Page 82 - July ONLINE VERSION

Pet Philanthrophy
By Emily Pruitt
I remember my first cat,
Lily, in 2018 and my first
dog, Phoebe, in 2019. Now,
I’m no stranger to having
pets around the house. I’ve
been very close with all the
pets in my life, Bella, Dai-
sy, Ash, and Charlie, who
was originally my sister’s
but ended up being mine
for personal reasons. Our
sweet little Ollie lived for
only a month. But when Lily and Phoebe came to live
with me, I felt something else, something deep in my
heart where only the most profound love can hit you.
I don’t know whether to call it maternal instincts or
not, but their kindness inspires me to rekindle my
kindness.
I should start when I was only six years old
with my very first dogs Bella and Daisy. I didn’t have
a whole lot of responsibilities taking care of them.
Don’t get me wrong, I loved them a lot, but it wasn’t
like they were mine. Neither was Charlie at first; he
was my sister’s when he first came to live with us; I
was in the fourth grade. I mean, I played with them,
petted them, and loved them to the moon and back,
but I didn’t have an obligation
to care for them. That was until
my sister started having some
problems when I was in the
eighth grade. It wasn’t good
then.
Consequently, when my
sister eventually moved away
to my father’s house, I ended up having to care for
Charlie. I didn’t know much about taking care of a
cat; all I knew was playing with him, petting him, and
picking him up made me feel good. Now, all of a sud-
den, I had to feed him and give him water. Being an
eighth-grader, I didn’t think much of it, but I found it
enjoyable, and Charlie enjoyed me. I found it ironic
that Charlie would enjoy my company because I was
rough on him when he first came to our house. How-
ever, my favorite part of taking care of Charlie was
feeding him and announcing to him which flavor of
food he was going to have for the night. I loved that
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tonitis (FIP), a type of feline coronavirus considered
part so much that I even started doing it for Bella and
Daisy, too. I still do it with Phoebe and Lily to this
day. “Wow, this must be what motherhood is like!” I
thought to myself. And I loved every minute of it!
Unfortunately, that feeling couldn’t last forever;
death is an inevitable part of life, after all. I learned
that the hard way early in 2016 when Charlie started
getting sick and throwing up. On his final day, we
had to take him to the hospital to see what was going
on. I found him hiding under my bed. I guess he had
trusted me long enough to do that. I gently coaxed
him into the cat carrier and tried to comfort him as
much as possible during the emergency trip. But it
was too late; Charlie was gone. Everyone in my family
cried, but I bawled as I had never bawled in my entire
life. During those few years, Charlie had been in the
center of my heart, and that was the kindest thing
anyone or any animal could ever do for me.
A pet’s death, sadly, soon became normal for
me. Let’s start with Ash. It was September 8, 2016,
the best day of my life so far. I had just been accepted
into my high school’s beta club. I was over the moon
with happiness. As soon as I walked into the house
and announced the good news to my family, my
sister told me to come to the den couch because she
had a surprise for me. I sat down next to her, and she
showed me a tiny silver tabby with long gray fur and
only one eye, my little Ash. I was consumed with love
and admiration, but I was also cautious. It hadn’t even
been a year since Charlie had died, and Ash only had
one eye. What if he didn’t live very long?
“Don’t expect him to live very long,” my moth-
er had told me. Luckily, he made it to his first birth-
day, and you better believe I celebrated it in July. I
took care of Ash just like I had taken care of Charlie,
playing with him, petting him, feeding him, and com-
forting him during his final days. Yes, Ash had final
days; he was diagnosed with Feline Infectious Peri-
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to be euthanized for fear he had contracted rabies.
non-treatable until very recently and almost always We also had to get rabies shots. Ollie had been found
fatal. It all started when he started losing weight, outside in the wild; thankfully, he didn’t have rabies at
then urinating on the floors, and finally, not walking. all; this didn’t make Ollie’s loss any easier to grieve.
It was hard to see Ash go; he was such a lovely and At least with Bella and Daisy, they lived into
friendly cat, especially to Bella. I still miss Ash so old age. Daisy died of a heart attack a little over three
much. weeks before her 12th birthday; Bella died of a stom-
It did not get easier with Ollie. I only got to ach mass when she was fourteen years old. We always
know him for a week. It all started a few months after wish for more years than given. When Bella died, my
Ash had died. My sister and I had just started our mother was intensely depressed, very similar to how I
summer vacation in late May when my mother came felt when Charlie died several years earlier. She didn’t
home for her lunch break and told us we had compa- know how she could live without a dog because she
ny. That was odd; we usually didn’t have any com- had loved Bella and Daisy like they were her children.
pany during Mom’s lunch break. But my sister and I Honestly, I didn’t know how to live without them ei-
walked outside our house and saw a brown cardboard ther. So, a little over a week after Bella died, a person
box with a tiny orange tabby cat inside it. We were on Facebook was looking to rehome some puppies.
both in awe and filled with joy at the sight of the cute My mom and I flipped a coin: heads = puppy; tails
little kitten! We carried the box into the house and = no puppy. To our surprise (and our joy), the coin
let the kitten out of it, wondering what to name it. I returned a ‘heads’ verdict. And that was how Phoebe
was suggesting Graham so that I could call him the came to our house.
nickname “Graham Cracker.” My mother, sister, and So, what does this have to do with the power of
I came up with several names and disagreeing with kindness? Phoebe and Lily provided purpose in my
them all. Until I suggested the name “Oliver.” To my life. I cared for them, loved them, and in return, they
surprise, my mother and sister liked the name, so cuddled and loved on me; it all cheered me up. Again,
Oliver, or Ollie, it was. I don’t know whether to call it maternal instincts
Like the others, I loved caring for Ollie, even or not, but their kindness inspires me to return the
bathing him because he kindness. I care about them just like they care about
would get pretty messy me. That’s what love is. That is the power of kindness
from the cat box. Okay, a pet gives you. That is how a pet’s kindness goes so
maybe that last part far. Whether that pet is dead or still alive, whether it
wasn’t the most dignified lived a long life or died very young, that kindness will
part of taking care of a always remain in your heart. I should know because
cat, but it was still an im- the kindness of all my pets has stayed warm in my
portant responsibility that heart.
I took on entirely. I still
fondly remember when
he learned how to climb up the stairs and how proud
we all were of him for doing so. He was such a fast
learner and a sweet little boy. I couldn’t wait to see
what else he would learn! But then, on a day meant to
be a peaceful Saturday, June 1, 2018, it turned out to
be anything but peaceful. Ollie was shaking, scratch- I’m just an autistic person
ing at his face, and we thought maybe some litter got who likes writing, reading,
in his eye. So, my mother tried to wipe his eye with drawing, and Eurovision.
a wet wipe gently, but Ollie wouldn’t allow it, and he
scratched her. That was when we realized something
more serious was happening. We drove him to the
emergency vet. We were upset and praying that Ollie
would make it through, but it was no use. Ollie had
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