I will tell you right now that this is one of the most delightful books about cats that I have read! I’ve been involved as a volunteer cat foster home for four years now, and I cannot imagine my life without cats.  With “The Power of Purrs”, Mr. Shiebler masterfully shares stories and treasured memories of the cats that have come into his life and left their precious pawprints in his heart. He truly captures the essence of why cats are just as beloved to their human companions, and why so many of us love cats the way we do. The same passion and devotion to cats is very very evident in his book.  Here is an excerpt from his book:

“It’s five o’clock in the morning, and I’m in that comfortable in-between place, not quite asleep or awake, that magical drifting and floating place you wish could last forever and where real time passes all too quickly. Soon, the first hints of a new day will begin filtering through the silvery mist in tones of abalone and gold and the walls of our bedroom will slowly reveal themselves in a tender wash of light.

The soothing hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen drifts lazily down the hall in the sweet, fading darkness—its efficient motor firmly cooling the half gallon of milk that I’ll splash in my strong cup of coffee in a couple of hours.

 The cheap, digital clock that sits on top of my dresser is a glowing confirmation that I still have a little time to luxuriate in the final strands of a good night’s sleep.

Suddenly, the spell is broken. Not by a blaring car horn or a rattling garbage truck hoisting barrels over whining belts and chugging cylinders, but by a surging collage of thumps and gallops growing from the back of the house. I always try to ignore it, but there’s no defense against these mischievous stirrings, no covers thick enough to hide under, no bedroom door solid enough to stem this restless, impatient tide. Soon, these furry conquistadors will spill into the hallway, ricochet off the walls, and lay siege to our bedroom. We try our best to turn them away, but there’s just no stopping cats that want breakfast.

Through sleepy grunts and sluggish groans, my wife and I reach for anything within an arm’s length of our nightstands. In just a few moments, the air in our once-tranquil bedroom will be filled with slippers, socks, pillows, Kleenex boxes, and small inspirational books. It’s a noble display, but the cats know that it’s just a matter of time before our paltry cache runs dry. They deftly sidestep our halfhearted barrage and dutifully press onward. Soon they’ll be on the bed, marching up the entire length of our pajama-covered bodies.

Twitchy tails will swish beneath noses, whiskers will tickle cheeks, and fuzzy heads will poke and prod our chins. If we refuse to surrender, the troops will split up, and valuable glass items and collectables will be pushed off the edges of dresser tops, phones will be pulled off hooks, and miniblinds will be systematically dismantled. If those tactics fail to swing our feet to the floor, they can always “accidentally” brush up against Cielo, our cat-despising fox terrier. There’s no better way to propel us toward the kitchen than with a spinning, snarling, predawn brawl at the end of the bed.

Once I’m up, the offensive is immediately called off. The battle has been won, this particular morning’s war is over, and I, the defeated mother ship, am carefully escorted to the kitchen by a now-gracious flotilla of whiskered tugboats. When I’m safely in port, the cats strategically reposition themselves on counters and breakfast bars and quietly wait for the familiar sound of cabinet doors opening and silverware drawers sliding out. The recognizable metallic puff of the can opener and my slow, wristy grind around a fresh serving of ocean whitefish signal the end of another successful ground campaign.

I’ve often wondered why I’m so tolerant of these early-morning blitzkriegs. Perhaps it’s because I’d rather be awakened by a sea of cat paws and a chorus of meows than by the jarring pulses of a plastic digital alarm clock. What’s more, my day begins with an act of giving, which is always a good way to start a day.

The following stories are but a slender testimony to these remarkable and often misunderstood feline companions. And when I think of the array of richness, vitality, comfort, and color they’ve brought to my life, I have to go way back to the beginning. To a cat named Sweet Kitty.”

- Gary Shiebler -

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If you’re looking for an unique, special gift for the cat lover in your life this holiday season (or any other gift giving occasion!) I highly recommend this book! It is available at Amazon.com, and you can use this convienint link to purchase and shipt it!

In Fifteen Legs: When all that stands between death and freedom is a ride… Silva recounts her travels as an uninvited and sometimes suspiciously eye-balled guest aboard an Internet enabled escort service for last-chance animals.

Smitten by an inner urge to tell the public at large about the largely undiscovered world she stumbled upon, Silva writes, This notion of volunteers connecting in cyberspace on behalf of desperate, unwanted animals had stolen my heart. The thought of perfect strangers coming together and working as a team to shuttle society’s non-human cast-offs out of harms way was too wonderful a story to pass up. I had to tell it.

