Monday, April 27, 2026

The humble beginnings and true-life tale of Sparky, hero of the Isla Mujeres Mystery Series

 

Chapter 6

Home!

“Oh, you’re back,” Tommy said. He stood up, arched his back, and stretched out his front feet. “Did you enjoy your visit to the cat-doctor?”

My bushy eyebrows shot upwards, “It was awful,” I replied. “The only good thing is these nice people came back for me.”

“Yes, we’re lucky, we have people who love us,” Tommy said.

“What do I call our humans?”

“They have people names, however,” Tommy replied with a bored sigh, “I call the woman Servant and the man Driver.”

“Why did you pick those names?” I asked.

“Because when I first met our humans, that’s how I thought of them. They swap jobs frequently. Sometimes Servant is the driver, and Driver is the servant, but I don’t change their titles.”

“Should I do the same?” I asked.

“Yes. Humans aren’t very smart,” he answered. “It took me fourteen years to properly train them.”

“Okay, I think I understand,” I said. I was not quite two years old in people years; that’s around twenty years old in doggie years. Tommy had already lived fourteen people-years, and that made him an expert.

Eager to learn more from Tommy’s experiences, I carefully studied his actions. He licked his right front paw with his long, rough tongue and wiped the damp paw across his right ear, then repeated the process.

“Are you self-cleaning now?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said, then switched to cleaning himself with his left paw, “it’s called grooming.”

“Could teach me how to do grooming?”

“No, I’m sorry. Cats groom. Dogs get bathed by their humans. That’s how it works.”

“Oh,” I was disappointed. I wanted to be self-cleaning too, like a cat. Then I thought of the many cats still at the clinic. “Do all the animals at the cat-doctor’s place have people?”

Tommy yawned widely, displaying his tongue, sharp white fangs, and pointy teeth. “No, most of the cats are looking for humans to adopt them,” he answered.

“What about the doggies?”

“Some have owners, some are strays,” he said.

I watched in fascination as he stretched his front paws forward, then bowed his head, and arched his back. It seemed to relax him.

“I wish every doggie and kitty had nice people like we do,” I said.

“Me, too, but the cat-doctor and his staff make sure the animals under his care get food, medications, and a safe place to sleep,” Tommy said. “Princess Chica and I were both homeless before we adopted our humans.”

“Oh! ¿Hablas español? Do you speak Spanish?” I hopefully asked. It would be wonderful to be able to communicate in my language.

“No,” Tommy shook his head, “I’m Canadian. Our humans found me in a vineyard in Canada when I was a tiny kitten. I was so small I could fit in the palm of Servant’s hand.”

“You’re lucky,” I said, then scrunched up my face as I thought about what he had said. “How did you get to Mexico?”

“My people didn’t like the cold Canadian winters, so we moved here when I was nine.”

“Wow, that’s amazing,” I said. “I’ve heard that some of my doggie friends have been adopted to homes in Canada.” I shivered at the thought. “I’m sure they don’t like the cold.”

“It’s not cold all the time in Canada, only part of the year. Plus, their people dress them in warm sweaters and jackets, and in time they adjust to the colder weather,” Tommy said. “It’s no different than me with my thick fur moving from Canada to the hotter weather here in Mexico.”

“True,” I agreed, then I thought of something else I wanted to ask. “Is Princess Chica a Mexicana?”

“Yes, she entered our house from the beach. Just like you.”

“Does she speak Spanish?”

“A little, she was very young when she moved in with us, and she has forgotten most of her original language. She still speaks a bit of cat-Spanish. She says it’s different from dog-Spanish.” Tommy said with a shrug. “I don’t understand the difference.”

I thought about that for a bit, then said, “Mexican Spanish is a bit different from the words that people use in other countries, so Chica’s cat-Spanish may be a little different, but it would still be understandable.” I felt quite proud that I could explain something to a much older and wiser cat.

Tommy slowly turned his head and studied me for a moment, “Probably,” he finally agreed. He jumped off the sofa and wandered into the house. He didn’t seem impressed by my knowledge.



Available Coles Penticton, Coles Vernon, Indigo Kelowna, Okanagan Regional Libraries, Thompson-Nicola Regional Libraries, Ruby Blues Winery, SS Sicamous Museum, and on-line book stores.




Saturday, April 4, 2026

The humble beginnings and true-life tale of Sparky, hero of the Isla Mujeres Mystery Series



Chapter 5

I thought they liked me!

They left me! I thought they liked me, then they left me at the cat-doctor’s place. I cowered inside a metal cage listening to the howls and whines of the other animals. I put my paws over my ears to shut out the noise.

What had I done wrong? I tried to be a good doggie. I hadn’t done my business inside the house. I hadn’t chased the cats. I didn’t leave a mess when I ate. I was tidy when I drank water. When I was still covered with bugs and dirt, I napped outside.

What did I do wrong?

I thought I had found a new home, and now here I was trapped in a crate. There were so many other unhappy animals in cages that I howled with uncertainty and fear.

“Shh. Sparky, it will be okay,” a pretty young woman with dark hair and kind brown eyes said to me in a soothing voice. “Easy, baby, we’re going to help you.”

I stopped my howling, but I was still quivering. She was speaking Spanish, and I understood her, except I didn’t believe a word she said. It had to be a trick to make me calm down.

“Come on, sweetie,” she said, lifting me out of the cage. “We have a couple of minor procedures and a few tests to do.”

Procedures? Tests? That didn’t sound good.

But then she held me while the evil cat-doctor stuck something sharp in my neck. I suddenly felt extremely sleepy. I struggled to stay awake, but it was useless. My eyes closed, my body went limp, and I sagged into the assistant’s arms.

“What a good boy,” was the last thing I heard.

A little bit later, when I woke up, I was back in the awful crate. I was stiff and sore, and very thirsty.

“Oh, good, you are awake. I’ll take you to your people,” the same young woman said.

People? I have people? I must be dreaming.

She gently lifted me out of the crate, carried me to another room, and placed me on a tall metal table. Inside the room, the people who brought me here were talking nicely to that cat-doctor.

I tucked my short tail under my bum and crouched low.

The curly-haired woman gently stroked my head and smiled into my eyes. “It’s okay, Sparky, you’re safe,” she said.

“He’s in good health,” the cat-doctor said. “He’s been neutered and checked for heart problems or other diseases. He’s been given vaccinations against both rabies and distemper. We also cleaned his teeth, trimmed his nails, and groomed his fur,” the cat-doctor said with a wide smile.

The curly-haired woman asked the cat-doctor. “What type of mix do you think he is?”

The cat-doctor smiled, “You know this is an island, and the pet genetics go around and around. His ancestors could be anything from a Great Dane to a Chihuahua.”

The woman laughed, “I think he is a pure-bred Mexican low-rider,” she said, motioning to my short legs.

“Exactly, and now he’s ready to go home,” the cat-doctor said.

Home?

Maybe this cat-doctor wasn’t as mean as I thought. He just said these nice people could take me home. I couldn’t help myself, my butt started to wiggle, and I stood up on my back legs to give him a quick little lick on his face.

“I’m so glad he’s okay,” the man said. “We’ve already been shopping and bought him food, a collar, a harness and leash, and a comfy bed.”

The cat-doctor said, “You’re going to have a great life, Sparky.”







The humble beginnings and true-life tale of Sparky, hero of the Isla Mujeres Mystery Series

  Chapter 6 Home! “Oh, you’re back,” Tommy said. He stood up, arched his back, and stretched out his front feet. “Did you enjoy your vis...