen her open up doors of the various cabinets and appliances, and begin to rub the cloth inside of these! Still, I always love it when she starts with that cloth. I have learned from my readings that she is performing some sort of cleaning activity. I surmise it must be some activity that helps the humans find their prey, just as we cats scrupulously lick our fur.

Another thing she does that is so amazing…she gets this board thing out, it stands up on two legs. The other stupid cats with which I live are scared of the thing, thinking it to be some sort of two-legged animal they have not yet discovered in their travels. Since I am the only female cat in this household, it becomes incumbent upon me to inspect all the parcels and packages that come into the house for feline safety. I was able to ascertain within two hours that this two legged thing was of no danger to the cats. In fact, I love to lay upon the thing my own self when the female walks away. I don’t know how the thing works, but for some reason the surface is soft and usually quite warm. The female human will almost always shoo me off when she returns to rub some metal thing over the two legged animal. She yells at me sometimes too, which always hurts my feelings. I just want to watch her, yet she acts to be insulted and displeasured..

I forgive her though, for she will still continue to beguile with even more interesting activities. The best activity with which she entertains me is when she prepares the food. It always surprises me that the humans don’t just buy their food in a big bag like they do for us cats. For me, the cat food suits me just fine.

But the humans have to go through a whole lot of preparations just to eat. And when the female human brings out the food to do all the stuff she has to do to it, I am most happy.

First, she brings out all kinds of interesting stuff from deep within these cabinets which I would love to explore but for the doors. You just could not believe all the stuff that I had never known existed yet comes right out here on my table. I sniff everything and yet still am unable to identify the little jars of seeds, the cans and bags of powdery stuff, not to mention the bowls and pots which I vaguely comprehend but have not had chance to lie within.

Then she goes and brings out the actual food stuff, some of which I can identify. The humans do eat meat most wisely and as the felines would prefer. Should a package of chicken or beef come out of the refrigerator, I am delighted to no end and will even lick the bloody water off the packages if the human does not see.

The male human is the one responsible for the food bowl and litter pan. Sadly, he has reached the Peter pinnacle in this task and I most always remind him. He is a pathetic kind of fellow, this male human. I hasten to say that I truly love him, but he must always be reminded by myself as to the food bowl that slowly empties into the bellies of my male roommates. The female human also, I most tentatively insert here, must always remind the male human of the tasks undone. And while he scolds me for a simple trill of food bowl reminder, he never says anything to her whose reminders are much louder than my own.

So, gentle human readers who dare to continue, you have read of the cats as felinely portrayed as opposed to those from the human authors’ vivid imaginations. You have also read of the feline fascination of human activities that do so entertain us. But, hah, you ask, just how do the cats perceive others of their own species? Funny you should ask.

Cats, my human friends, are solitary animals. I am quite sure you may even discover this in readings by human authors. In our wilder heritage, a cat would own a territory in much the same way as the birds still do. They would only venture beyond their territory to obtain a mate or food as necessary. Cats can, however- and do so quite readily- adapt to a household with more than one feline in residence. Even my own self has adapted to living with five cats, all of them of the opposite sex and all of them quite stupid.

It does take some adjustments.

The humans are so tall I doubt they could ever comprehend life from the vantage point of the feline. Most cats do not stand much more than eight inches from the ground. And from this abbreviated point of view, we must constantly memorize the contents of our environments and note any changes from when last observed. Thus, all the furniture, records, laundry piles, tossed pillows, pictures, knick-knacks, rug fibers, fans….all of it, must be recorded in the feline mind on entry to a room. The memory must then be compared to the room recording from our last entry. The feline brain must then scan through the database and note any discrepancies between the past and current visit. Once the changes are so noted, the cat must then inspect the objects that changed, moved or are new. At the point that the cat has inspected all of this, he might be inclined to test any new or changed objects for feline napping suitability.

The humans laugh at me when I try to curl up in the little bread basket they left on the table. Or when that stupid Julio sleeps in the dish towel covered dish drainer. Not that I would ever take up for the stupid Julio, but the humans are really boring when it comes to sleep. I mean, they always sleep in the same place. Cats are a species that know how to nap. You tend to get really good at that activity which you spend most of your life indulging.

Anyway, the humans have no idea the mental strain required of the felines in their homes as they haphazardly bring more appliances, boxes, clothing, and STUFF into the home.

My humans tend to bring a lot of CATS into my home. And this really freaks me out. They just have no idea…….

Excuse for just a moment. Didn’t mean to get emotional. But every time I think the humans might bring home another animal…..I get irrational.

Not that I my own calico self was the first cat to ever live with these humans. The silly cat brothers Ernie and Julio (didn’t I tell you they had stupid names?) were already here when I came along. I spent the entire first night sitting in a crouch and growling at these two in case they got any ideas. Before too long I discovered, as will most females before too long, that these males were