Sunday 8 February 2015

Chapter 4: Pets

I grew up in a big yellow house in the country on top of a valley. In addition to our three acres of land I use to explore the abandoned sheds of the nearby farm and make up adventures in the woods. In this setting we had a lot of pets, some of whom I found in my exploration. At different points we had rabbits, gerbils, birds, guinea pigs, dogs, cats, salamanders, snakes, frogs and even a tortoise. They were never big pets. Even our dogs were small. And what made a pet special was when we gave it a name.

Misty was the first dog I knew by name. She was part Terrier and part Chihuahua. She was part of my parents’ family before I was born and immediately took to looking after me. Misty would lie beside my crib and, when I woke up, go find mom to let her know her baby was awake. As I got older, Misty was a great soccer companion. She loved soccer and would push the ball around the yard with her nose so fast it was difficult to get it away from her. I could also pass her the ball and she would dribble it back for another kick. Every time dad and I went out to play soccer Misty would join us. It was sad to see her get old and not be able to do the things she loved. She eventually found getting off and on the sofa difficult and would gasp for breath when she exerted herself. After fourteen years we knew the time had come. She was now only suffering and so we made the trip to the vet and put her down. Misty was my closest pet for the first twelve years of my life and I loved her.

Baby Stef with Misty


I resented the next terrier/poodle we got and started being mean to him. This dog was not Misty and was also a gift to my brother. Michael even called him “Adam” after his middle name. Resentful and jealous I took it out on Adam. I yelled at him and tried to see how badly I could scare him. This went on for a few months when I scared him so badly he cowered in a corner. As I looked into his eyes something reached my heart. “What am I doing to this puppy?” I decided to make an effort to change my behaviour and ended up loving the dog. As I’ll display a few times in these reflections, certain memories remind me of my capacity for evil and why I need Christ. I concur with what many who have found Christ have come to realize: “Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners--of whom I am the worst.” (1 Timothy 1:15).

We also had a number of cats, but they didn’t seem to last very long. The first cat I remember was named Boots for her white paws on her otherwise grey coat. I was sleeping on a mattress in the basement at the time and Boots would always sleep at the foot of my bed. How can you not bond with a cat like that?

I don’t remember our second cat’s name before it became Miracle. One morning dad started the car and heard a thud and the shriek of a cat. When he opened the hood he found Miracle with a shortened tail and a broken paw, but alive. Miracle disappeared about six months later. She either found a better home or her miracles had run out and she became someone’s breakfast.

I’ve always been partial to cats over dogs. The first pet Nancy and I got was a calico cat we named Frodo. Frodo was great. Like Boots she always slept at the edge of our bed, and whenever we sat on the couch to read, wanted to cuddle. When we had Micah he developed a chronic cough and had a problem with croup. It didn’t take long for us to discover his allergies to cats and so we had to decide to give up Micah or Frodo. We chose to give up the cat. This seemed to help Micah’s cough and I found myself breathing better as well. It happens I’m also allergic to cats! I’d been so congested I ended up needing nasal surgery to clear out my sinuses. I had forgotten what it was like to breathe clearly.

Next we got a fish. No allergies with this one. He was a Chinese fighting fish whom the kids named Pharaoh. We presented him to the kids on Christmas morning, 2009.  Pharaoh lived for a year. He was boring and the kids complained that he wasn’t cuddly.

When we moved to Delta, after much pleading from the kids (especially Faith) we decided to get another cat. Nancy was convinced that we could train one to be an outside cat that would stay on our property. I was skeptical, but she claimed to have had a cat like this growing up and so I gave in. We got Sophie from an animal shelter and made her a living area in our garage. One of our garage doors came with a cat door built into it so that she could come and go as she pleased. For the first couple of days we took Sophie around the property on a cat leash to get her familiar with the place. After that we let her off her leash and would follow her around. Every time she stepped off of our property we sprayed her with water. Would you believe that after a few days she was trained? She is a great cat who loves being around us when we are outside. And whenever we pull up to the house in our car she runs out to greet us. She is not as cuddly as Frodo, but the kids love her and she tolerates them when they pick her up and give her a hug. Each night we feed her and lock her in the garage so that she is safe. As long as Micah and I keep washing our hands after playing with her, our allergies have been fine.


What are some stories about the special pets you have had? 

