ARTICLE: A New Arrival In My Life

IMAGE SOURCE~©MELANIE NEER~PERSONAL PHOTO

Composite photo of "Ouija"

This article was originally written for the Bubblews website on May 7, 2013, which no longer exists

The very first article I wrote here at Bubblews was about the grief I felt with the passing of my black cat Pyewacket three years ago. I've had cats since I was five years old, and have loved them all, but some pets stick in our hearts more and have a more special meaning to our lives. In the case of Pyewacket, he seemed to have come into my life when it was the most turbulent, it was almost as if his arrival in my life at that particular time was to act as a helper during those years.

Deep inside I knew I wanted to adopt another cat, specifically a black cat, as throughout my life, on and off, I've had black cats. I never had any superstitions about black cats, especially about them being bad luck, if anything I considered them good luck and had a unique quality all their own. Still, as much as I longed to get another black cat, I just couldn't bring myself to do so. I still had my Kissy, a grey tabby and she became "queen" of the domain for nearly three years.

Then beginning last year I was starting to have what could only be described as "panicky" thoughts. Those rather dumb thoughts that circulate in one's mind over and over again. You see I was realizing that Kissy was getting on in years, she's 13 years old. And yes, I'm hoping and praying she has many, many more years of life with me, but that panicky thought came that, OMG, what if I wake up one day and found she was gone from my life. When Pyewacket died I feel into a deep depression and was almost non-functional, so the idea that Kissy might pass on would be too much for me to bear.

Then around October of last year, there was an on-line auction with the Grayson County Humane Society in Leitchfield, KY over at Facebook. There were a variety of items one could bid on, but there was also the opportunity to be a cosponsor for one of the cats at their shelter. I came across one such cat, named "Dot"…he was primarily black but with a white "dot" on his chest, so I chose him to cosponsor along with two other people. Time moved on and I thought to myself, well why not take it to the next level? Why not, instead of just being a cosponsor, why not adopt him?

It took about a month in the making. I filled out the on-line application and crossed my fingers that my application for adoption went through and was accepted. It was. Now came the tricky part. I couldn't have him right away, as transportation had to be arranged as the Grayson County Humane Society, and thus "Dot" was in KY…I'm here in the NYC area. But yes, transportation was arranged for not only Dot but for several other pets who were being transported to their new forever homes as far as Maine!

On December 1, 2012, Dot officially came to my home. Kissy who is timid and will hide when strangers are about and she did indeed hide when the transporter came to my place…Kissy had no idea what she was in for. Lindsey the transporter let Dot out of the carrier and he came trotting right over to me as if we were old buddies and had been in my life all along. I was hoping that Lindsey could have stayed a bit longer, but she had to start the trek back to KY. So now it was just me and Dot, and of course, Kissy. Dot began investigating all over the place as if to check it out, in fact he explored the bedroom and hopped on my bed…LOL..this cat was taking over the joint!

I soon discovered that Dot didn't just have a white dot on his chest, but also some white on his "armpits" area and white on the lower part of his stomach. I also realized I really didn't care for his shelter name, I wanted something different. I was thinking of renaming him Shadow, but already had had a Shadow in years past, then thought of Salem, nope, then Binx, as in the name of the boy in the movie Hocus Pocus that had been turned into a black cat; nope, didn't care for that either. I was even tempted to maybe call him Pyewacket II…that idea quickly dissolved. About two nights after Dot had come into my life, it hit me. I was drifting off to sleep and the word Ouija struck me…this, Dot became Ouija.

Ouija isn't exactly a "kitten", I'm figuring he's about a year old already, but he sure as heck has kitten energy and definitely keeps me on my toes; he follows me around like a puppy dog, is very, very affectionate and loves to keep me company while I'm sleeping.

How does my Kissy take to Ouija? Uh, not too well. Even though some months have passed, she continues to hiss and growl at him, and maybe even swat him on the head when he comes near her. I often feel sorry for Ouija since I sense since he sees another kitty in the house he simply wants to play with her. I can at least be thankful that there hasn't been WWIII here, and sometimes I even catch them side by side eating from the same plate of food, even though I have two separate plates for them. I've come to the realization that the two of them aren't going to be cuddle bugs.

The photo I include here is Ouija the very first day he came to me on December 1st.

UPDATE: Sadly on Septmeber 1, 2015, my other cat Kissy did indeed pass on. She was 15 years old. I used to name her "picklepuss" due to the way she never took to Ouija. I sure miss that "picklepuss" though. Composite Photo of Kissy

A VERY SPECIAL VALENTINE'S to SOMEONE I LOVE so DEAR

(Originally Published at Yahoo.Voices formerly Associated Content~2/16/2012)

Also published as a "Note" on Facebook

ABSTRACT: A Valentine's Day dedication of love from a very different perspective, and dedicated to those who have loved their pets who have passed on, and still miss them in their lives and who understand...it's "not just a cat or dog"

I just needed and wanted to let you know, that here it is Valentine's Day,
I wanted you to know just how much I have loved you
and have always loved you from the moment I met you.

