This interview took place on 15 Dec 2023 via video call between Jody Wallace’s cat Mittens and Jim’s dog Bama. Jody Wallace is the indie sci-fi author of CATALYST, which you can download for free by subscribing to her author newsletter.

MITTENS: So, your human writes books. Are they (a) full of praise and hyped up lies about dogs; or (b) do they contain interesting stories? If A, interview is over. If B, you may continue.

BAMA: He does write books. Spends a lot of time on it. Time that could, you know, be used for better things. Like watching me lick myself. Or getting me treats.

MITTENS: If writers are supposed to be so smart, why does your writer have a dog instead of a cat when it’s common knowledge cats are better? Does that mean your writer isn’t very smart?

BAMA: Well now, thing is, I’m mostly Husky (even though I don’t look like it). And as everyone knows, Huskies are the most feline species of dog. But don’t read too much into it: the human’s not very smart at all. He does alright; I mean, he’s a bit of a rescue, you know? Got his own set of weird things going on. But he’s trying his best.

MITTENS: So why did your human end up a writer instead of an animal sanctuary owner or something like that?

BAMA: You know I’m not sure, really. It makes him happy, which he says is important. Unless what makes you happy is eating dental floss out of the bathroom trash, or chasing squirrels into traffic. Then happiness is “off limits” and “dangerous” and “you’re going to die why are you like this.”

MITTENS: Are there other dogs, cats, animals, or anything like that in your human’s life that help inspire their books?

BAMA: Oh, there was another dog. Gunner. Big sloppy toy-obsessed Yellow Lab. Did nothing but fetch fetch fetch. Jim says he took him to live on some kind of farm a few months ago. Been moody ever since, eyes sometimes get leaky. I mean I get it—Gunner was a lot to live with, always needing attention, right under his feet or at his side everyday all the time. I’d be emotional, too, if I got all that time and personal space back.

MITTENS: As a dog, you’re probably not devious or fascinating, but on the off chance you do have feline traits, what are your techniques for distracting your human during crucial writing moments?

MITTENS: I am a fan of the classics. Bark to go out, then don’t go out. Bark and scratch when he closes the door, until he opens it again. Finally go out, bark to come in, then don’t come in. I learned that one from the neighbor’s white Persian, by the way. Whiskers is his name: good kid, really going places.

And I make it my own, you know? Bolt out the basement door, then run up the deck stairs and bark to be let in the other door. Gotta keep the humans active. Movement is medicine.

MITTENS: What indignities and neglect have you suffered because of your human’s writing career (besides the absence of a cat to properly rule the house)?

BAMA: I am so glad you asked, but I have to give you a trigger warning first: if late feedings bother you, stop reading now.

So sometimes, when Jim’s “on a roll,” he’ll make me wait for my precious, precious kibbles. And I don’t mean like waiting to cross the street—we’re taking minutes I must suffer with grumbly tummies. I wish such penance on no one.

MITTENS: We’ve established your human doesn’t write stories full of hyped up lies about dogs. Tell me about the felines in your human’s fiction. How often do they appear and how big a part do they play?

BAMA: I had to ask him about this one. And boy did he go on and on (and on) about his work in progress. Said there’s a Persian cat in this story, which you remember Whiskers from earlier, right? Good kid, strong profile, really going places. Anyway, this sci-fi novel is a sequel. In the first story one of the characters is a dog named Neils Bork. Jim says that this follow-on will feature a cat with another science-y name pun.

MITTENS: Since you are a dog, I suppose you can tell us about the dogs in your human’s books, too, and why dogs appear in the books.

BAMA: Well we discussed Neils Bork already. In Gradient Descent, saving Bork sets the whole story in motion. In his other series, there’s a labradoodle named Barfly. Plays side-kick to this kid Emerson, who can see auras and heal people. Also he adds birds to his stories a lot. Crows. I dunno, the guy likes birds for some dumb reason.

When I asked him why he puts animals in his stories, Jim blabbered something about it being easier to relate to dogs and cats and birds than it is to humans. Which, and I’m sure you agree, is obvious. Humans are so weird. Right? Like, why do they do that thing where they open the fridge three times before remembering what food they want? Or that stupid, stupid “daylight savings” thing that somehow makes dinner time the wrong time every six months? Silly, silly creatures living silly, silly lives really.

MITTENS: When your human gets together with other writers, do they spend half their time sniffing each other’s butts like dogs do?

BAMA: Oh I hope so. I don’t like to think of him missing out. It’s the fastest way to read someone’s story, you know?

MITTENS: What is your human’s next project (bonus points if you answer: getting a cat)?

BAMA: Nah, no new pets for a while. He said so, then mumbled about Gunner some more. Which is fine with me. I mean, I’m more than he can handle all by lonesome.

Right now he’s spending his time on the sequel to Gradient Descent: Schrödinger’s Dog, which is titled Gradient Descent: Theory of Anything. He’s got another book he’s editing, some kind of crime thing, no animals, I dunno I stopped listening when I realized he had no treats on him.

Been great “catting” with you Mittens, but I’ve got an appointment and, it’s not like my butt’s gonna rub itself on the carpet, right? Take care of yourself, and good luck with your silly human.