Rita the Mule

By Howard Lewis

Critique Partner Extraordinaire & Mule Owner

I feel the need to write on behalf of the mule, Rita. Somebody has to support her because she has a bone to pick. The mule doesn’t get near enough respect in Linda’s book.

You see, Rita’s not just some other animal. She’s a hybrid. Her mamma’s a horse, and her daddy’s a donkey. Receiving the best from each, she knows she’s better than either.

This means that she’s braver than donkeys and smarter than horses. Her intelligence is why some people consider her stubborn, but it’s pretty simple. If it doesn’t make sense to Rita, she won’t do it. Before she came to live with Lilly, her human sent her to a local horse trainer with 25 years

of experience and a great reputation. Rita had a lot of fun with him before he gave her back saying, “Mules are different.” The trainer was used to pestering horses into doing what he wanted. It didn’t work with Rita. Of course, once she got Lilly trained, she gave in a lot so she could spend time with her human.

Rita loved Lilly. This human made her feel like a friend instead of a servant. Rita grieved terribly when she lost Lilly. Unfortunately, when Brie met her, the mule wasn’t in the mood to meet another human. The first time Brie tried to put Rita in the trailer, she led the mule up as if she were a horse and asked her to climb in. Rita’s not a horse so she just stood there. Brie pulled on the lead, offered her a treat and slapped her on the butt. Rita just stood there. Brie stamped her feet and screamed her cheese curses. Rita just stood there. Eva finally said something to her. Brie rubbed Rita’s nose, hugged her face, and told her she was most beautiful mule in the world. Rita walked into the trailer.

Around the farm, Rita lets Hank, Eva’s horse, be boss. It’s not that she couldn’t whup him. Of course she could. It’s just that being boss isn’t as important to her as it is to him. Even though she lets him think he’s the leader, she does take great pleasure picking on him. She’ll creep up beside him while he’s grazing so he has to chase her off. When he’s on the other side of a fence, she’ll walk close enough to make him mad but far enough away so he can’t touch her. When in the barn, she’ll pee right next to his stall so he has to smell it.

Just like all equines (horses, mules, donkeys, zebras, etc.) Rita’s a prey animal. Other animals want to hunt and eat her. Unlike those stupid horses who always run away, sometimes Rita wants to fight. Especially if she’s mad. With a half a ton of muscle and bone, a quick, intelligent mind, and a tenacity that won’t quit, she’s never lost a fight.

The mule has an impressive heritage. Rita can do anything horses can do: drag plows, pull carriages or even carry people in saddles. George Washington believed that her kind were better workers than horses and wanted one. Being a picky man, he wanted a mule sired by a Spanish donkey, considered to be the superior asses of the time. After spending years trying to procure the donkey, King Charles III sent him two. Only one survived the trip. George immediately put him to work breeding a series of donkeys and mules. George even rented him out for stud running

newspaper ads describing his outstanding qualities. Mares and Jennies lined up for his service.

Rita and her brothers are sterile. It has to do with chromosomes. People have a standard set of questions when they discover this. Mostly dealing with Rita’s sex. Yes, Rita has brothers and sisters. Yes, even though she can’t reproduce, Rita goes into heat and her brothers want to have sex. Yes, most of the time, Rita’s brothers are “cut” or fixed. There’s no reason to keep them intact if they can’t have babies and removing certain male parts make them much easier to deal with.

Rita knows she’s beautiful, but she was made for function as well. She has a longer face, than horses and her eyes are further around her head. With just a small movement, she can see behind her with one eye and in front of her with the other at the same time. Rita has huge ears that she can independently turn toward whatever she’s listened to. While her right ear listens to her rider, she can turn her left ear to listen to whatever’s up ahead. 

Have I made it clear yet that Rita’s right? She deserves a bigger part in Linda’s book. Let’s start a campaign. Readers for Rita. Give Rita the Part She Deserves. Rita for President.

About the Author

Howard Lewis is a talented writer, martial artist, and a marvelous critique partner. He lives in the "suburbs" of Salem, SC, with a mule, two horses, and multiple dogs. He's the past president of the Upstate Chapter of Sisters in Crime and he's part of the Writers' Police Academy "family." He's provided tons of information on his equines for my new Brie Hooker Mystery series published by Henery Press. The first book, BONES TO PICK, is now available for preorder. THANKS Howard!  

Aunt Eva's Turn in the Kitchen-Making Toffee

By Linda Lovely

My great nephew, Duncan Nowling, and a friend recently visited. In addition to spending time enjoying the lake, Duncan had an in-the-kitchen request. He wanted to learn how to make my mother's (his great-grandmother's) toffee recipe, primarily because it's a key ingredient in our family favorite version of Death By Chocolate.

