by
Janis Patterson
I envy and am astonished at those
people who can write with small children around – or big children, for that
matter. How do they concentrate?
I am fortunate enough to be able
to work at home in my own office, but always accompanied by our furbabies – one
demanding cat and one prissy diva of a little dog. They are both rescues from
horrific situations (curses be forever on the heads of those who abuse
animals!) and though both our furbabies have been with us for several years
they still bear the psychic scars.
In the everlasting attempt to be
able to concentrate uninterrupted on my writing, I tried locking them in their
rooms. (Yes, they each have their own, generally better furnished than The
Husband’s and mine.) Ours is a reasonably large house, but totally insufficient
to block the chorus of demanding barks, aggrieved howls and pathetic whimpers
engendered by such obviously unjust incarceration. I doubt if Blenheim Palace
would be large enough.
Failing that, I let them into my
office, which though they enjoy it is not the best thing for me. Chloe the cat
will sleep for hours, then demand to be taken into my lap just when I am trying
to concentrate on a particularly difficult scene. ‘Demand’ is not a word I use
lightly; a large cat, she stands on her hind legs and paws at my lap. (She was
declawed when she came to us, but her little ‘fingers’ are incredibly strong.
If she were not declawed I would be positively anemic from bloodloss…) If I
don’t stop and take her up, she starts to sing the aggrieved song of her people
at ear-splitting decibels. On the rare times that doesn’t work, she becomes
more direct and simply bites me on the leg. Seldom hard enough to draw blood,
but definitely hard enough to get my attention. Once ensconced on my lap, she
takes offense if I go on typing; she wants all the attention.
Now Mindy Moo the dog will sleep
though all this, until I pick up the cat; then suddenly the cat is trespassing
on Her Mommy, and she makes her displeasure known. I have to divide Lap Time
equally between them, which can be vexing, as I can only hold one of them at a
time. As Mindy Moo is a terrier (I say she is half terrier mix and half pure
diva) she is most decided about her wants. Any attempts to train her have gone
unfulfilled by the wayside – with two exceptions. She does use her pee-pads. We
don’t dare let her out, as we have both coyotes and red-tailed hawks in our
neighborhood and at ten pounds she would be a tasty morsel for either. She also
has made a fine art of obeying to ‘sit’ and ‘ask’ and getting a treat for doing
so. Anything else – hah!
What is most alarming for me – as
a writer of mystery and occasionally horror – is that she will sleep quietly for
hours, only to explode into frenzied barking and snarling without warning –
usually when I am deep into an unnerving and/or frightening scene. Perhaps she
just wants to make sure my heart is working properly. It hasn’t exploded yet,
though sometimes I wonder why. Despite the dark places in my mind, though, it
is useful to know that neither postman nor UPS man nor marauding moth can
approach the front door without Mindy’s noisy alert. I really don’t know if she
thinks she is protecting the house or if she regards the postman and UPS man as
a sophisticated, self-ambulatory version of meals-on-wheels for dogs. The moths
are probably just for fun.
However – I love them (most of
the time) and the three of us can rub along together tolerably well. Again,
most of the time. But I still am in awe of those who can write with children
around. My hat is off to all of you!
(By the way, A KILLING AT EL KAB, a Janis Patterson mystery, and CURSE OF THE EXILE, a Janis Susan May Scottish Victorian Gothic Romance, are on sale for only $1.99 each at most major ebook outlets through 18 February)
