"We're just going to look." Helen Brown had no intention of adopting a pet when she brought her sons, Sam and Rob, to visit a friend's new kittens. But the runt of the litter was irresistible, with her overlarge ears and dainty chin. When Cleo was delivered weeks later, she had no way of knowing that her new family had just been hit by a tragedy. Helen was sure she couldn't keep her—until she saw something she thought had vanished from the earth forever: her son's smile. The reckless, rambunctious kitten stayed. Through happiness and heartbreak, changes and new beginnings, Cleo turned out to be the unlikely glue that affectionately held Helen's family together. Rich in wisdom, wit, heart, and healing, here is the story of a cat with an extraordinary gift for knowing just where she was needed most.
Praise for
“Helen Brown’s remarkable memoir took me on a journey that threatened to break my heart, and right when I thought I couldn’t possibly bear to read another word, I realized that she didn’t break my heart at all—she opened it.”
—Beth Hoffman,
“Possibly the next
—
“Heartwarming, fun, and romantic.
—
“This is an absolute must gift for yourself or a cat-loving friend.”
—
“Helen Brown’s Cleo is not just a tender story about a cat and a family facing the world again after a family bereavement. It’s also an epic, genuinely moving, funny, and ultimately, uplifting. Don’t be surprised to find yourself smiling through tears after reading it.”
—Witi Ihimaera, author of
“In the tradition of
—
“A warm, poignant tale about the sheer force of a cat’s personality and the joy and healing it can bring.”
—
“A beautifully told story of loss, love, and finally, peace and acceptance.”
—John Morrow,
“Heartwarming and life-affirming—it’s easy to see why it’s been on the Australian and New Zealand bestsellers list since it was published.”
—Kerre Woodham
“To say that gifts of inspiration, hope, and pure love emanate out of every page would be an understatement.”
—Leukaemia Foundation
“A heartwarming, tear-stained ride told with great charm and humor.”
—Jillian Devon,
The Cat Who Mended a Family
HELEN BROWN
CITADEL PRESS
Kensington Publishing Corp.
Choice
A Name
Loss
The Intruder
Trust
Awakening
Taming the Beast
Healer
Goddess
Resuscitation
Compassion
Huntress
Letting Go
Observer
Indulgence
Replacement
Rebirth
Risk
Resilience
Openness
The Kiss
Exposure
Respect
People and Places
Freedom
Witch’s Cat
Absence
Patience
Missing
Purr Power
Connection
Forgiveness
Conversion
Tough Vet, Soft Vet
Renewal
Acknowledgments
“We’re not getting a kitten,” I said, negotiating our station wagon around a bend the shape of a pretzel. “We’re just going to look at them.”
The road to Lena’s house was complicated by its undulations, not to mention the steepness. It snaked over what would qualify as mountains in most parts of the world. There wasn’t much beyond Lena’s house except a few sheep farms and a stony beach.
“You said we could get a kitten,” Sam whined from the backseat before turning to his younger brother for support. “Didn’t she?”
The backseat was usually the boys’ battleground. Between two brothers aged nearly nine and six the dynamic was predictable. Sam would set Rob up with a surreptitious jab that would be rewarded with a kick, demanding retaliation with a thump, escalating into recriminations and tears—“He punched me!” “That’s ’cos he pinched me first.” But this time they were on the same side, and my usual role of judge and relationship counselor had been supplanted by a simpler one—the Enemy.
“Yeah, it’s not fair,” Rob chimed in. “You said.”
“What I said was we
“No, she wouldn’t. Golden retrievers like cats,” Sam replied. “I read it in my pet book.”
There was no point recalling the number of times we’d seen Rata disappear into undergrowth in pursuit of an unfortunate member of the feline species. Since Sam had given up trying to become a superhero and thrown his Batman mask to the back of his wardrobe, he’d morphed into an obsessive reader brimming with facts to destroy any argument I could dredge up.
I didn’t want a cat. I probably wasn’t even a cat person. My husband, Steve, certainly wasn’t. If only Lena hadn’t smiled so brightly that day at our neighborhood playgroup when she’d asked: “Would you like a kitten?” If only she hadn’t said it so loudly—and in front of the kids.
“Wow! We’re getting a kitten!” Sam had yelled before I had a chance to answer.
“Wow! Wow!” Rob had echoed, jumping up and down in his sneakers with the holes I’d been trying to ignore.
