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Zusatztext Praise for Lilian Jackson Braun and the Cat Who series “A master of mystery.”— People “Upbeat prose and amiable characters.”— Publishers Weekly “The mix of crime and cats [is] catnip to readers who like both.”— Chicago Sun-Times “Braun keeps both paws on the side of charming.”— Los Angeles Times Informationen zum Autor Lilian Jackson Braun Klappentext A collection of short stories starring Koko and Yum Yum-the fantastic feline duo from the bestselling Cat Who series. What could be more purrfect for fans of the Cat Who series than 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, you'll discover why Jim Qwilleran 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 catly facts... "The feelings produced by reading about Qwill and his pals can best be compared to that coziest of feelings-having a purring cat on your lap."-Booklist Chapter One 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 ...
