A Letter to the Reader
by Sneaky Pie Brown
I had to write a cookbook. Really. After years of living with
a human and observing others of the species, I realized they
couldn't catch a mouse much less bite its head off.
My first idea was to discuss the refinements of hunting and
disemboweling prey, but my editor, Beverly Lewis at Bantam
Books, demurred. I dismissed this at first thinking "Oh,
she's just another squeamish human." During a casual discussion
with the dog (corgi), I mentioned Beverly's response.
"She's right. I don't even want to hear about mole tartar
and I'm a dog. Put in recipes about tuna, ground beef for
me maybe, and human stuff, you know, cakes, sweets. They
"Tuna casserole," Pewter piped up.
The gray cannonball, reposing on her side on the kitchen table
where she is not supposed to be reposing, thinks only of her
stomach. That's why that cat is always on the kitchen table.
She even opens the cabinet, throwing canned food on the floor.
Crash. Boom, and then you hear the can roll. Drives mother
crazy. One time Pewter threw down a can of baby peas.
"You don't eat peas," I said.
"No, but imagine how it will confuse Mom," she giggled.
You get the picture of our household.
The more I thought about Beverly and Tucker's response, the
more I saw the reasoning behind the human and canine viewpoint.
I hate to give a dog credit for anything.
So I set out to collect recipes. Pewter wore me out with
suggestions, all her favorites and all meat dishes. I had to
sift through the avalanche.
Mother even contributed a few recipes from the family cookbook
going back to the 19th century and possibly beyond. The
Buckinghams save or promote anything to do with frolic, food
being one such pleasure. I hesitate to mention the others,
and we know that Mother is a Buckingham on her mother's side.
That explains a lot, I think.
I even marched myself into the chicken coop. Oh, the feathers
flew, lots of cackling and poop aimed directly at me, but I
persevered. Not one chicken had a recipe. I knew they were
stupid, but I didn't think they were that stupid. Finally I
wrenched a story out of them about a picnic we'd had a few
years back. I'd forgotten. I put that in the cookbook.
With lots of help from friends and family, I chose recipes
for cats, dogs, horses, and humans. I tested every one that
didn't have greens. Mother tested those. Pewter, Tucker,
and I even ate the orange cinnamon buns. What a sacrifice.
Mom turned her back and three buns had disappeared. We'd
have gotten away with it except that Pewter had icing on her
whiskers. I tried to explain that cats are carnivores and
we only ate a bun to help the cause. Fell on deaf ears.
It's awful to be chastised when you're doing right. I had
my revenge when Mom made herself a mayonnaise sandwich and I
shook lots of cat hair in it when she wasn't looking. No,
that isn't in the cookbook. I wouldn't dream of telling you
what my human eats. We'll leave it at the mayo sandwich.
The devil of it is she's healthy as a horse.
Barnes and Noble, being the industry leader, will have many
copies of my cookbook enhanced with illustrations wherein I
am prominently featured.
I hope you like the book. If you don't, don't tell me. I
have enough to worry about.
Yours in Catitude,
Sneaky Pie Brown
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Sneaky Pie's Cookbook for Mystery Lovers
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