Fans of the Cat Who... series get an intimate look at the private lives of those extraordinary Siamese cats Koko and Yum Yum--the most unlikely, most unusual, most delightful team in detective fiction.
In this charming collection of feline antics, readers will discover why Qwill considers Koko a veritable clone of T.S. Eliot's Rum Tum Tugger, how Yum Yum was rescued from a burglar who is not above a spot of catnapping, and many more fascinating cat facts.
About the Author
Date of Birth:1916
Date of Death:June 4, 2011
Place of Birth:Massachusetts
Place of Death:South Carolina
Education:Graduated from high school at age 16
Read an Excerpt
enter: kao k'o kung, howling
I'll never forget those days! I was getting my life back on track. I had a job, writing features for the Daily Fluxion. I had a place to live, an apartment on the ground floor of an old mansion. And soon I would be getting a roommate!
My landlord, who was art critic for the Fluxion, lived upstairs with his art treasures and a Siamese called Kao K'o Kung. Although I knew nothing about cats, I was enlisted for cat-sitting when the critic was out of town.
He wrote his reviews at home and never went near the news office. According to conventional wisdom, he never went near the art galleries either, but wrote his nasty criticism off the top of his head. Among local artists he was well hated, to coin a phrase. So no one was surprised when he was murdered in his own backyard.
That was the first time I heard the cat's "death howl," a bloodcurdling experience!
Kao K'o Kung-that smart cat!-then walked downstairs and moved in with me. I recall giving him some turkey from the Press Club that I had been saving for myself.
So here we were! Thrown together by fate! First thing I did, I changed his name to Koko.
He made no objection. He knew which side his bread was buttered on! In the days that followed we invented games to play, both athletic and intellectual. I was at work all day but made up for it by reading to him every evening-either the Daily Fluxion or the dictionary; he was not particular.
Then I began to find fault with the old mansion. It seemed to be the ancestral domain of a dynasty of moths, which were eating holes in my bathrobe and neckties. But where could I move? Apartments in my price range specified "no pets allowed." I discussed the problem with Koko, who listened thoughtfully. I told him that a friend of mine was going to Europe for three months and had suggested that I house-sit. Koko squeezed his eyes. We were getting to be pals. Then, to my surprise, he turned out be a self-appointed bodyguard and somewhat of a bloodhound!
One day he wanted to go upstairs to his old haunt. The murdered man's treasures had been removed, but I had a key to the apartment and the supply of cat litter. But that cat seemed to have his own urgent reason; he ran up and down the stairs ahead of me in anticipation.
Sure enough, there was a large tapestry still hanging in a hallway, and Koko was determined to paw his way behind it. When I went to his assistance, I discovered a door back there, which the landlord had found it advisable to conceal. It led downstairs to a small ground-floor apartment in the rear of the building, and it was filled with clues to the recent crime. It had been used as an artist's studio and still had an odor of turpentine.
Just as I was snooping around in amazement and Koko was getting some kind of early high from the paintbrushes, I heard a key turn in the rear door leading to the backyard, and a big man walked in. For a moment we were both frozen in surprise. Then he looked about wildly, grabbed a palette knife, and came at me!
Before I could find a chair to swing at him, Koko threw a catfit! The room seemed filled with snarling animals, attacking him from all sides with claws extended! I was able to clobber the guy, and we left him on the floor while we called the police. Koko spent the next few hours licking
* * *
I was glad to move into my friend's posh apartment on the fifteenth floor of the Villa Verandah. Koko seemed happy, too. I think he liked the view. Then one day I came home from work and found a large hole in the green wool upholstery of a fine wing chair. As I examined it, with horror, Koko jumped onto the chair seat and upchucked a green fur ball-still moist!
I immediately phoned the Press Club bartender, who always had the answer to all questions.
He listened and said wisely, "Sounds like an emotional problem. You need a psycatatrist. I can tell you where to find one."
It sounded like a hoax, especially since the address he gave me was on the edge of the red-light district. And I was even more suspicious when I phoned for an appointment and was told to come alone without the cat ... but I was desperate! I reported for the consultation.
It was a tawdry house, but there were cats on every windowsill, and that was promising. I was welcomed by a kindly woman in a faded housedress accompanied by at least a dozen cats who seemed quite well adjusted. She ushered me into the parlor and gave me a cup of tea with the inevitable cat hair floating in it. No matter.
What I learned, after stating the problem, was this: Siamese, when troubled, become wool eaters. My ties and bathrobe were undoubtedly wool. Koko was lonely because he was accustomed to having someone at home all day. He needed a nice little Siamese female for a companion. Neutering would make no difference. They would be quite sweet to each other.... I found this concept extremely interesting.
Now all I had to do was find a little female Siamese....
Panic time! Here I was-a lifelong cat illiterate-involved in matchmaking between temperamental Siamese! I phoned the Press Club bartender for advice once more.
"Call the catteries listed in the Yellow Pages," he said with authority. "Check the classified ads in the paper. Call the pet hospitals!"
I did. My efforts turned up only one available candidate, and the asking price was more than my weekly paycheck at the Fluxion. I was just getting back on my feet financially. I needed to make a down payment on a used car.
Meanwhile I was afraid to leave Koko alone in the borrowed apartment; he might start eating the rugs! Once, as a test, I shut him up in the bathroom, and he howled so continuously and with such volume that there were five complaints to the manager.
Someone suggested selling Koko; it would solve the whole problem.
I considered that unthinkable. Already I felt a kinship with him that was hard to explain.
I'll never forget the frantic search for a companion who would stop Koko from eating wool!
Table of Contents
Most Helpful Customer Reviews
Wouldnt give any stars if possible. Do not recommend. Read like it was written by a kid, not well written like the series. Love the series, and love the author.
I was really dissapointed with this book!! I thought it was like a short story of new things that Lillian Jackson Braun made up about them. But she just took parts out of the cat who... series for this book! I would not recomend this to anyone(well maybe if u havent read the cat who... series and dont plan too!!!)
Though this was a cute book, there were a lot spelling and punctuation mistakes. Don't get the sample, it's only three pages long(; You'll only enjoy the book if you're a super fan who can look past the mistakes.
This was the first book I purchased from "The Cat Who..." series. I wanted to see if I liked the style and characters (who wouldn't?!) Instead of a story, this book has little chapters of anecdotes about the cat characters and it is very cute. It gives you an insight into the cat's personalities. I've since read a few more "The Cat Who..." books and find them very cute and an easy, fun read.
In each and everyone one of ¿The Cat Who¿ mystery books, Siamese felines Koko and Yum Yum play an intricate role. Their human James, Mackintosh Qwilleran, columnist to the Moose County something, shares some thoughts about these felines who enriched his life. Koko came to live with Qwill when his owner died and thanks to the feisty feline with sixty whiskers instead of the normal forty-eight, the murderer was apprehended. Koko didn¿t like being left alone all day and started eating Qwill¿s wool clothing. He had to stop Koko from spitting up the resulting hairballs so he found her a pet of her own, the cat Yum Yum who bonded instantly with the man and his feline. Further anecdotes about Koko and Yum-Yum reveal the personality traits of the Siamese cats and, how they all became a family, and some very interesting adventure they experienced. Fans of ¿The Cat Who¿ series will want to read this adorable anthology that will make a delightful unique holiday present for feline lovers. Harriet Klausner