The Cat on the Shelf

My cat, Kitty O loves high places. I like to say that's because he likes to have friends in high places. He can be Cat on a Hot Tile Roof, he can be Cat Up a Tree, and he can be The Cat on the Shelf.
The last is my favorite. He paces the carpet, considering his next move, and then, just like that! as if it's the easiest thing to do, he jumps onto a shelf and curls up. It's amazing to see how he manages to snuggle between books, on top of them, or in front of them.
Nothing, in my mind, can better a home than books and a cat. Except, perhaps, a cat on a shelf of books.
For some reason, it always reminds me of Dr. Seuss's The Cat in the Hat. I gain great comfort from Dr. Seuss, for I read somewhere that he had great difficulty publishing his poems, that he was told rhymes would not sell.
I can relate to that. I was told that a mystery set in India, solved by an Indian commissioner, would not sell. I did not listen. I wrote The Girl Who Went Missing am now working on my second Commissioner Oscar D'Costa mystery. I so hope I can prove the naysayers wrong.
Meanwhile, I enjoy seeing Kitty O, not framed by a window pane, but hanging with books. I dream that one day he will be curled up on a book or two or three that I have written. Then it will be Cat on a Shelf of My Books.