Brook called me at work to say,
“Kelly (her friend) won him and her mom won’t let her keep him. My teacher will
take him on Monday. I knew you wouldn’t mind.”
I
remember coming home from work in 2006 after receiving this call only to find
this tiny, black and white, flopsy flop of a fur ball. Feeling sorry for this thing and considering
its emotional well-being, I agreed to keep it. I thought of its feeling
abandoned – going from person to person. Plus, Brook said that it was the runt
of the litter. I knew nothing of caring for a rabbit but I was open to
learning. Going to the Utah State Faire in Salt Lake was a class field trip for
their class in animal husbandry. Oh my! My sweet daughter had me for a fool - literally.
We
lived in a two bedroom, upstairs apartment that was shared by 3 adult cats. Our pet rats of several years had recently
died. Their cage was kept under the kitchen table which was used as a desk and
catch-all.
We started out by letting Jack – as
the rabbit came to be known – hop around our home. Hearing that a rabbit could
be litter trained he was introduced to the cat’s litter box. At night we put up
a child’s gate to separate the kitchen from the living room. Often in the
morning we would awake to Jack missing. He was quickly discovered sleeping in
the bottom kitchen drawer. I’m still baffled at how he found that spot!
It wasn’t long before Jack was
hopping over the gate and chasing after our cats. The cats – well, yes. Let’s
see. My understanding was that cats chased after rabbits, not the other way around.
As mentioned, we did have two pet rats at one time. They escaped only twice
that I’m aware of. Both times the cats looked in the direction the rats were
hiding and whimpered. Yes, whimpered! Jack chased the cats, especially
Kolipoki, much to his mortification. Kolipoki seemed at a lost as to what to do
except whimper. He never ever attacked that rabbit! None of the cats did.
Kolipoki and Kaymae (pronounced K-may) were brother and sister. They
were Siamese mixed. I adopted them from a family in Salt Lake, March 2003 as
kittens. Their mother was known as the slut of the neighborhood due to the
constant reproduction of kittens. The family refused to get her fixed because
she was always pregnant. They also did not believe in abortion and as a result the
neighbors were always complaining. Koli, as he was more commonly known, grew to
be large and robust, about 10 pounds. Kaymae maintained a slightly smaller 5
pounds. She was usually skittish and fearful of people until she was spayed.
All of sudden we did not know this person-cat! She turned friendly and
personable and with STRANGERS even! Instead of hiding in my room, she wanted to
be with other people. She wanted to be petted but not held, of course. That
would have been asking too much. We kept asking her, “Do we know you?”
Sam was our sleek, black cat who
found me in April 2004. He was an outside cat when he came into our lives but I
think he belonged to another family at one time. He acted like a domestic cat.
I was living in a house in Salt Lake City with a large yard that I was
meticulous about.
When
Sam decided that I was going to be his family I had just put Sassy to sleep.
Sassy was a dog we had from our days in California - difficult decision but one
that nonetheless had to be made. I then gave the other dog, Speedy, to my
ex-husband. This way there was just the two cats and two rats. I was not
looking for more animals. Period. Sam had other ideas. He started out by
stalking me, watching while I hung laundry or worked in the garden. He hid
unobtrusively under a plant or near the house. Whoa to any creature who
ventured into the yard! He screeched and chased away all cats who wandered into
his new-found territory. He brought me gifts of dead rats and birds that
somehow found their way into the area. He was also emaciated. Kaymae was not
yet spayed so Sam could not come inside. I put together a shelter on the back
porch that he could go inside and eat. He ate but never stayed inside. I worked
down the street about 5 blocks or so and the kids commented on where I lived.
They said it was where the black cat sat.
My
kids were living with their dad then. I was working 2 jobs, going to school
full time and completing internship hours. I was never home. Still, Sam waited
for me. Just about every night I arrived at 10:30. Many were the nights of
heavy rain. Still, there he was, waiting at the front porch. He was neutered
that following October and finally able to live inside. Sam grew into a
healthy, opinionated boss of the home. This was now his domain. He was
completely comfortable attacking others who invaded his space, including
humans. Sam had no qualms about swatting anyone who passed by him without his
permission or walked past his lighting as he basked in the sunlight.
So,
there are 3 human beings and 3 cats living in this small space. We now had a
creature that is fond of them and they didn’t know what to do! Jack could no
longer be kept in the kitchen behind the gates. He was growing and hopping
higher. The cats, of all things, were intimidated by Jack’s incessant chasing them.
There had to be a humane solution to this. We gave in and bought a crate that
fit snuggly under the kitchen table. He was let out now and then, mostly then.
The
novelty fell to the wayside and the smell increased. Thinking of his emotions of
being cooped up for days on end, we made the decision to find a better home for
him. We advertised on a local news website and within a couple of hours a home
was found that could accommodate him better. Sadness and relief jumbled into
one, we grieved for a couple of days and moved on.
As
I gathered the information for this, I asked Brook, now a mother living in
California, for clarification. Oh my! Again, she had me made out to be a fool!
The truth of the matter suddenly spilled out as if, “Oh, you didn’t know?” She bought
Jack for $50 along with a purse to hide him in. No one suspected a thing.
For
years I could not get into that drawer without thinking of Jack; all the while
missing my children’s childhood. I think of their antics as I drive through
town, especially my daughter’s since she was the perpetrator of so many! I can
certainly appreciate the learning curve and find myself reminiscing through the
memory of my teen years and the grief I put my parents through.
And
while I do not condone Brook’s actions, I do not regret the experience. It
lends a significant longing. Too, my kids knew that I would care for something
no matter what; and if we honestly, truly, could not, we would find a suitable
home for it. They knew that no matter what they do – right or wrong – I am
safe. People make mistakes. People learn
from their mistakes. Hopefully, people will make better choices because of what
they learned from those mistakes. Mistakes give us the precious experience to
grow. Isn’t that what a successful life is about? Kelli McDonald 6/2/12
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