Leonard (My Life as a Cat) by Carlie Sorosiak (best memoirs of all time .txt) 📗

during the day I may come and go as I please; there are chipmunks to chase and trees to climb. (I have figured out, now, how to make my way down.)

“Follow me for a second,” Olive says, using the human door. I trail her onto the porch, icy air nipping at my paws. We shouldn’t stay out for too long, not in this weather, but we love watching the snow fall together. Another human thing. Another way I’m experiencing the world. Before us are snow-covered trees. Maine is like Yellowstone in so many ways: the green of the land, the way forests unfold like a human opening their hands. And I wonder, in all the time I was trying to get to Yellowstone, if I was actually trying to get here instead.

Olive’s breath clouds in the cold. “I can’t believe it’s already Christmas.”

Neither can I. Olive returned to school in September, which was difficult in some ways, but she’s made so many friends this year—human friends. Friends who can properly digest cheese sandwiches, who can go to the movies without being stuffed in a jacket. It’s brought us even closer; she can return home, fix a snack for the two of us, and tell me all about her day.

We have so many days left, so much time to flip through the pages of books and watch I Love Lucy and camp together under incredibly blue skies. I’m sure when it’s all over, I’ll wish for more time. Just another month, or a day, or an hour. I will grasp on to life because I know nothing else. But then another thought will come: that I have lived. That I’ve been given the privilege of existing in this form, on this Earth, with these people—this family who has loved me for everything that I am.

I am Leonard. Her Leonard. Just as she is my Olive.

“Norma knitted you a scarf,” she says, tucking her hands into her enormous pockets. “I mean, Gran knitted you a scarf. She said I can call her Gran, if I want. Anyway, it took her a really, really long time—which is why I’m telling you now. Give her extra headbutts, okay? Now close your eyes. I mean it, Leonard, close them!”

So I do, and when I open them again, when I look up, there is a perfectly circular umbrella suspended above our heads.

“Do you like it?” Olive says. “I thought you should have your very own.” She leans down to me, petting my coat—and I couldn’t have asked for any more than this. Olive is still rescuing me, bit by bit, even now.

You should hear this, if you’re still listening. I don’t understand everything about being human, but I do know a great deal about the soul: how it travels and travels, until it finds someone who feels like home. I’m home now. I’m never letting go.

Olive places the umbrella handle into my paw, helping me grasp it. “Hold on tight,” she says—and to all of it, to every moment, I do.

People say that writing a book “takes a village,” but since this novel has an alien theme, I guess I’ll rephrase: it takes a galaxy.

First, thank you to my family, who’ve encouraged and supported me—and didn’t bat a single eyelid when I said, very calmly and professionally, that I was pitching a book about an alien cat. To my husband, Jago, for tea and copious TV breaks; you are the penguin to my penguin guard. To Dad, for steadily talking me down on a weekly basis and for just being there. I appreciate you. And to Mom, for everything else; this book would not exist without your wisdom, energy, and obscure scientific knowledge.

Huge thanks to my agent, Claire Wilson. Your unwavering support of this book was a life raft in a hurricane. Everyone at RCW, including Miriam Tobin, has been incredible. And, of course, I’ve had the privilege of working with the brilliant Tom Bonnick, whose careful attention has made this book immeasurably kinder, braver, and just, well, better. Thank you to the inimitable Susan Van Metre for her guidance and belief in Leonard. You are all such bright stars.

Everyone at Nosy Crow and Walker Books—you launched my middle-grade career with the greatest care. I couldn’t ask for more wonderful publishers. To the booksellers, teachers, reviewers, and readers who helped I, Cosmo, my middle-grade debut, into the world: you’re magical. Thank you to Waterstones for giving me a one-in-a-million chance.

There are a number of people who’ve been there since the very beginning, and a number who came after. I honestly adore each and every one of you. Grandma Pat, the staff at McIntyre’s, Ellen Locke, Sandy Johnson, Miss Kim, Erin Cotter: three cheers for everyone! Big thanks to Q for the Myrtle Beach memories and for the name.

Now, are you ready? Here are all the cats. Bella, Duncan, Mini Me, Bailey, Sooty, Moonlight, Bert, Mister Smitty, Whiskers, Miss Kitty, Charlie, Abby Cat, that orange cat I used to pet in Camden, Cyrano, and Snowball: I love you, I love you, I love you.

You may be asking: Where can I find a cat like Leonard? You’re in luck! Almost every shelter has excellent kitties waiting for good homes. (These cats might not be aliens—but they’re still filled with love.)

And finally, Leonard really is a family name. Pop, I miss you. Charlie would be so proud.

CARLIE SOROSIAK is the author of I, Cosmo and two novels for young adults. She teaches at Savannah College of Art and Design and lives in Atlanta.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or, if real, are used fictitiously.

Copyright © 2020 by Carlie Sorosiak

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in an information retrieval system in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying,