Cougar
"Mister! Mister! Help me, mister! I am all alone in this world, and I don't have nobody to help me, mister, and I'm afraid,
mister! Please help me, mister!"
I had stopped at a convenience store in the country to get directions, and here he was, begging me to help him. Inside
the store I inquired about the kitty. No, he didn't belong to any of them, and no they didn't know from whence he came;
but the owner of the store had gone home to retrieve his gun, because the kitty was bothering the patrons and
scratching their cars, etc., etc.
So, on my way back to my vehicle I scooped him up. My intention was to deliver him to the shelter. I have a policy of
delivering all animals I find away from home that I deem adoptable to the shelter. This one would be no different. Except
that it would be a few days before I would be able to get over that way. In the meantime he would have to reside at my
house.
That is almost always a mistake, because most of the time the critter ends up staying permanently. So this is how
Cougar came to live with me. A sweeter, kindler, gentler kitty has not existed. If any have ever shown their appreciation
for being rescued Cougar certainly has. In time he would be found to have a gum disease and have all his teeth
extracted. But it would take me a time to realize his pain.
Today Cougar lives with me and spends more time in my lap than any other of my furry friends. I could no more live
without Cougar than he could live without me. His teeth have all been extracted, but he can still manage a smile -- even
if it is toothless!
Bonnie
Before I moved to where I am living now, about seven years ago, I never cared about or cared for an animal. Yes, I had
the occasional pet when I was a child. Our family had our share of dogs and cats, but after I grew up I never got involved
with animals.
Things for me got started when I observed a neighbor-relative of mine not doing a proper job of caring for her animals.
She is what is referred to as a "horder." She has probably had as many as a hundred dogs and cats at one time. For
years I observed from a distance, all the time thinking what a wonderful thing she was doing. It is only now, after I have
had a few years experience that I realize how what she was doing, though done with good intentions, was really not a
good thing at all. Most of those animals would have been better off left alone. Even if they had died in the wilderness,
they would have died with more dignity than they eventually did. She kept them alive with food and water, but many of
them suffered horrible diseases, and would have died and been put out of their misery much sooner, had they just been
left alone.
She would not take them to the animals shelter, because she felt that they would have been euthanized, and to her that
would be a bad thing. Of course, I do not like the idea of euthanasation, but in the face of long-term suffering, being put
to sleep is not such a bad thing.
In the end, I managed to rescue nearly all of the animals from her. Most of them are in heaven now, but I still have a few
with me. I took Bonnie from her about seven years ago. Bonnie was the first dog I took. She was all matted and had a
bloody ear. About three years ago she began to develop a mild seizure. Today Bonnie takes phenobarbital twice a day.
Bonnie is a very happy and well-adjusted puppy.
Sheba, Old Man, Smokey, Curiosity, Shadow, and Socks
It all began with Sheba. I did not have an animal, and I did not want one, but there was one hanging around. I lived with
my mother at the time, and my sister who lived next door had a couple dozen cats and a couple dozen dogs, and I
presumed this cat was hers. After a few days of this cat bothering me and begging from me I inquired of my sister and
she said that no, she did not know the cat and it was not one of hers.
As fate would have it, I put some food down for the cat one morning as I was leaving for work, and the rest is history.
Within a day or two another cat was waiting for a handout as I left for work, but this was a much bigger cat and an uglier
cat I had not ever seen before.
The first cat was sleek and beautiful and jet black. The second cat was fat and ugly and dirty and smelled bad and was
gray. In time both cats would grab hold of my heart in a way that my poor old heart had never been grabbed before.
Sheba, the black female, would go on to produce a litter of four males, fathered by "Old Man," the fat, old, gray cat. At
the time I did not claim ownership of the cats since they were on my mother's property, but in the end I would acquire
ownership since no one else wanted the responsibility. I would have all cats neutered and/or spayed. This was my first
crew: Old Man, Sheba, Curiosity, Smokey, Shadow, and Socks. Of this group only Smokey is still with me. It is to my
great sorrow that since this was my first experience with animals I did not do a good job of taking care of them. I learned
the hard way, and the animals I have now benefit from my hard-learned lessons.
It is difficult for me to talk about them, but these are my first love. I think about all of them from time to time. Each one
had his own personality, and with each one in turn I had a special relationship.
Lu Lu
I met Lu Lu one day when I heard her and her brother barking. I was on the back side of my mother's property (she lives
on 5 acres next to me), and two of the dogs over there were making a big fuss at my being in their vicinity. Such barking
I hadn't heard, so I walked over to take a look. In a pen behind my sister's house were a couple of dogs: one was about
twice the size of the other. Big ears and lots of barking: that was their hallmark. However, as soon as I approached the
fence and bent over to give a pat it was all over. I had to cross over the fence and go inside, but when I did Lu Lu and
her brother Skip were all over me. Such loving and sweet dogs have hardly every existed. But otherwise they could
make a racket: barking and barking all the time. Bark, bark, bark!!!
Everyday I would go over and give them some attention and a pat on the head. At this time I had also begun to help my
sister with her animals, buying food and checking on water. I would go in the pen and Skip would go straight for the food,
but Lu lu was more interesting in getting into my lap as I sat on the back porch. Lu Lu would stick her nose inside my
shirt or inside my shirt pocket as if she were looking for a place to hide. In time I would come to realize that at her size
she was very vulnerable to her much larger sibling. Skip, for some reason, had to be separated from any other dogs. I
don't know what it was, but if Skip was allowed to be with any dogs of his size or larger he would do anything he could to
kill that dog. We had to learn this almost the hard way -- he attacked other dogs and drew a lot of blood, but fortunately
no permanent damage. He would not attack smaller dogs. And he and Lu Lu kept up their barking seemingly night and
day: bark, bark, bark!!!
Eventually, I moved Skip and Lu Lu to my place where I could keep a closer eye on them. One day I went to feed them;
Lu Lu came running and jumped into my lap, ignoring the food as long as I was there, but Skip, instead of going for his
food, just lay around and had a lethargic look on this face. This was one of those times where I had to learn a lesson the
hard way. No one had ever told me, and I had no way of knowing otherwise. Skip would be dead within 24 hours from
Parvo. During the next several days I would keep a close eye on Lu Lu, picking her up and holding her close, whispering
in her ear: "Don't you go and get sick on me now."
I had taken the dogs to the vet that day. Parvo was diagnosed in Skip, and Lu Lu had received a shot. Now Skip was
dead, and I was holding Lu Lu and whispering in her ear each day and constantly imploring, "Don't you get sick on me
now."
Lu Lu did not get sick. Oh no, she did not get sick. And she still barks and barks and barks. Just like always