Cat Shout for Joy cover

Cat Shout for Joy

by Shirley Rousseau Murphy

(Joe Grey Cat Mystery Series, Book 19)


Morrow (a HarperCollins imprint), 2016
Hardcover: ISBN 0062403494
Paperback: Avon, ISBN 0062403508
E-book: HarperCollins
Large print: Harperluxe, 0062440217
Audiobook: Download, CD, and digital rental

While Joe Grey and Dulcie joyfully await their first kittens, they grieve for the old yellow cat, Misto, whose time on earth is drawing to an end. But Misto tells them an exciting afterlife lies ahead for him; and he sees, as well, an adventurous future for the kittens: Among the litter will be a little calico returned from the distant past. She will be born with the same unique markings as in ancient tapestries and paintings, and with the same indomitable spirit as Joe Grey. As Joe and Dulcie stand by for the birth of their kittens, they work swiftly to unmask a killer, a predator attacking the most vulnerable citizens in the small coastal community of Molena Point.

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Quotes from the reviews

"Cat fans will love Murphy's complex and intelligent feline characters and the special relationships they share with their human housemates." --Publisher's Weekly, February 8, 2016

"The characters, both feline and human, are realistic in thought and action and spring vividly to life. . . . Trust me, if you like cat mysteries, you will find joy in Cat Shout for Joy! --Audry Lawrence, Fresh Fiction, March 10, 2016

Excerpt from the story

Before Joe arrived at Misto’s cottage, when Dulcie and the old cat were alone together, he’d given her a.deep, steady look. “Life and death hang in balance, now, Dulcie. My life is ending. But you, alone, guard new lives.”

How could he know that? She had looked at him, shocked, her green eyes wide.

But then she smiled. Of course Misto would know her most private secret. How often did the old cat know what was in another cat’s mind, what lay hidden in the past or even ahead in the future. How often did Misto divine secrets Dulcie could never dream.

“As the end of my days draws near,” he’d said, “three bright new lives have begun for you, my dear. Oh, yes,” he’d said, twitching a whisker. “Three dear little lives snuggled safe and warm in your most secret world. And,” Misto had said, studying her, “you have not yet told Joe Grey.”

She had told no one. Except her human housemate, because how could she not tell Wilma, when Dulcie threw up her breakfast every morning?

But yet Misto knew, with those same powers that let him remember ages long past and let him see into the future. “Three kittens, three tiny mites,” he’d said, “snuggled within, secret and warm and happy.” And he had known more than that about her unborn kits; he had said, with a faint and, ragged purr, “Three strong babies waiting eagerly to be born, two boy kits, and a calico girl.

“And,” he had told her, “there is an amazement about the calico kitten. She . . .” But he began to yawn, and before he could continue the old cat had drifted into sleep, as was often the way since his illness. Maybe it was the medication sending him dozing, or maybe he thought he had said enough. Dulcie only knew that now, prowling the roofs in the cold fog, she fidgeted with unanswered questions. What had Misto started to tell her? What about her girl kitten, what amazement?

And, though she longed to tell Joe Grey about the kittens, still she didn’t know how to tell him. What would Joe say when he learned that new little lives waited within the dark of her sheltering body? Would he want kittens, this tomcat whose very existence was committed to the exciting dangers of tracking human criminals? To the uncertainties of helping the law, of apprehending evil? Would fatherhood hold him back from what he was born to do? Would rallying around helpless babies, while burning to chase after human scum, only make him restless and cross? Joe Grey was not an ordinary tomcat to casually father a litter and then disappear. Would the innate commitment, the very responsibilities of kittens, his kittens, only distress him?

And, she wondered, if she told Joe about the kittens now, would that news make Misto’s impending death seem even more cruel by comparison? As if the inestimable powers of the universe meant to take Misto’s life in exchange for the three new lives soon to be?

She knew that made no sense. But would such an idea strike Joe, as he grieved for their dying friend? Would such thoughts make him turn away from her joyous secret?

Or was the intention of the greater powers not to exchange life for life, but instead to fill the emptiness, once their friend had departed? To bring new happiness into their world through these young, fledgling spirits?

No matter how she pondered the question, she didn’t know how to tell Joe. And she didn’t know when to tell him. Now, as they watched the foggy streets, still she kept her own counsel. Though she was amused that Joe hadn’t already guessed, by the look of her. She liked to think she was still svelte and sleek, that no one would see her condition. But when at home she posed before Wilma’s full-length mirror looking at herself sideways, she could see the gentle curve of the babies that waited safe beneath her tabby-striped fur.

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