"Dewey" by Vicki Myron

After having my share of the Holocaust, time travel, and murder and mayhem, I needed something to warm my soul. Dewey has been sitting on my bookshelf for a few months, waiting until I needed him, and now was the time.

I was born and raised on a farm in the middle of nowhere in Indiana. I grew up surrounded by dozens of cats. Even now, in the big city of Orlando, I have four underfoot. I knew this book was going to touch me. How could it not? Look at that sweet little face, handsome and regal, posing for the camera. I shed my first tear on page 11.

I doubt I need to provide much of a synopsis, but I hate to assume I am the last to read this book. On the coldest morning of one Iowa winter, in the small town of Spencer, Vicky Myron opened up the book return box at the local library to find a tiny, scared, frozen kitten. She gave him a bath (!?), some food, some love, and the rest was history. We cat lovers all think our own kitties are God's gift to us. But this cat really did have something special. He greeted library patrons at the door, sat in the laps of those who needed company or comfort, rode the book cart like it was his personal limo, attended meetings held at the library, and draped himself on the shoulder of anyone willing to let him. He made special connections with the homeless, the disabled, the sick, the lonely. He was calm, patient, and had an innate sense for the people who needed him the most. These are not qualities you often see in the feline persuasion, who are known for their independence, freakishness, and narcisism. For all these reasons, plus alot of karma, this cat became a national and international celebrity. Dewey put Spencer on the map.

You might ask how one could write a whole book about a cat. But there is more to the story than just Dewey. It is about the unique way of life in the heartland, where the library is the center of the community, where everyone looks out for each other. It is about a community that had hit rock bottom, and through it all, adopted this kitty as their innocent, furry mascot. The story is also about the librarian who found Dewey, and how the cat gave her a purpose. Vicki Myron had divorced her alcoholic huband, become a single mom, had lost two family members to cancer and one to suicide, survived breast cancer, become estranged from her daughter, and struggled to get her education while working a full-time job. This cat was her emotional rock to lean on.

How can you put into words what it is like to lose an animal that is such a presence in your life, and in the life of an entire town? (Or in the life of the country, for that matter.) Most of us have been there, felt the impact that a pet can have on your psyche, and perhaps this is why this novel has touched so many. No, this is not classic literature, but I don't think Ms. Myron ever aspired to this. She just wanted to share the story of a little country library cat that touched alot of lives. I dare you to read it and not cry!