Along the way she encounters the heroines and heroes of the animal rescue and transport world, people like Yahoo groups list owner Brandy Holleran, bunny transport boss Jennifer Barbieri, volunteer pilot Kevin Boyle, hurricane search and rescue leader Jane Garrison, and esteemed transport coordinator Terri Epp, who performs cyber-miracles at home from her computer in Canada.

But who ARE these people, and why, after working regular jobs all week, do they willingly give up their weekends to do what they do? As Silva asks, Is this some kind of a clandestine club comprised of people I would never want to take to lunch? Or are they individuals like you and me who, feeling helpless when it comes to big picture problems, will leap at the chance to give an out-of- time animal a lift?

Through a whirlwind of voices speaking on behalf of angels wrapped in fur, Fifteen Legs shows us what can happen when a synchronized squad of strangers fuels up and hits the road. With stubborn optimism and a deep compassion for animals, Silva leaves room for everyone who wants to come along for the ride. No prior experience with shelters, pounds, or animal-people required.

Facts: Approximately 6 to 8 million healthy dogs, cats and other pets are killed in animal shelters every year. But very often a loving, adoptive home, or a temporary foster home can be found for many of these pets. Sometimes, though, that home is several hundred or even thousands of miles away.

That is where the volunteer animal transporters come in – moving animals one leg at a time, usually on a weekend. The planning is done on the Internet, and the transport is done on the Interstate! A transport coordinator (generally working along a specific Interstate corridor) plans the route and schedule for the furry passengers, and then notifies members of that transport group via e-mails. Group members can then volunteer to drive a leg of the route that is convenient for them.

Some transports are only several legs long, some are ten to fifteen legs, and occasionally a transport consists of over 30 legs, moving animals all the way from Florida to New Hampshire, or Louisiana to Oregon. Volunteer animal transport is something anyone with a car, a few hours on a weekend, and a desire to make a difference in an animal’s life can do. And, as one transporter put it, I do a transport almost every weekend because it is just so good for my soul!

But adoptions of kittens are WAY down.  The lousy economy of 2009 is playing a big part, I know that.  But what concerns me, breaks my heart, and makes me angry, is the people out there that are offering “free kittens to good home.”

It makes me angry because to me, obviously, “free kittens” are there because the owner of the mother cat didn’t bother with the responsibility of having the mother cat spayed. Giving away kittens every time the mother gets pregnant only compounds the cycle of pet overpopulation and keeps the vicious cycle rolling again and again and again.

It makes me angry and sad that people who opt for a “free kitten” instead of adopting through one of the rescue groups do it because its “FREE.” What these people don’t realize is that there is a very high chance that their “free kitten” was never tested for FIV/FeLV, never vaccinated, never dewormed, and never checked out by a veterinarian. Their “free kitten” is also not fixed (not spayed or neutered), so when that “free kitten” grows up, they contribue and proprogates the overpopulation cycle AGAIN.

Did you know that one unspayed female cat, her mate, and all of their offspring, producing 2 litters per year, with 2.8 surviving kittens per litter can total over 370,000 cats in 7 years?? (Source = SpayUSA.org) For comparison, each day 10,000 humans are born in the U.S. – and each day 70,000 puppies and kittens are born. Do the math. As long as these birth rates exist, there will never be enough homes for all the animals. The unfortunate result is that all over the country, every year, 4 to 6 million healthy, loving cats, dogs, kittens, and puppies are needlessly euthanized.

The overpopulation crisis affects ALL of US. The only way to stop overpopulation is to SPAY and NEUTER.

I cannot tell you how many times I’ve heard people say, “Oh, I don’t want to spend that much for a kitten/cat” when they inquire about the adoption fee. Yes, the rescue groups ask for adoption fees. Contrary to what some of these people may think, rescue groups ARE NOT doing this for profit!! We are NOT taking “free kittens” and turning them around to offer them up in order to “get rich” by collecting adoption fees.

When the rescue groups have room in their foster home network, they take in kittens and adult cats – ensure they have a complete health checkup, are tested for FIV/FeLV, are vaccinated, dewormed, and spayed/neutered. We keep these kittens/cats in our own homes, care for them as if they were our own, (yes, we get attached to them and love them!), and then we try to match them with homes/households/people that we are confident will love them and care for them as much as we do.

The choice of a “free kitten (or cat)” too often results in expenses out of the new owner’s pockets right off the bat – why spend lots of $$$ when the rescue organization has already laid the groundwork for a healthy, happy kitten/cat?

