The Song of Pounce

The Song of Pounce is a fictional story based on a real Pounce cat that had short black and white hair arranged in spots; long, powerful hind legs; and a silly look on his mottled face. He was sickly, unwanted by anyone and finally purchased for twenty dollars at an animal shelter by the author.
The fictional character of Pounce is presented as a discarded young housecat who discovers that being innocent is not a handicap when you are willing to learn, and that danger and difficulties can cement true friendship with others. The story is full of farm animals, wild animals, and strange adventures; but the Pounce cat lives up to his name and boldly pounces on the tragic, funny, simple, and yet sometimes profound events in his life. In The Song of Pounce, he is a teenage cat with all the bright curiosity of youth. Danger is nearby, though the farm seems safe, and Pounce stands up against his youthful desires in order to face it. Young readers are shown how Pounce learns that everyone has the same basic need to be understood, and that personal desires must sometimes be forfeited for the sake of others.
Pounce's search to belong is also captured in this country setting, and it is studied from his viewpoint and that of his companions. Finally, Pounce's own singing helps him realize the poetry that is in every living thing, and it helps him change some of his feelings toward others.

In The Song of Pounce, the injured cat arrives at the farm and his story begins like this.
"How did that get in? Is that another cat?" The deep voice shook the room with demanding authority. The sound swirled around the terrified cat's ears as he squatted, blinking and shaking. A man as large as his sound stepped through the door into the yellow light of the kitchen and stomped his big feet on the rug by the door as he spoke.
A softer, lighter voice quieted his booming. "Hush, Matthew. You're too loud. He can hear mice, you know. Of course it's a cat. I found him hunched by the barn; under the old double plow he was, all scrunched up and wet, poor thing, held there by Wally."
At the sound of his name, the old dog that had followed the man inside waved his tail slowly. His regal bearing and his coat, though matted and wet, revealed the fine heritage of the big, gold and white collie. "Ah, Wall. It's enough. Rest now."
Matthew coughed as he spoke. The cold, wet rain had chilled the big man and he shivered as he slipped out of his dripping raincoat and hung it by the door. Wally turned and settled on the now muddy rag rug, letting out a great sigh as he dropped down.
Pounce continued to shake. He breathed in shallow puffs, the light hurt his eyes, his torn paws stung, and he could not remember the last time he had tasted food. He pulled his matted tail tighter under his body and continued to squat, a trembling and shivering little bundle of wet and torn hair. It was hard to see what color he was under all that mud. Water dripped off his short coat and pooled on the floor.
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