I first got the idea for my book, Cold Snap: A Viking Cat Mystery, when I read an article about real-life Viking cats. These brave felines sailed the world in longships, working as mousers for their human counterparts. Having found great amusement watching my own cat for years and trying to decipher what was going on in her head, I immediately wanted to write a story not only with a cat protagonist, but also from the cat’s point of view. Having never done this before, I soon found myself on a wild path filled with the pitter-patter of little paws. Yet, it wasn’t until the book was well on its way that I realized I was writing an unusual book for an unusual audience.

I came to this discovery when people would dutifully ask me what my book was about, and I would proceed to bobble my way through a horrible pitch. “So it’s for kids then,” they’d say, nodding. “My ten-year-old might like it. He’s a little bookworm and talks to crickets nightly. And I mean, nightly.” Patiently, I’d explain that no, it wasn’t for kids. It was an adult cozy mystery. “But it’s about a cat,” they’d reply, their confusion palpable. “And told from the cat’s point of view, right? If I’m not picturing a kitty-cat Pooh Bear right now, I don’t know what I am.”

So yes, let’s talk about writing a book from an animal’s perspective (in my case, a cat) while targeting an adult audience. I’ll confess, this automatic assumption that books with animal characters are for kids has always bewildered me. Nearly 70 percent of American households have pets. That’s roughly 85 million families, and I’m pretty sure these pets aren’t just for the sake of the children. So why do we entertain the idea that only children will love books with animal protagonists? Fictional characters are fictional characters. Some will mirror us and some won’t. Readers don’t have to incubate their own homicidal yearnings to appreciate a good villain. In fact, I think readers are often drawn to characters who are different out of sheer curiosity and a desire to learn. It’s human nature to wonder about those who are dissimilar, and a well-written novel with an animal protagonist can allow us to consider our own human actions and emotions from an outside perspective.

Some adult readers, however, might feel that an animal’s perspective is too limited. That they simply won’t relate to it or that the character won’t have anything useful to say. But really, how could animals not have anything useful to say? Yes, we writers explain their thoughts and behaviors through anthropomorphic terms, attributing our human emotions to them, but like humans, animals are multidimensional beings. They have good days and bad days, they can be happy and sweet, but they can also be depressed or throw tantrums and sulk when they don’t get their way. They have a lot to teach us, especially about unconditional love and living in the present. How could their perspectives be too limited to narrate a story?

That said, when writing my animal characters for Cold Snap, I tried to focus not only on the ways our furry friends are different from us, but on the ways we’re alike (every living being has excitement, fear, love, sadness, hunger, etc. . . right?). This does make them relatable and reachable—the ultimate goal for any character, human or otherwise. And then, the ways in which they are completely different from us humans can stand out as humorous quirks or shocking traits. At the very least, the reader can say, “My God, my cat does that exact same thing. Could this be why?”

Instead of always relegating animals to one-dimensional sidekicks in a story, I think they deserve to play the heroes in their own stories much more often. As writers, let’s not be afraid to cast them as main characters! After all, they too have minds of their own, and great joy and amusement can be found in writing from their perspectives.