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9 comments:

  1. Two years ago we got a cat named Sophie. When we got her she was not very cuddly and when we tried to pet her she ran away and when we would sit down she would run away, but now she is very cuddly and whenever we sit down she always sits on our laps and she purrs. We keep Sophie outside because my brother (Micah) and my dad (Stef) are allergic to cats. Sophie is a hunter, she caches birds and mice, and she has even caught two rats! Sophie’s favourite toys are little toy mice, she plays with them all the time, she has already broken most of them. Sophie is a Tabby brown and she is very cute. Me, my dad, and both my brothers (Josiah & Micah) all say that Sophie is a Piva (part of the family), but my mom (Nancy) says that she is not part of the family (just a pet). Sophie is a very lucky cat because we give her birthday gifts and Christmas gifts, this Christmas we gave her a little tunnel and five toy mice (which she has already broken). Sophie is the best cat you could ever have and I love her very much!

    Faith Piva

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  2. To understand why I had the kind of pets I had growing up, you must understand from where I come and how long was my journey here…
    I come from rural Uruguay and it has been a journey of more than fifty years!

    Growing up in a farm, we had cats and dogs (Cats to keep the barns clean of unwelcome rodents and dogs to keep away unwelcome “visitors”) so cats and dogs were not really pets but a necessity in a working farm.

    However, I always had a cat and a dog that were “my pets” the companions of my childhood.
    A gray tabby cat named “Mushi-Mushi” and “Yuri” a short tail dog, named after Yuri Gagarin, the first man in space-

    Those two were the most typical pets I had.
    One time after a long day working in the fields my father brought home two baby mottled owls. We kept them warm with an old wool sweater, and fed them tiny pieces of raw meat. We did this for what I thought it was the longest time, but they grew and found their secure place under the eaves of our country house. I remember their big eyes and their heads swiveling all the way around. Of course they were no cuddly; they were just there, they flew away and came back as they pleased but because I raised them I considered them my pets.

    The fox was a constant visitor to our chicken coop until my father built a trap and caught it. What to do with the fox? If released, it was going to come back to our chickens, so the alternative was to…how can I put this gently?
    …to assist its demise?
    I asked my father if we could keep it, so we did, my father put on the fox a collar and a long leash and the fox was tied to a post having enough space and length of leash to walk and exercise especially when the chickens were near, the fox would jump to get the chicken, luckily the leash was never long enough.

    The goat was a gift from a neighbour, it was black and white and very naughty. As a kid the goat was fun and cute but as an adult it became a challenging pet. The goat would chew everything in its reach, including our laundry that was hanged outside to dry in the sun. My mom found the goat a good home and I was sad that it wasn’t our home.

    The lamb was perhaps one of my favorites pets I named it “Nubecita” (Little Cloud) because of its white fleece. Nubecita would follow me through out the farm as I was doing my chores, seeing it frolicking and coming back to me at full lamb seeped , was fun until Nubecita got big, then seeing it come back to me at full sheep speed it was a reason for me to hide. The sheep remained in the farm for many years.

    “Liviano” (Lightweight) my noble horse, was not a pet, it was a pair of brown eyes with a big heart attached. No a pet, but a dear friend.

    When I talk with my grandchildren about my childhood and my pets, they tell me: “Abuela” (Grandma) you were so lucky! And I wholeheartedly agree.

    Alicia De Leon Epp

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  3. I have never believed that you would have bad luck if a black cat crossed your path, partly because my first pet was a black cat! His name was Boss. My parents, having both grown up on farms, did not believe that pets needed to be inside the house, and so he was an outside cat. I liked him, but he never really liked to be picked up, and I wanted a pet I could cuddle.

    When he died we picked up a kitten from a farm belonging to friends of my parents. He was black and white, and my mom agreed that he could be an inside and outside cat! His name was Pickwick – a name I found in a book I had been reading – the characters often read the “Pickwick Papers”. He was very cuddly and loved to be held. We trained him to stay out of the living room and the upstairs bedrooms, but sometimes when he wanted our attention (like when he was hungry), he would run through the living room, as he knew that we would come and chase him out! We had him for about 10 years when he disappeared. We called his name around the neighbourhood and put up “Lost Cat” signs, but to no avail. Two years later, however, my sister was at home when a call came from a vet in the north of Calgary (we lived in the southwest) asking if we owned a cat.
    “Well, we used to,” was her reply.
    “I think I have your cat here,” he stated, explaining that he had traced the ear tattoo to our name and number. So, we got in the car and drove across the city to pick him up! As soon as we got him inside the house, he walked straight to the cupboard where we used to keep his food, and looked at it expectantly! How he ended up so many miles from home we never knew, but if we could understand cat-speak, I bet he would have had an interesting story to tell!



