I think having an animal in your life makes you a better human. – Rachel Ray, Americann professional cook (1968-)
Animals have a much better attitude to life and death as we do. They know when their time has come. – Emmylou Harris, American singer, songwriter (1947-)
My first pets were goldfish. It didn’t last long because I’d pick them up and they died. We got a cat, black as night and called “Inky.” Inky climbed into a neighbor’s car. When the neighbor discovered Inky, she put her out. Momma spent days knocking door to door trying to find Inky while I cried a river. I walked home from elementary school because it was about catty corner to my house. The neighbor boy, Don Cobb, hollered out, “Your cat Inky’s home.” I hollered back at him, “You are such a liar!” Don once put a bumble bee in my hand and told me he had taken the stinger out. The bee stung my hand. He was a liar.
Once in the house momma said go to your room. There was Inky asleep on my bed. Okay, so that one time Don wasn’t lying. Inky passed away, and I was left with no pets. Sometime later momma and I were attacked by a German shepherd. Momma threw herself in front of me and the dog bit momma’s arm. By then the owners dashed out to get the dog and made apologies. Thereafter I was terrified of dogs.
Momma said the next pets I would have would be after college. The first week after graduation I got a black and white peek-a-poo named Natasha, named from War and Peace. Natasha would upturn plants in the house and drag them across the carpet while I was at work. A friend said, “She’s lonely. Get another one and they’ll be fine.” So, I did, all the time wondering if having two dogs would be two times worse. It worked like a charm. Natasha and Abby lived for 16 years.
Later I took in stray cats that showed up or were offered. Daisy had kittens under the house. When they were weaned, I offered them to a dairy farmer who was glad to take them. Annabelle came from a physical therapist who found the cat hit by a car and survived. The cat settled in by a bush outside the therapist’s door. She feared a patient could be tripped by the cat so Annabelle came home with me. Annabelle also had a long life.
Before Annabelle died, I met a dog owner and her Great Pyrenees. I was enthralled and located a Great Pyrenees, named her Tess. Pyrenees are beautiful and faithful dogs. Tess died in an accident. It always breaks your heart when you lose a pet.
I replaced Tess with a male Great Pyrenees named Jesse. I took in an all-white cat from my veterinarian who failed to mention that 80% of all white cats are deaf. Once I adapted to Jack’s deafness we got along fine. He learned my hand signals and loved grabbing on to Jesse’s tail to drag him around. Jesse was a gentle dog and passed away at 11 years as is their usual lifespan.
Lastly were the two foundling cats Harry and Wilhelmina. I’ll never know the answer to Harry’s disappearance. I’m paying careful attention to Wilhelmina and her limited vision.
The love you give is the love you get.
Shannon Bardwell is a writer living quietly in the Prairie. Email reaches her at [email protected].
You can help your community
Quality, in-depth journalism is essential to a healthy community. The Dispatch brings you the most complete reporting and insightful commentary in the Golden Triangle, but we need your help to continue our efforts. In the past week, our reporters have posted 34 articles to cdispatch.com. Please consider subscribing to our website for only $2.30 per week to help support local journalism and our community.
You can help your community
Quality, in-depth journalism is essential to a healthy community. The Dispatch brings you the most complete reporting and insightful commentary in the Golden Triangle, but we need your help to continue our efforts. In the past week, our reporters have posted 34 articles to cdispatch.com. Please consider subscribing to our website for only $2.30 per week to help support local journalism and our community.
