The Inspiration Behind the Blog

I was born to be a writer. When I published my first novel Wild Point Island, my orange and white rescued feral tabby Chuck decided he wanted to travel and see the island for himself. Chuck's desire to travel inspired me to begin the blog and take Chuck with me whenever I traveled, which I do frequently. This was not an easy task. First, I had to deflate the poor kid of all air, stuff him in my carry-on bag, remember to bring my portable pump, and when I arrive, I pump him back up. Ouch. He got used to it and always was ready to pull out his passport and go. Now it's Theo's turn. Smart. Curious. And, yes, another rascal.

Showing posts with label angels. Show all posts
Showing posts with label angels. Show all posts

Tuesday, November 11, 2025

Theo and the Angel's Leg in Bamberg

 Why do people travel? What is it that they're really looking for? Dan, Theo and I decide to stop in the historic city of Bamberg, Germany, not because it is a UNESCO world heritage site, not because it has some of the greatest examples of medieval architecture in the old part of the town which can make you imagine you've stepped back in time, and not because they brew a concoction of "smoked beer"--all of those would be good reasons. No. I push Dan and Theo to stop in Bamberg because of an angel's leg. A memory I have that haunts me from when I first saw Bamberg years ago.

Let me start from the beginning. Walk through Bamberg and you are immediately struck by its location near a river and the wide variety of houses. They are different than houses in the states. The architecture is old and at times amazingly quaint. They are the kinds of houses you want to see the inside of--the rooms, the furniture.










We walk along a river and I can't resist taking a video of the houses that butt up against the water.






We enter the old town. Statues sit on buildings above doorways:










Or they are just there as you walk along a bridge:


But the most amazing site is that some of the buildings in the old town are decorated with murals that tell a story. I have never seen anything like it. As we pass building after building, sporting angel murals, I am getting more excited because I know the angel leg is close:






























Theo, who is usually pretty easy going (as long as there are snacks in the picture) balks. He lets out a big meow as we are going up one street and down another.

"Believe me, Theo, the angel leg is sticking out of a building. You will love it."

Theo knows about angels (no, not from church) but from our Christmas tree which has an angel sitting on top of it every year. He's 
been an eyewitness to Mico (his younger brother) racing across the living room and toppling the angel off her perch. 

But angels on buildings? I don't think he believes me.

Dan is also skeptical. "Do you really think a mural of an angel is all that exciting?"

"Trust me, boys. You've never seen anything quite like this before."

All I remember from the trip years ago is that you have to cross over a bridge so when I spot a bridge, we walk in that direction. From a distance I think I see it:



I walk faster and Dan shouts out, "I see it. I see it."

Impressive as it is, it is not what I want and need to see. "Does that look like an angel's leg to you? That's an entire baby angel."



And then I do see it. The angel leg I've been looking for. "There it is."



It is unusual. Half mural/half statue. A little freaky. "Well," I say in triumph. "Am I right? Isn't this the craziest thing you ever saw on a wall of a building?"

Dan holds Theo up so he can get a better look. 

No comment. Not even a meow.

I turn to Dan. 

No comment. 

"A bust?" I ask incredulously.

"Let's go eat," Dan says. Who can argue with that?


Sunday, March 25, 2012

Chuck Sees the Ocean and Becomes A Soggy Mess of Fur




The rascal cat is a real fan of the Jersey Shore.

No, not those crazy kids who have been on reality TV for the last five years or so--burning up the TV tube with their antics. Dare I say Snookie?

I’m referring to the real Jersey shore--the physical entity of land and water--the beautiful waves that crest along the beach--the mythical reality that predates reality TV, the Jersey shore that Bruce Springsteen used to sing about.

That’s the Jersey shore that most Jerseyans know and are proud of, not the parody it has become on national TV.

Oh well, that’s another story.

Down in Atlantic City, traipsing along the famed boardwalk, Chuckie caught his first glimpse of the Jersey shore, the moment we headed out of a certain casino. He could smell the delicious salt water and feel the breeze that blew in from the ocean, but let’s face it, the boardwalk provided plenty of distractions for a rascal cat.

On the way back from out tarot card reading, however, I walked him over to where he could get a real glimpse of the ocean.

There is nothing better, and if you are guardian to a cat, even if he’s a rascal cat, you know what I mean by this--there is nothing better than to watch when a cat goes into that state of awareness--I call it becoming MESMERIZED. He stared straight ahead, and, of course, began to sniff. Now when a cat sniffs, he puts all his energy into it. His nose twitches in the most delightful way. His whiskers move back and forth. He literally seems to inhale the air around him the way someone would inhale smoke from a Cuban cigar. They take it all in. And you just know that because cats are so sensitive to smell, that he is picking up so much information.

As a human, I smell salt and, maybe, some fish, but Chuckie, not doubt, can smell so many things--animals, and people and events that have occurred present and past.

He seems so content there, that I honestly do not anticipate what happens next.

But, just as I turn my head, look back to the boardwalk, because I hear some kind of music and it sounds like old-fashioned organ grinder music, Chuck leaps from my arms and onto the boards in front of us. Of course, he takes off--toward the ocean--the beach.

The curious kid just has to know what’s out there.

“Chuck.”

He ignores me.

The same old story.

“Chuck, come back here.

The kid, despite the fact that he has a belly, can scamper like the wind, and by this point, he flies past the gigantic WARNING SIGN that talks about dangerous rip tides and currents and is off the board and has plopped himself onto the sand. He stops immediately. He lifts first one paw, then another. He has never walked in sand before.

He is sniffing away. Distracted by all the smells, he slows down.

Thank God.

I move closer and I can almost put my hands on him, when he sprints forward toward the ocean.

Would the kid be dumb enough to run directly into the ocean?

No, I tell myself. Cats hate water. They hate getting wet.

But, honestly, Chuck, even though he has the tendency to be an over-groomer--Mr. Clean--doesn’t mind slopping around in dirty situations.

So there he goes--

And there it comes--

A WAVE.

“Chuck, watch out.”

The kids must have angels watching over him. He backs away literally at the last final second and avoids becoming totally soaked. Instead, the wave crashes near enough to scare the bejeebers out of him. Let’s just say he is SPRINKLED with salt water, his coat is dripping, and he retreats with that look in his eye like he’s had enough.

“Well,” I say, trying not to sound overly sarcastic, “this is the Jersey Shore. What do you think?”

No answer, of course.

And, now, he expects me to pick him up--a soggy mess of fur--and put him back in my smart bag and sneak him back into the hotel.

Gees.


Wild Point Island, my paranormal romance, is available on Amazon.com and Barnes and Noble.com.  Recently it was rated 5 Stars by The E Book Reviewers, who said, "At the very core . . . is a multi-level mystery, with plot twists and turns that you never expected. And there is a deep touching love story that grasped my heart and never let go.  This is one book you must go buy now; once you start reading, you won’t be able to put it back down."