I'm pretty sure this recipe would also be a favorite of Aunt Eva, a main character in my Brie Hooker Mystery series, since it includes large quantities of her favorite food group--dairy. In this case, the dairy comes in the form of butter. Here's the seemingly simple recipe, since it only has four ingredients:

Two sticks of Butter (plus a pat of butter to grease a nonstick cookie sheet)
1 cup tightly packed light brown sugar
4 Hershey Milk Chocolate bars (1,55 oz bars)
Finely chopped pecans

There are three prep steps before you start cooking.

1. Grease the nonstick cookie sheet (you'll be glad you did later when it's time to lift the toffee off the sheet). 
2. Finely chop the pecans so they'll be ready when you need them. I never measure but I'm guessing 3/4 cup.
3. Open all four Hersey bars and separate the individual squares so they're ready for later use.

Okay, now comes the tricky part, the cooking. Put the two sticks of butter and the light brown sugar in a heavy skillet on a stove burner set to medium heat. Stir CONSTANTLY. When the mixture is nicely mixed and is starting to get hot, you may want to set a timer for 10 minutes. That's about how much longer you'll need to keep stirring the mixture as it bubbles and starts pulling away from the sides of the pan. The trick is to make sure it does pull away from the pan's edges but doesn't burn.

At the end of your stirring vigil, you'll pour the toffee mixture onto your prepared cookie sheet in two ribbons. Now wait about 1 minute and then start placing the individual Hershey squares on the toffee. By the time you have them all on, the first squares you place will have melted enough to spread with a butter knife. Once the chocolate is evenly spread over the entire toffee surface sprinkle the top with the pecans.

Next, put the cookie sheet on a rack to cool. If you put it in the ice box immediately, it increases the risk that the chocolate layer will separate from the bottom toffee layer. But do put the tray in the fridge when it's cool to the touch. After an hour or two in the refrigerator, it will probably be fine to separate it from the cookie sheet with a spatula and then break it into pieces, which you'll need to keep stored in the refrigerator until they're gone (maybe the end of the day).

Writers Beware--Kill An Animal, Risk a Reader

By Linda Lovely

I promise. No dogs (or horses or cats or mules or goats or pigs) will cross over the rainbow bridge in my new Brie Hooker mystery series. The easiest way for an author to offend (and lose) readers is to allow a character in her book to kill an animal. Well, maybe a poisonous snake would be okay, and, if you're Stephen King you can cast a rabid dog as a villain as he did in Cujo.

As an adult, I developed serious allergies to dogs and cats. So I haven’t had a really close relationship with a pet since Brownie, the Heinz 57 mix dog I loved as a kid. In adulthood, I’ve been bitten by a dog while walking and minding my own business. I’ve also been chased by growling hounds who appear to lust after bicycle tires. These encounters led me to make one of my animal characters a villain in Dead Line, the first book in my Smart Women, Dumb Luck romantic thriller series. The villain dog died.

In my defense, the deceased canine is the villain in a brief subplot, essential in providing insight into the snarling attack dog’s far more villainous owner. What’s more, the subplot also features a tail-wagging hero dog who saves my heroine. Any further explanation could act as a plot spoiler. So here’s what these two dogs might say if they could talk.   

• The Villain Dog

I’m only following orders. I was abused as a puppy, and I was trained to fight other dogs. When I growl and savage other dogs, people cheer, and I get food and praise. I’ve been chained up and beaten. I do what I’ve been trained to do in order to survive.  

• The Hero Dog

I love people. Haven’t really met one I wouldn’t lick. They scratch behind my ears, give me yummy treats, and help rid me of annoying fleas. Sometimes they talk baby talk to me even though I’m fully grown. Guess they still think of me as a puppy even though I’m a hard-working adult. Don’t I chase all those obnoxious squeaky squirrels out of our yard? I’m brave, too. I’ll do whatever it takes to keep my humans safe.

Okay, I’ve given my dog characters a say they didn’t get in Dead Line since they weren't afforded speaking parts. Nonetheless, I renew my pledge to avoid any future canine (or other animal) deaths in my books. I’ll stick to killing off literary stand-ins for the people who have seriously annoyed me.

So readers why is it that mystery/suspense/thriller authors can kill kindly, wrinkled grandmothers and clueless, fresh-faced teenagers as often as their plots and murder counts require, but they should never, never, ever kill a dog on the page of a novel?

Why do you think the death of a fictional animal seems more offensive to many mystery readers than the death of a fictional human being?  Like the villain dog in Dead Line, human villains also may have been abused in their youth and rewarded for bad behavior, but we can handle their deaths. Is it because dog is man’s best friend and we have an emotional bond with the species? Is it because humans are supposed to be the protectors of helpless animals? What’s your opinion?