Friends of Fur and Feather - Short Story Collection

By Kate Pavelle and Olivette Devaux

ANIMALS AS BEST FRIENDS! Come enjoy the antics of our human companions. Clever, sometimes uncannily so, as though they knew what's best for us better than we do. Sweet romance, couples brought together, kids showing wisdom beyond their years - that and more awaits you within the pages of this short story collection by a single author who publishes under two pen names:

THOR - a huge, roaming cat of two homes befriends a son of a divorced father and nudges his two "dad owners" together in the sweetest way.

AERIAL CHICKENS OF ODESSA - even in the city, little chicks can cheer up an ailing girl. Keeping chickens in a Soviet-era, conrete-panel apartment building requires both ingenuity and humor, both from the side of the birds and their humans!

UNTAMED - when the homeless Kai man picks a pocket, the phone's owner texts him. An effort to return the phone leads Kai not only to a new chance at a better life, but onto the bare back of an untamed stallion. This story gave rise to the Wild Horses series.

OLDRICH AND HIS HEN - in this never-before published story, a World War I vet, wounded and lonely, makes his way home with the help of an unlikely, feathered friend. When he picked her up just to have someone to talk to, he never guessed she would end up saving his life. Based on a real story.

WISHING ON A FISH SCALE - Newly-widowed dad takes a new job overseas, and navigates the joys of a Czech Christmas with his little daughter Suzette. Both hilarity and romance ensues when Tomas takes them to the traditional fishing of the ponds. Thanks to little Suzette, no fish were harmed in the making of this story. 

The author writes LGBT romance as Olivette Devaux, and everything else as Kate Pavelle. But, mostly, she writes stories to put a smile on your face. 

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mugen Press
• Release date: Feb 28, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201783228

Kate Pavelle

A prolific writer under another name, Kate Pavelle is an award-winning author and an Amazon best-seller. Her works span many genres, but her Kate Pavelle pen name focuses on works of suspense, adventure, and the occasonal dead body. Born in the Czech Republic, Kate enjoys her rich family and professional life in Pittsburgh, PA.

Book preview

INTRODUCTION

by Kate Pavelle

Welcome to the FRIEND OF FUR AND FEATHER short story collection by Kate Pavelle and Olivette Devaux! Kate writes non-romance, Olivette writes romance. Enough said.

Animal stories hold a special place in my heart, because I grew up with critters since I was a little critter myself, and at this time, my life is populated by an oversized, adopted dog Freya, an outdoor fishpond which I forever protect from the local heron, and a small aquarium containing plants and several low-maintenance tropical fish. My daughter's two cats, amazing aquariums, and a friendly corn snake carry on the family tradition of critter friends, but of all animals mentioned in this collection, we have never had a horse.

I always wanted a horse, and I used to ride, but riding will teach you that buying even an inexpensive horse will still cost as much in its proper maintenance as it would to send your kid to a local community college. Thus, no horse, and I've made my peace with that. In my process of letting go of my equine dream, I wrote a whole series that revolves around their ceaseless and unrelenting needs. You'll find out more when you read Untamed.

The chicken story, Oldrich and His Hen, is based on a family true story and the hen doesn't refer to his wife (he never married,) but to his feathered companion animal that helped him survive the aftermath of his World War I service. I will assume my great-uncle's chicken friendship as one I have at least a partial claim upon, since I gave them eternal life by committing their story to paper for future generations. Keeping laying hens has always intrigued me, and I gave it a serious thought. Our zoning requirements would, however, place the chicken coop right under the laundry line. Since our neighbors are too urbanized to tolerate free-range laying hens peeking through the fence, my husband, very sensibly, talked me out of yet another insane project.

The other feathered story, The Aerial Chickens of Odessa, was inspired by my friend's childhood memory of trying to keep chickens in one of those boxy, Communist-era concrete high-rises. The logistics of the situation just simply bend my mind!

Wishing on a Fish Scale is an LGBT romance, where a widowed father of a little girl moves them to the Czech Republic for a fresh start. Through them, I get to introduce you to my favorite Christmas traditions as well as to the whole immigrant experience. In my case, my family immigrated to the United States as political refugees, but I had been old enough to develop an inner commentary on the realities of language and cultural barriers. Only you can judge whether I had conveyed them with all their humor, their trauma, and with that eternal sense of hope a new start in life can bring.

Enjoy the stories. You can find all of them, and many more, in major online book stores, as well as in paper. To buy directly from my online store, please visit at www.mugenpress.com and explore!

THOR

Olivette Devaux

I had always been fascinated by neighborhood cats. You know the ones - they are not quite stray, but they like to eat from more than one bowl. We have one that sleeps in our garage in the winter, but it's obvious she has both a home and an adventurous streak true to her kind.

This heartwarming romance, which was first printed in the HeartsKiss Magazine, features Thor, a huge Norvegian cat who roams and makes friends. A boy who tries to tame him befriends not only the cat, but he also brings together his dad and Gustav, the cat's official human.