Often overlooked also is this – the “free kitten” WILL grow up to be an adult cat. Too often, when the “cuteness” factor wears out, the cat ends up at the pound or abandoned or simply just discarded.

I just wish more people would UNDERSTAND the true difference between “free” and “adopted”. I wish more people could display compassion and truly accept the responsibility that comes with having a cat.

This is the longest entry I’ve posted in this blog. Perhaps this essay by Jim Willis will open some peoples eyes and hearts such that they see “free kittens” in an entirely different light.

“Free Kittuns” – Jim Willis

The sign on the mailbox post was hand-lettered on cardboard and read “FREE
KITTUNS.” It appeared there two or three times a year, sometimes spelled this way,
sometimes that, but the message was always the same.

In a corner of the farmhouse back porch was a cardboard box with a dirty towel inside, on which huddled a bouquet of kittens of different colors, mewing and blinking and waiting for their mama to return from hunting in the fields. The mother cat managed to show them enough interest for the first several weeks, but after having two or three litters per year, she was worn out and her milk barely lasted long enough for her babies to survive.

One by one, people showed up over the next several days and each took a kitten.

Before they left the woman who lived there always said the same thing, “You make sure you give that one a good home – I’ve become very attached to that one.”

One by one the kittens and their new people drove down the long driveway and past the sign on the mailbox post, “FREE KITTUNS.”

The ginger girl kitten was the first to be picked. Her four-year-old owner loved her very much, but the little girl accidentally injured the kitten’s shoulder by picking her up the wrong way. She couldn’t be blamed really – no adult had shown her the proper way to handle a kitten. She had named the kitten “Ginger” and was very sad a few weeks later when her older brother and his friends were playing in the living room and someone sat on the kitten..

The solid white boy kitten with blue eyes was the next to leave with a couple who
announced even before they went down the porch steps that his name would be
“Snowy.” Unfortunately, he never learned his name and everyone had paid so little
attention to him that nobody realized he was deaf. On his first excursion outside he was run over in the driveway by a mail truck.

The pretty gray and white girl kitten went to live on a nearby farm as a “mouser.” Her people called her “the cat,” and like the mother and grandmother before her she had many, many “free kittuns,” but they sapped her energy. She became ill and died before her current litter of kittens was weaned.

Another brother was a beautiful red tabby. His owner loved him so much that she took him around to meet everyone in the family and her friends, and their cats, and everyone agreed that “Erik” was a handsome boy. Except his owner didn’t bother to have him vaccinated. It took all the money in her bank account to pay a veterinarian to treat him when he became sick, but the doctor just shook his head one day and said “I’m sorry.”

The solid black boy kitten grew up to be a fine example of a tomcat. The man who
adopted him moved shortly thereafter and left “Tommy” where he was, roaming the
neighborhood, defending his territory, and fathering many kittens until a bully of a dog cornered him.

The black and white girl kitten got a wonderful home. She was named “Pyewacket.”
She got the best of food, the best of care until she was nearly five years old. Then her owner met a man who didn’t like cats, but she married him anyway. Pyewacket was taken to an animal shelter where there were already a hundred cats. Then one day, there were none.

A pretty woman driving a van took the last two kittens, a gray boy and a brown
tiger-striped girl. She promised they would always stay together. She sold them for
fifteen dollars each to a laboratory. To this day, they are still together…in a jar of
alcohol.

For whatever reason – because Heaven is in a different time zone, or because not even cat souls can be trusted to travel in a straight line without meandering – all the young-again kittens arrived at Heaven’s gate simultaneously. They batted and licked each other in glee, romped for awhile, and then solemnly marched through the gate, right past a sign lettered in gold:

“YOU ARE FINALLY FREE, KITTENS.”

The above essay can be found in “Pieces of My Heart” by Jim Willis.

If you’re looking for some great stories to read this summer, why not check out Shirley Rousseau Murphy’s Joe Grey mysteries?

I have read many of the Joe Grey books, and believe me, they are quite delightful to read!

Joe Grey is a cat that actually talks! But Only a handful of his human friends know of his ability and they keep it a secret. Along with his lady friend Dulcie and a third feline friend, Kit, they are the “behind the scene” sleuths and anonymous tipsters that help the human police force of Molena Point solve crimes.

I promise you, you won’t be disappointed!

Amazon.com offers several of the Joe Grey books. Click the link below to go check them out!