I wanted you to know how special you were in my life.
I loved all the times I cuddled up next to you, while you were lying in bed
and trying to read, yet being selfish and I didn't want you to read, since I wanted your love and attention solely on me...yes I was selfish, but that's how much I loved you.

I wanted you to know how special you were in my life.
All those times I would cuddle up next to you on the sofa, while watching TV,
feeling safe and secure with you since I knew you loved me,
and I loved you...oh how I loved you and still do.

I wanted you to know how special you were in my life.
And especially now I want you to know how special you were in my life
And yes, oh yes, I DO know how much you loved me, since I know you still grieve for me.

I wanted you to know how special you were in my life.
I felt your pain and anguish, that day, that day, that took you and myself
away from us forever.

I wanted you to know how special you were in my life.
That day that took us apart.
I felt your anguish that day.
When you realized I was gone,
You cradled me to your bosom like a baby and rocked me back and forth.
And in anguish and with tears, calling out my name over and over again,
Still not believing I was gone from your life.

I wanted you to know how special you were in my life.
You may not see me now.
You may not hear me anymore now.
You may not feel my cuddles anymore now.
But I'm still here.
I'm still with you and will always be in your heart.

On this Valentine's Day
I just wanted you to know....

I still love you and will be with you always.

Love all my love,
Pyewacket

©Melanie Neer~I dedicate this to all who have pets no longer in their lives and still feel the pain of their passing.

SACHIKO: MY FIRST REAL BOTTLE BABY KITTEN

First published at Bubblews~May 17, 2014. Website no longer exists now

Also as a "Note" on Facebook

By the time 1987 rolled around I've had cats for some twenty-five years, that's right twenty-five years since my first cat I had was when I was about five years old. My first cat Babette, a "tuxedo' cat, that being a black a white cat, was a Christmas present to me from my mother. In those twenty-five years, a good number of cats had come our way, and yes, sadly many deaths in the"family". In 1987 my mother and I had a total of six cats, named Jennie, E.T., Tippy, Bobbie, Taffy and Willie. Little did I know I was to have a new arrival. Nearly everyone, especially our neighbors who knew my mother and myself knew us as the "cat people" while most of our neighbors had dogs.

On June 13, 1987, it was a typical warm summer day. Both my mother and I were home when our doorbell rang. We weren't expecting anyone but we answered the door anyway. Standing before us were a group of the neighborhood kids, two of the kids I was familiar since they lived down the block and I was friends with their mother, while the four other kids were friends of theirs. Well we invited the kids in and one of the kids was holding a box. When my mother and I peered into the box we were in for a surprise. Inside the box was a litter of six kittens, and not only were they kittens but were newborn kittens: they must have been born that very day, as not only were their eyes shut closed, ears flat against their heads, but all still had their umbilical cords attached. The one son of my friend down the block explained to me that they had all been playing, when all the kids started hearing the unmistakable sounds of the meows of kittens in the garbage area of the apartment building. Upon opening up one garbage cans, the kids were naturally horrified in discovering the boxful of kittens thrown out like so much trash. Since the two sons of my friend knew I had cats, the first person they thought of to take these little newborns was myself.

The two sons and their four friends were all interested in how to take care of such young newborn kittens and asked question after question as some of them wanted to take a kitten home and take care of it. Now first off, when I say "kids" I don't mean that any of them were in the six to eight year old range, but rather in their early teens, therefore old enough to be responsible. I did actually have some experience in taking care of a very young kitten, when during my high school years some fifteen years prior, some of my friends had come across a young kitten, and yes, as you can guess gave the kitten to me. And while not exactly a newborn kitten, Patchouli, as I was to name her, still needed to be bottle fed until completely weaned. So here I was as I began rattling off about how and what to feed such young kittens by bottle feeding every so hours, and then needing to encourage the young kitten to do it's business by gently rubbing the bottom of the kitten with a slightly moistened paper towel, which in effect was a similar action to that of the mother cat that licks the baby's bottom. The two sons took one kitten, while each of their four friends took one of the other kittens in the litter, and I took one of the kittens as well, a black kitten.

After the kids left, I now had to do a lot of scrambling around. First up, I needed to set up something to keep the newborn kitten completely safe from my older cats. I found a medium-sized cardboard container, placed a soft small towel inside the container, then dragged out one of the pet carrier cases I had. I lined the bottom of the pet carrier with a larger towel and placed the cardboard container inside the carrier case with the kitten in it, locked it up, then, since my mother no longer slept on her bed but on the sofa, I placed the entire carrier on my mother's bed.

