Musings
an Online Journal of Sorts
By Alyce Wilson
Considering how much time I now spend with my dog, as a freelance writer/editor, it occurred to me that I could trace my life through a series of pets.
Catty: I don't remember what Catty looked like, but I remember she used to hide under the couch and I kept trying to pet her. She scratched me more than once.
Perry: While I named Perry, a gentle beagle-mix, I thought it would be spelled "Peary," like the pear. He was hit by a car when I, about 3 at the time, opened the gate to the back yard and accidentally let him out.
Apple: I named Apple, as well. He was a tabby cat with orange highlights who would later go wild after we moved to a new neighborhood, when I was 5. I think he was besotted with the trees. My brother claimed later he saw him sometimes in an abandoned house nearby.
Robbie: A tall, gangly white dog with brown splotches and a crazy streak, Robbie once jumped out the window of a moving car. He also jumped from the second floor of our new house, after we moved, when I was about 5 or 6. He survived by landing on the higher portion of the sloping yard. When Robbie grew aggressive, my parents took him to the ASPCA; it was the only time they ever did so with a pet.
Muffet
and Pumpkinseed: These sisters were born when I was about 10 to the
cat of an elderly neighbor. I named Muffet (pictured), who was a charcoal
and black tabby, after the nursery rhyme "Little Miss Muffet"
and Pumpkinseed, a tabby with orange highlights, after a short story.
We thought perhaps their father was Apple. Muffet and Pumpkinseed both
escaped while being brought home from the vet's, though on separate occasions.
We found Pumpkinseed, struck dead on the road, months later and buried
her in the back yard. Muffet never turned up, and people who lived in
the farmhouses there claimed that she'd taken up with a younger female
cat and was often seen wandering the area. Ever since Muffet and Pumpkinseed,
we use cat carriers.
Buster the Crab: My brother had a hermit crab for long enough that he grew into several different shells. This was while my brother was about 5 or 6, not quite old enough yet to care for a bigger animal. My parents named him after the silent movie actor, Buster Crabbe.
Ribbsey:
My brother and my Mom brought Ribbsey home from the ASPCA. She was
a beagle/poodle mix, a beagapoo, and she was a fluffy mutt who looked
a lot like the television dog Benji, and looked nothing like the dog in
the book by Beverly Cleary, though my brother loved the book so much he
named her that anyway. When Muffet and Pumpkinseed first met her, they
were frightened but soon grew used to her. In later years, Ribbsey was
a nervous peer, and would pee whenever she was happy, sad or frightened.
She lived out her long years with my father after my parents separated.
Snyder:
After this friendly coon hound mix followed my brother around at Vacation
Bible School, my brother convinced us to take him in. He named the dog
after his fourth grade teacher, because it sounded like a sophisticated
name. Snyder was a goofy dog with a thick black coat that resembled a
seal's fur. He loved to splash in puddles, have his back scratched, and
play hide-and-seek with my sister, where she would hide somewhere in the
house and call him until he found her. As an elderly dog, he befriended
my Pop-Pop, who'd come to live with my mom. Nicknames: The Nose,
Snyder the Spider.
Fred
and Ginger: These were the kittens of a friend's outdoor cat. A little
wild at first, orange and gold striped Ginger soon grew used to me and
became a great friend. Fred was a soft, taffy-colored, sweet-natured cat
who disappeared when the wanderlust hit him. Ginger was very vocal and
used to greet me with a cheerful sound, like, "Hiiiiiiii!" She
loved music and would sit with her ear against my radio. When I went to
college, she grew attached to my sister, and spent her remaining days
in my sister's apartment, as a pampered elderly kitty. Ginger's nicknames:
Ginger-boo, Boo-boo Kitty, the Queen.
Coca-Cola:
My mom found Coca-Cola, named by my sister and nicknamed Coke, at
her place of work. He had been abandoned by some college students when
they moved. He was the sweetest, cuddliest kitty and despite many health
problems, lived to be a ripe old age. Coke loved sitting on people's laps
and once freaked me out by sitting on a nearby desk and tapping my shoulder
as I worked on the computer. He was trying to get me to pet him. Nicknames:
Coke, Cokie.
Sylvester:
When my mom brought Sylvester home, he looked like a ragged old carpet.
My sister had found him while attending a Brownie meeting at a country
church and had insisted on getting him care. He'd apparently been wild
for awhile and had been hit by a car that had broken his hip. But Mom
insisted that, once cleaned up, he'd be beautiful, and he was. A long-haired
white cat with a patch of gray on his head, he looked like a photo negative
of the cartoon cat my sister named him after. Years of protecting his
territory — Mom's yard — gave him ragged ears and other battle
scars, but he grew softer with age. He's now in Cat Valhalla, where all
worthy Warriors eventually go. Nickname: Sly.
