A recent tidbit circulated through local blogs about a little black kitten with a kink in its tail that went missing from Twice Sold Tales, a used bookstore on Capitol Hill, earlier in the month. It's sad about the cat, especially if it was truly taken. In a city where thousands of unclaimed cats are euthanized every year, who needs to snatch one from a good home, er, store? My advice to would-be catnappers: Steal a book about a cat and then go adopt one.

But the item got me thinking and eventually driving over to John and Broadway to visit this cat-friendly bookshop. It's been awhile, but as soon as the musty smell of old pages and dusty jackets laced with eau-de-litter filled my nose, it all came back.

Today, I counted five felines. A little white and black cat grooming on duct-taped carpet, an orange cat darting behind the counter, another black-and-white sleeping in the fantasy section, a gray cat curled invitingly in the window next to a great looking edition of the The Lord of the Rings trilogy, and another curled in a customer's lap. These two achieved a profile of such sleepy intimacy, I felt like I was invading their space and so promptly left without exploring a promising Poe in their aisle. I'm guessing the scratchy boards and toys, platforms and climbing posts all around the shop see most of their action at night.

It's true that people either love Twice Sold Tales or they hate it -- often in direct proportion to their feelings for cats. But as a lover of books and cats, the set-up suits me just fine.

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