Delightful, calm, kind, loving, slightly destructive, finicky, determined. I can think of a thousand different ways to describe her. She wasn’t even supposed to be mine. When she was born in a litter of six or seven, she was slated to go to another little girl. I had selected another kitten- DC (after That Darn Cat). Then the little girl who picked her found out she was allergic. Then she contracted a terrible wolf worm. Then she ended up staying. D.C. disappeared after about a year, but Prissy stuck around. The name was selected on the way to the vet as my mother determined it would have to be done before walking in the waiting room. The fact that there was a giant hole in her neck did not bother her as much as the idea of an unnamed pet.

Prissy was outside the first couple of years. Then, when we moved, another cat moved onto our farm. He wouldn’t let her eat, so my parents started letting her in to eat. Soon she was sleeping on my bed. I have not had another cat since that could sleep with me the way Prissy could. I gave her a towel on the corner of the end of my bed, and she literally only slept there, coming and going so quietly I never woke up. She would come up to me, allow me to say goodnight by scratching her stomach, then head down to her spot as I rolled over.

Prissy was so much a part of my life. She was a constant comfort when I was grounded or sick in bed. She was never intentionally mean. She was in perfect health for years and years. And now, I don’t know what’s going to happen to her. This morning my mother called to tell me she was practically unconscious and heading to the vet, most likely to be put to sleep. I was horrified. I can’t believe that the sweet kitten I loved so much and even kept a photo of in my locket is on the verge of not being with me anymore. She’s almost 20 years old and has literally been a part of my life since I was 7. Two decades with one animal and you feel like they are as much a part of your family as your aunts and uncles and even parents.

How do you deal with the grief of realizing that your own aging process means losing those creatures that mean so much to us? I plan on posting a pic as soon as one of her is digital.

Where was I? I thought the man standing in the tall grasses was the dog’s owner. So smiling, hot, dusty I called out “Is that your dog?” He looked over, shook his head no, and said “I don’t know if she’s alive. She was when I came by a while ago.” He had made the exact same turnaround I had when I saw this creature on the side of the road. I think it says something about humanity when more than one person stops for someone or something that obviously needs help.

We stood there, staring at this creature who was barely five feet from these cars. She lifted her head and looked at us and we looked back at her. I had called HP, then they told me to call 911. So I called 911 and they said they would take my number and have Animal Control call me. When Animal Control finally called me, I had been dealing with this for about half an hour. The officer asked if I was planning on staying with the dog. I was indignant. of course I was staying with the dog. I didn’t want to risk leaving her. It was noisy and dirty and we were inside an overpass on a highway.

THe man looked at me, as if trying to find the right words. “Um, are you planning on staying with her?”
“Yes.” I was beginning to get irritated because I immediately thought that he was trying to get out of helping this animal too.
“Okay. My two and seven year old are in the car, still. If you’re going to be okay with sitting here…”

I couldnt’ believe it. Even though he had two very young children with him, he had pulled over. Of course my mom pointed out that maybe it was a ploy but it wasn’t like he invited me to come check them out. It was just an observation. I told him to go and said that was nice of the kids to sit there quietly while he handled it. All I had was a cake with buttercream icing.

So I sat, reading Valley of the Dolls (highly recommend it as a summer read) and thinking about how sad this was. how someone had to be missing this dog. A couple of times she tried to get up but each time I would say “No, lay down.” And she listened, meaning someone had taken the time to train her. I didn’t have any way of giving her water without getting too close and didn’t want to touch her. (In case you’re ever in this situation you should never touch a hurt dog you don’t know).

We sat, until finally I saw lights in the distance and knew that her ride was here. I kept talking to her, telling her it was going to be fine as the animal control officer used one of their loops to literally drag her out from under the barrier back towards the highway. She started shaking again as we lifted her into the dog box. I was so relieved and asked if I could call. The woman said sure, though I’m sure she thought I wouldn’t. Then I asked what they were going to do with her. She said they would go to the vet, and if she was too hurt, she’d be euthanized. If not, she’d go to holding for her family to claim her. And if no one claimed her, she’d go to the shelter. I looked at her, an average looking black lab mix with graying muzzle and could feel tears building up.

Climbing back into my car I decided that if no one claimed her I was going to find someone else to take her. My parents have a few too many animals right now but I knew that if I begged and pleaded they’d take one more at least temporarily. Of course mom flipped out when I mentioned it.

So yesterday I made that call to check on her. I was kind of expecting the worst, gearing up for internal injuries that had required Euthanasia. But it turned into one of the best things that has happened in a long time. She told me that the dog was fine. That her hip was the only thing injured and best of all her owner had come in that morning after searching for her all weekend. He was taking her to the vet but she was healthy, except for the hip, spayed and ready to go home. It was the most elated I had felt in a long time, like I had actually helped someone in a way that was incredibly important (as any dog owner would tell you).

This really might be the best invention of all time. A guy in my program was telling me about this the other day. Apparently it’s meant that he only has to clean the litterbox once a week and it doesn’t smell as bad as they can. His wife’s pretty happy, too. The question is: if he also gets an automatic feeder, does that mean he’s no longer a pet owner?

I’ve been debating that question and I wonder if it’s not the services we provide for our animals but our time and love. And really I don’t think my cat feels the love when I’m scooping her toilet. She does when I’m feeding her though. At least she reacts differently. I guess the important thing is that you maintain some form of physical contact.