Can I Keep It?

One of the realities of life when you have kids is their longing to acquire pets. Dogs, cats, guinea pigs, hamsters... the list is endless. In this day of pampered pets, it's hard to envision a time when the dog was not allowed in the house. The cat was an outside cat. And no one even considered taking either one to the vet. People could hardly afford a doctor for themselves--let alone an animal.

When one of my puppies was hit by a car, my father borrowed a gun and put it down. That was harsh pragmatic reality. Veterinarians were few and far between and primarily dealt with farm animals.

Under those conditions, acquiring a pet takes on an completely different aura of responsibility. So the day my eleven-year-old son showed up with a tiny kitten, claiming it followed him home, I was less than enthusiastic about his new acquisition. In the two years before then we'd lost a number of pets. And as much as some people rationalize that losing a pet will teach children about death, I'm not sold on that, either.

After some discussion, the kitten was banished to the grape arbor as all the kids banded together to hide it from their dad who'd declared No More Pets!

Of course, we immediately had several days of extremely hot weather, topped off with violent thunderstorms. So each afternoon, someone would feel sorry for the kitten and bring it inside the house where it was dry--and air-conditioned. And inevitably, the house hunk came home early from work one day and discovered the kitten curled up on the end of the couch.

Up to this point, you may have noticed that said kitten didn't have a name. When the hunk picked up the kitten, intent on ejecting her from the house, she snuggled up close to his chest and purred. He fought the good fight. Really, he did. Maybe for five minutes or so. And then he said, "If we're going to keep her, she needs a name. And she can't go outside because I'm tired of burying pets. She'll be an indoor cat!"

That's how Pattie the traveling cat came to live with us. When we were transferred from Houston to New York state, she stayed behind in a kennel until we were settled. Then in one day, she traveled on a plane, a train, a bus, and finally a car to our new home. By then, she was one whacked out kitty.

Pattie lived with us for seventeen years. Inevitably, one day she slipped out an open door to explore the great outdoors. Since she didn't move as fast as when she was younger, she lost the race she had with a car driving down our street. After seventeen years, she was a member of the family. We all felt her loss keenly. But we have some fond memories of the kitten who followed my son home.

anny

Time to say goodbye...

When you first acquire a pet, the furthest thing from your mind is how you will feel when your pet dies. I have had many dogs, cats, gerbils, guinea pigs, birds, and hamsters so the death of a pet is not new to me. But today I find myself faced with something I've never dealt with before. Always before my pets died suddenly on their own. Just boom! Or in the case of the dogs or cats, many of them died because they ran in front of a car.

But my current dog was diagnosed with bone cancer today. The vet estimates somewhere between three to six months before the time comes that we will have to be humane and let her go. I've never had to watch a pet slowly pass away.

At the moment, she's very alert and pretty perky except for the huge bone mass on her front knee. She moves slowly and we will have to be careful that she doesn't break the leg. Stairs are tough. And we came home with a bottle of pain killers. The vet said when these no longer work we can put her on something a little stronger. When that doesn't work...it will be time to say goodbye.

She's been a good and faithful companion, keeping me company while I write, while I paint, while I sleep. She follows me from room to room as I move around my apartment, always keeping me in sight. She's travelled to Texas, Arkansas, Florida, and New York with us. She's a well travelled dog.

She's been camping, stayed in fine hotels, gone to the beach, and slept under the stars. She loves squirrels. And deer and rabbits. She'll face down the biggest dog around. She had my daughter's St. Bernard convinced that she was the boss. Tiny dogs terrify her. Can't imagine why.

She's gentle and loving and fiercely protective. She's under the impression that the entire apartment building is "hers" so she doesn't bark at the other tenants or their dogs, but strangers will raise a noisy alarm from her.

I don't have a lot of time left with her, so I'll be spending what time I can just being together. If I seem a little distracted or absent minded, then I hope you'll understand while I take the time to say goodbye.

Anny