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  4. I have loved animals from a very young age and am thankful that my parents thought it was important that we had pets growing up. Even as a toddler, I would throw all of my dolls out of the play crib and tuck all of my stuffed animals in to sleep every night!
    My first pet was Tubbsy, a stray cat my parents adopted shortly before my birth. They had a cat when they were married, and when my mom was recovering from a hernia operation, a black cat would sneak into the house and eat all of their cat’s food before she could shoo him out. They soon learned that he belonged to some people down the street who horribly abused and neglected him. When they moved into my childhood home shortly before my birth, they took Tubbsy with them as he was practically living at their house anyways! Their own cat died of cancer and Tubbsy had already made himself at home with them. Mom says that he was covered with cuts and cigarette burns and they bathed him and nursed him back to health. He was the friendliest, cuddliest cat! He was so patient with us as children. From the time they adopted him, he also drooled whenever he was happy. Tubbsy was put down when he was around 19 years old – I was 12 and just devastated. Having him as a pet instilled a passion in me for animal rescue and stray pet adoption.
    We had many other pets growing up, including several hamsters (one was a rescue we found in a park!), a gerbil, a bird, some frogs and lizards, 3 more cats (one of our rescue cats only had one eye), and finally our family dog, a boxer named Hershel. We had Hershel from 2 months old until he passed away at age 11 in 2013. I LOVE big dogs, and he sure was big, friendly, and a total goof. Everyone loved him! He was my mom’s third child and Paul’s “little brother.” I can think of so many great stories with Hershel, from the time he ate mom’s cinnamon bun dough and had to go to the vet, to how much he loved our friends and would wait for them at the door, to the sign we put up to warn guests that he “couldn’t hold his licker.” We put him down when he developed a tumour – he was already past his life expectancy and had a wonderful life. When we invited our friends over to say their goodbyes we ended up with a full-on party for him and over 30 people showed up to spoil him one last time.
    In high school and college I also worked at a pet store, which was a great experience! I’ve held massive snakes and fed them dinner, had my arm in a piranha tank for hours on end cleaning it (they are rather timid of people!), had to save an eel that jumped out of its tank, and even stocked shelves with an old tarantula perched on my shoulder. My dream is to own a big house full of rescued animals, but most people think I’m crazy for wanting snakes and tarantulas too!
    Now that I’m married, Sheldon and I have two cats – Merry and Pippin. We adopted them from a friend and they are rather chubby and VERY vocal. They are popular with our youth kids and can often be found begging for a bite of Timbit or potato chip when we have them in our home. When we got them, Pippin was a whopping 26 lbs! He is much healthier now, but it’s easy to see how he got that big in the first place – he sure is a persistent beggar. We also have two gerbils. I would love to add a bunny and a bearded dragon lizard to our small zoo but that will have to wait until we have a bigger home. I look forward to raising our future kids with a menagerie of their own!

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  5. In my lifetime I've had a number of pets. From a German Shepard named Sophie that we had in Brazil to guinea pigs, rabbits, budgies and fish. These days our pet is a cat we rescued as a kitten from certain death. His name is Hobbes (after the comic Calvin & Hobbes). Hobbes was born in an alley behind the motorcycle school where Tonia and I teach. He was the runt of a litter of feral cats that made their home in the bushes beside the alley. The owner of the bike school would always put food out for the cats because he felt sorry for them, but anytime a person would come near, the cats would all scurry off, their mom had taught them to be very fearful of humans. Tonia fell in love with the little runt that she could only watch from a distance and never touch. One day however, this little cat ventured into the service bay of the bike school. He was in some sort of medical distress and somehow he was captured and brought to a vet. A phone call in the middle of the night that started off with "Hey Tonia, you still want that cat" led us to adopting the cat through the vet. We were warned when we picked him up that "you have a wild animal in there". Giving him the medicine he required for his infection proved a bit of a challenge because the first thing he did when we let him out of his box at home was run and hide behind the freezer in the motor compartment. He wouldn't come out at all.

    Over the next few weeks we kept him locked in our tiny bathroom where he basically lived in a little box. We worked on getting him familiar with us and slowly he allowed us to pet him... but only while he ate. If we attempted to pet him any other time he would nip or claw at us.

    These days Hobbes is approximately the size of the raccoons in our back yard that he seems to have "an agreement" with. He's an indoor / outdoor / indoor / outdoor / indoor / outdoor cat (those of you who have cats know what I mean). He has still has only really bonded with Tonia and I but as he's aged he's become a bit more accepting of other people being around. We do have the occasional guests at our house that have seen him. Normally when we get guests he just disappears either under our bed or somewhere outside. He's not a cuddly cat and still only likes to be pet when he's eating or when he's sleeping at our feet at night, otherwise we'll still get the occasional nip if we 'push the boundaries' by trying to pet him other times.