Because Thor, true to his namesake, refuses to have an owner.

LEVITTOWN, PA WAS A bit of a dump (as his mom used to say), but Jayden found the world lovely now, covered in a thin layer of late March snow. Stately old maples and sycamores overshadowed the modest family ranch-style homes on their even plots, their thick trunks marching up and down the street like sentinels that marked coveted parking spots.

He made a snowball, no gloves. The white snow made his hands look dark, way past tan, and he grinned. This way, his hands were more like dad’s and less like mom’s, and dad was the one that stayed.

Anger washed over him. Jayden kicked against a clump his dad had left when he shoveled before he went to work. His toe stubbed a brick that froze to the driveway.

He hissed in pain and reminded himself to tell dad that his sneakers were tight again. Then he shook the pain off and took the time to soak in the pastel colors of the sunrise. Even those pallid, late winter rays lent a bit of warmth to the crisp, clean air.

A movement caught his eye.

He spun—a...wait. That couldn’t have been a cat, because cats weren’t that big. A raccoon? But those were never orange.

Jayden turned and ran, light-footed, on the fluffy snow until his path crossed with the footprints the feline predator had left behind.

Huge paws. Sprawling, almost tiger-like, and not sinking into the snow very much, which made him think of a nature show on animals with hair between their toes. The extra fluff held them up on the snow like snowshoes.

A roar of a bus from around the corner sent a spurt of adrenaline of a different kind through Jayden’s veins. He broke for the corner bus stop, running lightly, like a cat. Like a snow cat, or a bobcat, or a Siberian tiger.

He ran like a cat that had no business prowling through a placid Philadelphia suburb.

GUSTAV BREATHED A SIGH of relief when he saw a streak of orange flash across the snow in the yard. He knew Tiger would barge in through the cat door in the garage—soon he heard the click of the mechanism shutting on Tiger’s tail.

He threw the basement door open. Tiger flew up the stairs, frisky and hungry and excited. Something had happened somewhere.

Spring, maybe.

Despite the late snow on the ground, the animals knew their seasons, and Tiger had probably found a girlfriend somewhere on the rooftops. Gustav squatted to pet his giant orange cat, taking care to scratch behind his tufted ears and to check his shoulders for signs of battle.

Tiger was a Norwegian cat, a gift from his Norwegian grandfather. The old man with his big beard and square shoulders was the last person Gustav had expected to treat him kindly when the word had spread that he was gay. Just read the Edas, his grandfather had said, referring to the ancient Norse poems. They talk about old warriors who gave up going a-viking and settled together in the same house. Old cats, they called them. That’s Viking retirement for you, settling down with a guy once you’re done putting your mark on the world. Although...you don’t have to wait till you’re in your forties, like they probably had. Considering their life expectancy, an’all.

Grandpa Lund had adopted American English vernacular as easily as he adopted cats, but over the years he got selective with his cat breeds. Now he had mostly Maine Coons and Norwegians, all big and hairy and taking no lip from human or dog.

Grandpa Lund was, unfortunately, the only member of his family who had taken his coming out in stride. Scandinavia was so nonchalant about same-sex relationships, but this easy attitude didn’t seem to translate to immigrants such as his parents. His younger brother knew, but he had his own fish to fry. College was hard enough without football and the looming NFL draft complicating the issue.

But he still had grandpa Lund living off in the wilds of Massachusetts, and he had Tiger, the big orange cat. Except Tiger had taken to roaming. Where were you, buddy?

Tiger flipped onto his back and permitted Gustav to scratch his tummy, albeit gently. He had his way around the neighborhood, but he wasn’t telling any tales.

ONCE JAYDEN CAME HOME, he tried to look for the cat footprints, but the snow had melted, and the tracks were gone. He was home alone, and as a capable eleven-year-old—almost twelve—he knew how to make himself a snack. Opening a can of tuna fish turned into gleaning a little snack for his mysterious visitor.

The trick was to hide the tuna in an old plastic yogurt container away from the driveway, where his dad wouldn’t see. They were never allowed to have pets because mom was allergic to cats and dogs. But now that mom ran away with her personal trainer, and now that Jayden had been alone with his dad for three whole weeks, maybe things would look up again.

Maybe now that mom was gone, they could get a cat. A special, exotic cat with big paws and a long tail, and fabulous long whiskers. And that cat would love him, and eat food from his hand, and sleep in his bed like the cats in online videos always seem to do.

He set out the treat in the bush by the back porch, in a place where he could observe the visitor from his dining room homework spot. The frame of the antiquated French doors to the patio stuck, but there was nothing wrong with the glass and Jayden was determined to observe his visitor.

DAYS PASSED. MOM CAME to get her stuff, tossing her fake-blond hair and smiling too hard as she tried to convince Jayden to come live with her and Zack, the trainer. Except Jayden had