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    Furry Fables 2: Cat Tales: Magical Fables: Inspirational Stories: Positive Energy
    Furry Fables 2: Cat Tales: Magical Fables: Inspirational Stories: Positive Energy
    Furry Fables 2: Cat Tales: Magical Fables: Inspirational Stories: Positive Energy
    Ebook97 pages1 hour

    Furry Fables 2: Cat Tales: Magical Fables: Inspirational Stories: Positive Energy

    By Tygo Lee

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    About this ebook

    In Furry Fables 2, spark your imagination once again with these enchanting cat tales that indirectly touch on many of the common challenges and significant aspects of our own daily lives, such as the effects of the lifestyle we choose, our inner happiness, family unity, caring for others, appreciating our differences, friendship bonds, making the most of every moment, and death with dignity.

    With storylines ranging from the the serious to the comical, each of the magical fables has a different theme and principal character that comes in contact and interacts with other beings of the human, animal, and plant worlds. These inspirational stories will motivate you to contemplate your own life's circumstances, so as to improve your relationships with those around you and live more happily and peacefully.

    Furry Fables 2--a part of Tygo Lee's unique collection of entertaining and inspirational stories, magical fables, fairy tales, cat tales, and reflections--where fantasy is magically transformed into reality.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublishereBookIt.com
    Release dateMar 8, 2017
    ISBN9781456627041
    Furry Fables 2: Cat Tales: Magical Fables: Inspirational Stories: Positive Energy

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      Book preview

      Furry Fables 2 - Tygo Lee

      Lee

      Fable 1: Newfound Friends

      Once upon a time there was this wild, little, devil-in-his-eyes kitty named Questioner. He really had not been properly trained or cared for by his mother and as a result, without an adequate education early on he was always asking everybody everything so as to try to understand a little more clearly this big, fascinating world he had been born into.

      A pest! they said of him. A non-stop, frustrating, burdensome, exasperating, questioning pest!

      It was a bright, sunny morning and Questioner had been woken up earlier than normal since one of the first rays of dawn’s light had streaked into his room and focused its penetrating glow precisely on the young kitty’s face. Upon opening his eyes quite innocently in his half-asleep state and being bombarded by the pulsating beams, he sprang out of his kitty bed and stumbled to a halt a couple of feet away.

      What was that? he thought, as he began to lick his front paws and meticulously clean his face, hoping perhaps to wipe off the particles of light that had unexpectedly swooped down upon him when he lie helplessly and peacefully in a deep slumber. It seemed to be working since the burning sensation that he had felt sliding about his pupils was now subsiding and leaving his vision normal once again.

      Calm and relaxed with all systems go, Questioner wandered outside through one of the cracked-open windows of his house and headed off down the street as he liked to do very early every day. The mornings were always joyous moments—a time of awakening and recharged energies, unbridled exploration and adventure, and fortuitous meetings with new felines and many curious things along the trail.

      Actually, it was the mystery itself that was exciting—a mystery for mystery’s sake! It was like a long, rolled-up surprise that was slowly unfolding itself before him, piece by piece, step by step, and encounter by encounter as he ambled around his territory. That daily journey formed a good part of Questioner’s education. That was how he learned about other things and other beings.

      With wide open eyes, alert perky ears, a sharp sensitive nose, and steady untiring paws, he could go about his way with a confident determination. There were no prerequisites for being a student of the school of life except having the curiosity and humility necessary to be able to learn from what was to be found around and about you on your daily path forward.

      Contradicting what was normal among his own species though, predictable was anything that Questioner was not. The only thing predictable about this inquisitive little kitty was that he would always be…unpredictable! Of that you could be assured. And that characteristic is exactly what made the other felines and creatures around him quite nervous and twitchy most of the time.

      Questioner Kitty was bouncing and springing about from one part of the street to another in the most happy-go-lucky kind of way when suddenly he saw this huge shadow looming in front of him. He skidded to a halt in the soft grass growing by one of the sidewalks, sending bits of green missiles flying around his now tense and stiffened little body. He was hesitant to look up for fear of what might be before him, so he hissed furiously at the ground below, hoping that his valiant verbal outburst might cause the ominous shadow to recede and disappear from his view.

      "What could you possibly be hissing at, you silly little creature?" came a booming voice from up above.

      Still looking down at the ground, Questioner meekly replied, "Well, I am, uh, of course, I am hissing at this grass in front of me. Yes, this grass has upset me because of the way in which it has gone flying up around my body, so I am showing my displeasure at its lofty attitude, you see."

      "That’s the worst fabricated story I think I’ve ever heard in my life, you crazy, little ball of fur! Of what species might you be, my shaking, shivering visitor?"

      I am of the species… Gulp! What the…?

      Questioner stopped speechless for a moment as he raised up his gaze in front of him.

      "I’m talking to a tree. A tree! I think, I mean, well…there is no one else around!"

      No, it can’t be! But, who else could I be talking to? I mean…

      "Oh, stop blabbering around like a raving lunatic! Of course you’re talking to a tree. And a tree is talking to you! And you and the tree are having a conversation, of sorts, amidst all your disjointed and confused comments. Now, I asked you a question, didn’t I?"

      Yes, well, uh, yes, Mr. Tree. I…

      I am Troy. Troy the Tree. Why don’t you address me in a proper fashion then.

      "Very well, Mr. Troy. I am Cat, of the species Questioner. I mean, no, that’s not it! I am Questioner, of the species cat. Yes, that time it came out right. I mean…trees can’t talk!"

      "What is wrong with you anyway, Mr. Troy? Why are you doing all that talking when you should just be standing there silently, waving your arms to this side and that side high up in the air?"

      "Why are you talking when it should just be me talking? That’s not right at all! This is mixed up. You are mixed up! Trees never…"

      "Enough, already! Whether trees can talk or cannot talk seems to be a mute point at the moment if you are having a conversation with me, doesn’t it? Shouldn’t that be obvious!"

      "Ah, yes. And now I am recalling details about your cat species, except that you appear to be a miniature version of the previous encounters I have had."

      "Yes, now I remember. It is your kind who sticks their claws into my body and then shimmies up to a point of no return where they can typically not get down again without great difficulty. What a silly species you are! Is that not right, my little Questioner Kitty?"

      "Well actually, yes, but anyway, what’s the deal with the talking, huh! Why are you talking when you shouldn’t be talking and you should just be standing there and…"

      "Not this again! I am getting the feeling that if I do not give you some kind of answer for this question that you will never leave that subject alone, am I right?"

      Well, Mr. Troy, I just think it’s very strange that a tree is talking when it shouldn’t be talking and instead you should just be standing there silently, waving your arms…

      "Okay, already! Yes, a talking tree. Why am I talking—that is the question that must be answered, it appears. My gosh."

      "You see, my little Questioner, I am a very mature tree who has seen countless ages pass before my eyes. And throughout these different periods…"

      "So, what do ya mean? Only old trees can talk, huh? Is that it? Old, weary, raggedy, worn-out trees? And the young trees just hang out silently and watch the stuff that goes by, waving their arms around and…?"

      "I did not… You did not let me finish! And furthermore, I did not say that I was old, but rather, mature. Mature is the word, if you can get that stuck in your dizzying little head for a moment. Now as I was…"

      "So you don’t like to be old? And that’s why you say you’re mature. Is that it, huh? Is that it, Mr. Troy? You want to be mature and not old because old is bad and mature is good, and you have to be old and mature to talk, but then you only say that you are mature and you forget about the old part because…"

      "Oh my heavens! I’m beginning to understand

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