By Kait Carson

Writers are famous for their love of animals. There’s John Steinbeck and Charley. Not every dog goes on a field trip with his owner and returns immortalized in print and film. E. B. White’s dog Minnie didn’t appear in any of his works, but there are photos of her perched on his desk overseeing his writing. When the New York chapter of the ASPCA accused White of harboring an unlicensed dog, he assured them Minnie was licensed. In the State of Maine. Then there was Gertrude Stein and Basket. Stein claimed the sound of Basket drinking his water taught her the difference between sentences and paragraphs. A valuable lesson for a writer.

In the realm of the unusual, Muriel the goat inspired Muriel the goat in George Orwell’s Animal Farm. Charles Dickens’ pet raven Grip appears in Barnaby Rudge and may have inspired Edgar Allan Poe’s The Raven. Grip’s taxidermied body resides at The Free Library of Philadelphia, where he presumably still inspires writers.

And in a shout-out to cats, Sneaky Pie Brown, Rita Mae Brown’s rescued brown tiger cat, inspired and co-writes the Mrs. Murphy series. I’m not sure about the writing part, but she definitely autographs books, so you never know. Ernest Hemingway considered cats his muses. Not only was he frequently photographed with them, he taught one to drink—whiskey and milk. A dubious achievement. That museum for the protection of his cats thing in Key West, though. False. Both his wife, Mary, and his son, Patrick, have said there were no Hemingway cats in Key West. His cats were in Cuba. The polydactyls belonged to a neighbor. Hemingway had peacocks in the Keys. No matter. The Key West cats are well protected and living like rock stars. It’s all good.

What is the attraction? Why do so many writers, past and present, rely on their pets? As with everything else in life, there is no one answer. Writing is hard work, and it can be lonely. There is nothing as nonjudgmental as a well-loved pet. No matter what kind of day you are having, whether the words flow or the muse has deserted you, to your pet—you are a god(dess). And speaking of the muse, pets are the ultimate ones. Just ask any of the writers named above.

Cub reads with a critical eye

My cats never get upset when I pace the floor and tear at my hair. They don’t mind when I look at them in despair and try to explain a plot problem over and over and over again. Instead, they listen quietly, purr when petted, lack the ability to roll their eyes in horror, and fall asleep when I hit on the solution. It’s amazing how they do that. It never fails.

Piper has opinions

While cats cannot roll their eyes, they can make close to three hundred different facial expressions. Granted, most of those occur in feline-to-feline communication, but they also use them to communicate with their servants, I mean their humans. As part of my editing process, I read my work aloud. Often to a cat sitting on the desk, who can be my toughest critic. Sometimes, I wish they weren’t quite so expressive.

In addition to serving as a muse, pets can also be an inspiration. I’m proud to announce my essay, “911 What Is Your Emergency?” appears in Chicken Soup for the Soul, Pets, Pets, Pets. My polydactyl cat, Starlight, provided the inspiration the night she dialed 911. The book releases on Tuesday. https://amzn.to/42qZIs5