The Autobiography of a Granada Cat: As told to Harley White "They call me Mama-cat and I answer to it, so I suppose that is my name, though it wasn't always. I was born in Andalusia, southern Spain, in Granada, an area that is hot in summer and cold in winter." So begins the picaresque, picturesque tale, true in the telling by its feline protagonist. Her lodging had been the street, along with all its dangers and discomforts, in magical Granada, whose charms were not entirely lost on this resourceful feline, even when in the throes of her own troubles. She describes the old city on the hill, with its labyrinth of narrow winding lanes, often sinister in their twists and turns, the Albaicín's spectacular vistas and crumbling old-style Arabic abodes, full of tourists and passers-by, thieves and outcasts, bohemians, donkeys, dogs, etc. Many original full color photos and illustrations accompany the text, putting the reader into the picture as the yarn unfolds.The great affection she and the lady hold for one another rises above all and dissolves the distinctions of their species. For she also realizes herself as part of a whole web of realities of cause and effect… “If there is any impression I would wish my autobiography to engender, with those readers who have remained throughout, it may be that there are deep dimensions of love (and spheres of its opposites) which resonate eternally– bonds of connectedness that even death cannot destroy.”And, ultimately, the cycle continues… for, in the end, “… the waves of life and death roll on, as they have for thousands of years and shall for thousands more …”