I then quickly dashed out to the local pet store to buy a few baby bottles and KMR (Kitten Replacement Milk). I was disappointed however that the pet store, while they had the replacement milk, didn't have pet baby bottles at the time, so I stopped in another store and bought the type of plastic baby bottle that toy baby dolls have. Yes, sounds silly, but take it from me, in a pinch they will do!

Well the moment I got home, I started warming up the KMR to give the newborn kitten it's first feeding. Heaven knows how long she and her litter mates had been in that garbage can and if any of the poor newborns even had a chance in having their first taste of their own mother's milk. Once heated up slightly, I sanitized the baby doll's bottle with hot water, snipped a bit of the top of the nipple of the bottle and carefully poured in the KMR. With bottle in hand, a slightly moistened paper towel and a small terry-cloth towel, now was time to feed the kitten. Gently taking her out of the pet carrier I wrapped her up into the small towel. There seemed to be no need to try and encourage the newborn to drink the milk, for as you can imagine the kitten was absolutely starving and began sucking on the bottle right away. After her feeding, I began rubbing her bottom to encourage her to make her "business" and placed her back into the cardboard container and then in the pet carrier. When several hours passed by, the routine began all over again. I had to feed her every two hours or so, day and night. Believe me when I say, that taking care of such an infant animal is just as demanding as taking care of an infant human baby. Can we say sleep deprived?

This new routine of mine was to last several weeks to come until the kitten, whom by now I had named Sachiko, was completely weaned. One thing I do have to mention about while I was taking care of Sachiko and when I think of it, was rather comical and just why I did it, eludes me. Newborn kittens have their eyes completely shut, therefore can't see, they also have their ears flattened down near their heads and aren't' able to hear either. However they do have a keen sense of smell. Often, while Sachiko was still in the non-seeing, non-hearing phase, there would be times I would have to go into the bedroom to get something, and here I'd be quietly sneaking in, not making a noise. Why I haven't a clue since as I said, she couldn't see or hear me yet, but yes, she had that keen sense of smell and no doubt smelled my scent. She had quickly imprinted the fact that my scent represented "mom" to her; I was her mother, she had known no other.

Sachiko was to grow into a healthy, strong and beautiful black cat whom she had just a touch of white on her chest. No doubt due to the fact that I had raised her from such a young infant age, she became what I call a "velcro" cat, meaning she bonded with me rather intensely. Had the experience in raising her from newborn stage been time demanding? Yes it was, but it was also a joy to do and an experience that even after all these years, I'll never forget.

Sachiko~June 13, 1987~September 7, 1999

Photo~©MELANIE NEER~Sachiko at 17 days old

Originally Published at Bubblews on May 17, 2014 but website no longer exists

My Love For Animals

©M. Neer. All rights reserved. No photo may be used without permission


HOW IT ALL BEGAN WITH MY LIFE WITH PETS


Hi, there. My name is Melanie, and I've had pets ever since I can remember, and now that I'm 52, I could never imagine life or be without some little furbaby companion, just as I'm sure many of you couldn't imagine being without an animal companion of some kind.

To be honest, I think it was my mother's idea to think in terms of having a pet, rather than me being a pesky child begging her to have a pet. She herself grew up with pets. My mother and father were married on December 4, 1954, I was born November 19, 1955, and my parents were divorced on December 7, 1957. Since my father's side of the family were in California, where I was born, my mother came back home to home base, which was Jackson Heights, NY. So my mother and I (my only being a year and a half old) moved into and with her mother and grandmother. So it was my great-grandmother, grandmother, mother and I all living at the same large apartment.

During the years of 1957 to 1961, in which we remained living there, we never had pets that I can remember, maybe just goldfish. But sorry, one can't, or at least I couldn't really relate to fish as a pet. When my grandmother, mother and I moved out of my great-grandmother's apartment (oh, yes she was still alive, by the way) in October of 1961, I guess it didn't take long for my mother to realize that maybe there was something missing in our lives....a pet. So on December 8, 1962, a little over a year that we had moved into our new apartment, my mother went to the then Greenwich Village Humane League and picked out our first pet, a black and white kitten.

It probably could be viewed that my mother got the kitten as sort of a Christmas present to me, but as I hinted before, I think it was she who wanted a pet more, and named the kitten Babette, which is the French for Barbara...uh, which just happened to be my mother's name...strange coincidence when I think of it now.

Well I hope I don't get pet lovers up in arms against me, but if I had judged how cats were in general by this first cat, I probably would never have had another cat again. To put it mildly she wasn't the most affectionate of cats...very aloof, and very much a loner, despite the love we all gave her. Yet I have to admit one of the great distinctions about Babette was that she literally saw me grow up. Here I was about six years old, and in elementary school when I she came into my life, and she went to "Rainbow Bridge" on December 3, 1977 the same year (in June) when I had graduated college.

I actually managed to dig up a photo of both me and Babette taken September 1965 when I was 9-1/2 years old