Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: MONDAY, March 19, 1990 TAG: 9003222322
SECTION: EDITORIAL PAGE: A7 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: Sue Lindsey Editorial Writer
DATELINE: LENGTH: Medium
She was sitting on the edge of the patio one morning when I happened to see a man bend down with an outstretched hand to scoop her up. She easily evaded his first try, but he didn't give up. I went out to run interference.
He was after her because he thought she was a stray. "I've seen her the last few mornings," he said. "I was going to take her to the SPCA."
The cat is a fairly new kid on the block. She spent most of the winter inside, so not everyone in the neighborhood knows her. In the nice weather last week, she wanted to spend more time outdoors.
She's 6 years old, and I've had her all her life. Just like that, she would have been gone. Had I not had my drapes open, or not been looking out the window, that would have been the end of our relationship. It probably would have been the end of her.
If I may say so, she doesn't look like a stray. I know - one man's junk is another's treasure. But the loss of a pet is more than the loss of a possession. This cat has seen me through some rough times. I could pick her meow out of a chorus; her tail would stand out (or maybe up) in a lineup.
Had she gone to an animal shelter, no one would know how she snuggles close in bed or that she favors a perch on top of the refrigerator. Her ritual for showing she's your buddy would be misunderstood. She doesn't carry a card saying, "I like to sit on your chest and purr right in your face, especially if I sense you could use company. You're supposed to push me away, gently of course, and then I take an acceptable place on your lap or by your side."
She has brought home her share of trophies, but she's a big tease with her prey. A new owner, if one came forward, wouldn't know about the time she showed off chasing a baby mouse around. I watched, looking for an opportunity to help the mouse, and both the cat and I were perplexed when it suddenly vanished. We searched for a few minutes, until I found it: clinging to the inside of my trouser leg.
At the shelter, they wouldn't know the cat's family history. I have to admit she is the daughter of a stray - well, a former stray, but one of good breeding. The sometime street cat isn't likely to be whisked off to any shelters herself, though. She's got street smarts. Anyway, most days she'd rather stay inside and eat.
I have lost my share of pets - dog losses most often were temporary; cat disappearances were always permanent. My worst luck with animals was in Franklin County: The toll was three cats and a dog within a couple of years.
When I lived in a small Georgia town, I ran a newspaper ad right after a collie puppy wandered off. The postmaster called me, and said he'd found her and had given her away. When I protested, he said, "But I gave her to a nice family."
Some people don't think much of animals. If you lose a pet, they say, you just get another one. Don't skip a beat. I've always replaced my pets, but I've always suffered through my losses, too.
These same people would never suggest you could replace a child so easily. Human beings are an entirely different matter. But will someone who doesn't care much about one form of life really place a lot of value on another?
by CNB