The Gift

My cat, Natasha, brought me a gift this morning. At first, I couldn't tell what the gift was...it was running too fast. Ever since we moved here, about four years ago, she has been allowed to venture outside. We have a huge yard for her to explore and she usually doesn't stray much beyond the patio. After a few forays, Natasha showed herself to be a formidable hunter. I believe the first thing she captured was a bird. She was so proud of her conquest, she brought it inside to show Mommy. As you can imagine, pandemonium soon broke out in the living room. The bird escaped the cat's jaws and flew willy-nilly trying to escape. The cat took off in hot pursuit. I took off after the cat, knowing that with her in the room, the bird didn't stand a chance. Across the room, over the couch, up on the window sill, crash goes a lamp...the cat was determined. So was the bird. So was I. Eventually, I grabbed the cat and shut her in the bedroom. The bird by now was quivering in a corner. He must've been in shock because I was easily able to scoop him up and release him outside. Since that first capture, Natasha has brought in lots of prey. Birds, snakes, mice, moles, voles...pretty much anything she spots out there is fair game. The worst, by far, was a mouse she brought in once. It ran very quickly once Natasha dropped it on the rug. By the time I had put the cat into the bedroom for a time-out, the mouse was nowhere to be found. I searched along the floorboards, under the furniture and in all the corners. Finally, I located Mr. Mouse. The bad news was, he was running straight at me. At that moment, I honestly wanted to jump up on a chair and scream, "eek". That mouse lived in my apartment for about four days. I tried everything I could think of to capture him. I would catch sight of him every so often scuttling along the wall, but he would always duck behind a heavy piece of furniture or into some hidey hole. It's nerve wracking to have a rodent lurking about your home. I was even willing to try mouse traps but I really didn't want to cause the poor thing pain or death. Finally I was able to corner him behind a door in the spare room. He was paralyzed with fear which gave me time to run into the kitchen and get a plastic food container. What a relief it was when I got that little critter trapped under the bowl and slid the lid beneath him for transporting outside.

Back to today's adventure. As stated earlier, the creature Natasha brought in today was running too fast to identify. I knew by the fluffy tail that it was not a mouse...baby squirrel was my first thought. The frightened animal streaked into the corner behind the antique desk. The cat positioned herself right smack in front of said desk. Scooping up the cat, I hurried her off to the bedroom. Then I went back to the corner to determine if the tiny animal was still there...it was. So I went to the kitchen for a container, thank goodness I have lots of those, and returned to complete the mission. All the while, I had visions of another siege with a creature in my house. The poor little thing was so frozen with fear, it was incredibly easy to trap him under the bowl. It wasn't until I slid the lid beneath him and scooped him up that I realized what we had was a chipmunk. I wish I'd had time to grab the camera and snap a picture of him has he scampered off to the safety of the forsythia bush. He'll have tales to tell his family for a long time to come. Natasha is still pouting.

Veruca 1995 - 2010

Borrowing from the movie, "Love Story"...What can you say about a dog who died... that she was well behaved, devoted, gentle, a superb watchdog? She was all these things and more. My son acquired her as a pup. He was a young bachelor and she an adorable tawny pit bull. As a young man, he had some demons to fight. He was lucky to have a lot of good people in his corner and one especially wise dog with adoring eyes. The responsibility of dog ownership did much to keep the young man on the straight and narrow. The dog took the welfare of her human very seriously.

My mom was still alive when Veruca became part of our family. When she heard that my son had adopted a pit bull she was beyond alarmed. In her defense, all she knew of pit bulls was what she had heard via the media. We had always been cat people so all dogs were considered potentially dangerous and pit bulls, pretty much lethal. Mom was pretty upset when she learned I had plans to travel to AZ to visit my son and his new dog. "Don't stare at her. Don't be alone with her. Don't touch her or let her get close." Mom had lots of advice for me prior to my departure to AZ. She succeeded in making me a little apprehensive about meeting my new grandpuppy. After all, I too had seen the frightening articles about these dogs from Hell.

I truly believe that dogs have a sixth sense when it comes to dealing with humans. They can tell if you're sick or healthy, young or old, strong or weak, friendly or threatening and they treat you accordingly. I was 50 years old when I first met Veruca. I was not sick or especially weak, but I had had a hip replaced and I certainly wasn't as young as I used to be. She was a lady. We immediately had tremendous respect for each other. It was almost as if she knew I had heard the rumors but was willing to overlook the bad press regarding pit bulls. Once I had put my luggage away in my room and sat down on the couch, she jumped up next to me. Still apprehensive, I was a little cool at first. It didn't take long for Veruca to win me over. She seemed to know that if her master liked me, I must be okay. That afternoon she wriggled her way into my lap and also into my heart.

On the second day of my visit, my son had to go to work. I assured him that Veruca and I would be able to amuse and entertain each other in his absence. We got along very well. I was able to find the coffee and figured out how to turn on the TV. We were having a great time right up until Veruca stood in front of the door and commenced to whine. I knew what that meant! One cannot ignore an animal who is hearing the call of nature and I had no problem with walking the dog, however, the apartment was on the second floor and the only way to ground level was via an outside staircase. As I mentioned earlier, I had an artificial hip and that made me a bit leery of any activity which might cause a fall. I pictured this extremely strong dog on one end of a leash and myself on the other. This situation seemed to have the potential for disaster. I had to dismiss my own misgivings because the needs of this poor dog were far more important at that moment. I located the leash and snapped the fastener to the ring on Veruca's collar. Then I took Veruca's face in my two hands and almost pleadingly explained to her that I was not nearly as agile as her master and I would need to go slowly down the stairs. I had seen how my son fairly flew down the stairs with his dog. With enormous hesitency I opened the door. Veruca stepped out. I stepped out. We got to the top of the steps and Veruca turned and looked at me. Her eyes told me she understood that I was not able to race down those steps the way my son did. I still smile when I recall that beautiful dog going down two or three steps and then looking back at me as if to say, "Is this slow enough?". We had a lovely walk, she relieved herself and that afternoon, we bonded.

People who think animals are dumb, are, themselves dumb. I've taken many trips to AZ since that one where Veruca and I first met. I could swear, she always remembers me and we always have a silent acknowledgement of that moment when we decided that we loved each other.

My sweet, beautiful Veruca...I hope that by now, you and Barley are frolicking in doggy heaven and you have even managed to win over my mother.