    Horst Hinz

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  6. I owe a lot to our current dog Wags. She has been such a nanny to all my kids, she has worn more outfits than you can imagine. Before we got Wags our son Isaiah used to do what we called musical beds, he would go from bed to bed looking for deep pressure (pushed his whole body into yours). Isaiah would also sleep walk, have night terrors, seizures, cluster headaches and other sleep issues. No one in our home was immune from Isaiah’s inability to stay asleep. Isaiah spent some time at the children hospital and was tested for his sleep issues and seizures that remained a mystery to even the Dr’s.
    We tried many bed time strategies were we would rock him like a new born, tuck him into his bedding, made social stories about staying in your room, bought visual timers and special alarm clocks, bed time schedules, massage and the list went on. At one point we thought about purchasing a night alarm system just to track him. I like my beauty rest and I wasn’t waking up in the morning like a princess.
    We had often heard of the amazing ways dogs could help Isaiah. We put our name on a few waiting lists for therapy dogs. We even borrowed other peoples dogs who all contributed to Isaiah’s ability to make eye contact and helped guide him to stay in the group. Watching his growth with these therapy dogs and watching many You Tube stories we knew a dog could be the right helper for us. We just needed the right dog, most autism trained dogs cost more than a mini van. And then one summer while staying in our tent trailer on a acreage in Enderby, a little black lab puppy had crawled into our trailer that night. The puppy pushed herself into Isaiah’s body and overtime Isaiah would try and turn over or get up she would push herself back into him and then he would fall back asleep . Her ability to connect with him and provide him the supports he needed to stay asleep was amazing. We took her home that weekend as a favour to the farmers and she has forever been a favour to our family.

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    Replies
    1. This last post is from Andrew and Lisa Wagantall .

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  7. Up to now I had only one pet, a cat called "little meow". But the Little Meow taught the Little Joe (grade 3 or 4) something about life.

    Little Meow was a kitten from a friend of my father. She is partly a pet but more a guard against mice (like Alicia Epp's). Two weeks after Little Meow joined our family, my father told me that his friend's daughter wanted to come and see how Little Meow was doing and that I was to welcome her and show her the way. A girl!! I had never talked to a GIRL in my whole life (beside classmates). I was nervous and scared...what do I say? are girls like boys? lots of ???.

    That day finally came. When I opened the door, there stood a tall and thin girl, about my age. Very naturally, courteously and slowly she introduced herself, I responded that I was expecting her and quickly led her to Little Meow avoiding having to say something. She played with her and asked many, many questions about her. And to my relief there were easy questions to answer and I didn't even need to find ways to engage in the conversation. She did most the asking and talking. Hey,

    .... girls are okay...
    .... not as weird as I thought...
    .... not that tough to talk to...
    .... and they seem prettier than guys to look at...
    .... so, Little Meow helped Little Joe at little more at ease with girls then...

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  8. I too grew up on a farm with cats & dogs. But it wasn't till about 20 years ago that I got 2 Burmese female kittens. They were sisters, but very different, (just like siblings can be). "NESSA" my larger, orange, cat was vocal, demanding, & intelligent (Siamese-like) while "MANDY" was small, quiet & very affectionate, My big cat "NESSA" would run & hide under the bed when anyone came to visit, while the little one "MANDY" was always curious & had to be in the middle of any activities.
    These cats were indoors only, but in the summer I'd let them out onto the patio, though usually they only stayed out for about 5 minutes & come running back in. But one day I mistakenly locked "NESSA" out of the house & found her the next morning still trying to get back in. I still have the scratched up screen door. She ignored me for several days after that, but eventually forgave me.
    They were wonderful company & would often greet me at the door when I arrived home & other times I would find them asleep curled up together.
    The sad day came @ age 17 1/2 years that my "NESSA" developed severe arthritis & pain. Sadly, I had to have her put to sleep. Then last August my "MANDY" @ age 19 1/4 years developed tumors in her mouth & stopped eating. Out of love & compassion I also had to have her put to sleep.
    I still miss them both. These days I seldom leave the shopping mall without dropping by the pet store to check out the kittens.
    But in the next 2 weeks, my next 2 Burmese kittens are expected to be born & I should be able to take them home 3 months later.
    Can hardly wait to see my next 2 "bundles of fur" !!!

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