Tommy (my gray cat)

I wrote this story quite some time ago, but decided not to share it.  I was reminded of it when my puppy got sick recently and, well...here's Tommy's story: 

When I was growing up, my parents had a gray cat, Tommy (he looked a lot like Kristie's cat).  He was a sweet cat and a hero (he saved my mom from a snake).  One Saturday when I was 12 (maybe 13) he came home badly hurt.  The fur over his left eye and on his cheek was torn and bleeding.  Fur was missing from bottom half of his tail and his left hip was very badly injured.  My dad didn’t believe in taking pets to a vet.  If one got injured, he put it out of its misery (his farm upbringing?).  My brothers and I (usually me) had the job of digging a grave in the woods—this had happened before.  I’d argued in the past to take the pets to a vet, but dad said no.  I had no money and no options.

 

I dug the grave and carried Tommy into the woods.  I fed him leftover tuna while I waited for my dad.  Then I would leave—I never watched.  But this time it was going to be different.  Dad loaded his .22 rifle and handed it to me.  He explained that doing what needs to be done is hard sometimes, but it still needs to be done—you can’t wait around hoping someone else will take care of it.  He gave me a choice:  let my pet die a slow, painful death or put him out of his misery. 

Dad showed me where to aim to make it painless and then he left.  Supposedly there are always alternatives, but I didn't see any.  I couldn’t let Tommy suffer.  I talked with him for a minute and rubbed his back (hopefully where it didn’t hurt).  Then I stood up, aimed, and...I shot my cat.  

It was worse than I’d imagined.  He didn’t die quietly.  His body thrashed about like he was being electrocuted.  It was awful. I buried Tommy and gave the gun back to my father.  I told him about the thrashing—I was afraid I’d botched it and caused the cat even more pain.  But dad assured me that was normal.  (Normal!)  Supposedly the cat didn’t feel anything. 

This story should end with a lesson, but I'm not sure what it is.  Always do the best you can (under the circumstances) to keep your pets from suffering???  I'm going with that one.  In fact, I know that's what my dad was doing, in his way. 


PS - Taking a pet to the vet to be put to sleep is difficult.  It's always very sad.  But in there with the sadness, a part of me is thankful I don't have to do it myself, thankful the vet is there, thankful I can afford the vet. 

Domestic Violence

I have a story.

But first I am going to pile on and comment on the Ray Rice situation.  It's sickening.  But for more reasons than the news outlets are reporting (at least the reports I've seen).  Months ago (February?), it was reported that he had knocked his fiancee out cold in an elevator.  Legally and professionally he received a slap on the wrist.  Until a video of the incident was released.  Then things hit the fan.

Why did it take a video?  What do people think it looks like when a football player clocks a woman (or anyone)?  The video was no more disturbing than the story.  Is there no justice for domestic abuse victims without a video???  Second, the talking heads on TV talk as if they know the GF/wife is a victim of long-term abuse.  They can tell because she "fits the profile."  That's BS--they don't "know" anything.  She also fits the profile of a spouse trying to protect the family income stream.  I'm not defending the guy, but there's no excuse for making assumptions and treating them as facts. 

My story:  As a teenager I gestered with my hands more than I do now--especially when I was annoyed.  One evening I had a fairly animated discussion with my GF in her parent's basement.  She was sitting on their dryer and I was standing in front of her.  At some point her oldest sister came down the basement steps and, from the viewing angle of the stairs, thought I struck my GF.  I did not (I promise, I've never done anything like that).  Several days later my GF told me what happened, that her sister thought I hit her.  She thought it was funny.  I did not.  1) I didn't get a chance to defend myself against the false accusation.  2) Why didn't the sister confront me?  Or tell her father so he could defend his daughter?  She thought I hit her sister and just walked away???

Maybe it worked out better for me that she didn't sing her accusation from the rooftop, but...

Chemistry

Before I got lucky and met my wife, I had mixed experiences with the opposite sex. 

Some girls I liked saw me as just a friend.
Some girls who liked me, I saw just as friends.
Some mutual attractions ended horribly.
Some mutual attractions ended amicably (but their friends got mad).

All pretty typical stuff (except, perhaps, for the friends yelling at me?).

At one point, after a weird sequence of events, I started running into the "prettiest girl in school" almost everywhere I went--no, I wasn't stalking her!  (I put that in quotes because while I remember her resembling a teenage Brittany Spears, she may have looked more like a Brittany Spaniel--who knows with teenage boys!)  And suddenly she wanted to talk to me.  I was pretty sure we had chemistry. 

We flirted a little. I think. She was very, very pretty (to me), so I may have misinterpreted.  But I quickly realized I really didn't enjoy spending time with her.  I didn't like her personality.  She was more than a little stuck on herself and her sense of humor centered mostly on putting down others.  One day I bumped into her at my grandmother's store.  We chatted for a minute and then she said something like, "I'm not sure if you're my type or not."  She said it teasingly, but it gave me a perfect opening to put an end to our...whatever it was.  I laughed and said, "Trust me, I'm not your type."  Then I turned and walked away.  I never spoke to her again.  She was shiny, but not the one for me.

Years later I saw her at one of my son's back-to-school nights.  She gave me the stink eye.  At that moment I thought about how lucky I was that I didn't waste any time on her.  Thanks to that I was unattached when I met my wife a few months later.  It's funny how things work out. 

Why did I share this story?  I'm not 100% sure why I share any of them.  But in this case it's just as a reminder that we need to get to know people before we build them up in our minds as something special OR dismiss them as not worth our time.  People have a way of surprising you.

Let yourself be surprised--but always in a safe, well lit place with lots of other people around.  :D


PS - Brittany Spaniel is a dog breed.