Eponine:
My sister found Eponine after I'd gone to college, when Eponine was
a tiny calico kitten, covered with oil, crouching under a car on a bitter
cold winter night. Having just seen Les Miserables in New York,
my sister named her after the street urchin. As she's grown older, she's
become so plump you would never guess at her street beggar past. She's
become a compulsive eater, eating when she's happy, sad, depressed or
bored. Sometimes, when she's outside and really happy, she'll do somersaults.
Nickname: Eppy.
Emily,
Fred, Whispering Wind: My brother had two ferrets, Emily and Fred,
a.k.a Fat Freddy the Freeloading Ferret. He also once had a pink dove
named Whispering Wind. Emily (pictured) was a cheerful, playful soul who
disappeared one day from my brother's apartment. Whispering Wind was given
to a bird enthusiast, and Fat Freddy was also given to a friend.
Pulsar:
Pulsar is my brother's dog and the mother of
my doggie. She appears to have a little German Shepherd in her, from her
coloring, and is a solidly built, intelligent, well-behaved mix. My brother
was there at Pulsar's birth; he'd agreed to watch a pregnant dog, Lady,
for a friend who had to leave the area. He raised all of the puppies until
he found them homes and kept Pulsar when he returned Lady to his friend.
Harold
and Echo: In a harsh winter storm, my father found two black and white
cats trying to stay warm outside of his apartment building. He took them
in, naming one Harold (one of his favorite animal names) and the other
Echo, since they looked so much alike. He thought they must have been
litter mates, or that one had fathered the other. Echo (pictured) died
in 2003 after a long life.
Squeaky:
The first pet to be mine alone, I adopted Squeaky reluctantly
at the urging
of my ex-husband. She was standing in the yard of our apartment building
squeaking for us to let her in, even when we closed the curtains. We later
found out she'd escaped from a fourth floor apartment by leaping from
the balcony to a tree, but her previous owners let us keep her. After
the divorce, Squeaky stayed with me. She was hit by a car while taking
a nightly stroll on a usually quiet street.
Sunnie:
A German Shepherd mix, Sunnie ran up to my mom's car while she was
driving down a country road, wanting to get in and go for a ride. Although
Mom put up signs, placed ads and called neighbors, she couldn't figure
out who'd lost the high-spirited dog, so she kept her. Sunnie came along
just as Snyder was in his last days and brought new life to him. She still
has a bad habit of running off but is easily recaptured if you go into
the driveway and start the car. She loves car rides.
Beaner:
Though everyone calls my sister's cat Beaner, her name is actually Bonanza
Jellybean, from Even Cowgirls Get the Blues by Tom Robbins. My
sister had a similar situation to my brother: in exchange for giving a
friend a place for her cat to have its kittens, she kept one. Beaner was
the smallest in the litter and was palm-sized for so long no one thought
she would grow. When she was little (about the size she is in this picture),
she crawled up my leg once and stole some pasta off my plate. She's since
mellowed and is very soft, although she has to be in the right mood to
be petted.
Una, Emma, Murray: Pulsar only had one litter before she was fixed,
and we got three family dogs out of it (four, if you count Eddie, who
lives with my brother's brother-in-law). Una is my dog, a quirky golden
brown doggie with a pink nose. Emma is my sister's, a light gold dog who
was one of the smallest in the litter. Murray is my mother's dog, and
looks like a shorter, squatter version of Snyder, which is why she wanted
him. Una
is a constant companion and is probably spoiled. Una's Nicknames:
Una-Boo, Boo, Woofie, Woofity, Snifferdoodle, Boobala.
Mia: Just
as my sister is drawn to small pets, my father seems to have a connection
with black and white cats. A couple years ago, he took in another stray,
MIA, who fit right in.
Zamuna:
The newest edition to the Wilson family pets was Zamuna, a gray tabby
owned by my brother and his wife. Sadly, she was killed by a car in 2003.
I met the previous summer, and she was remarkably calm, despite living
in a small apartment, overrun by visiting dogs. One of her favorite things
to do was play with colorful cat toys, especially those with feathers.
Moral:
Remembering old friends is a great way to spend the afternoon.
Copyright 2003 by Alyce Wilson
Other writings by Alyce about pets:
(Dec.
21, 2002) - Una's Owner
(Feb.
21, 2003) - Dog's Eye View
(March
9, 2003) - Lucky Dog
(March 25, 2003) - Crazy Humans
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