“Secondhand animals make first-class pets.”
— Author unknown. I’m guessing a street-smart cat or a dog in the PR business.
I’m an “appreciator of secondhand treasures.”
Guilty. Old car. Old records. Nice sounding aged guitars.
And critters.
A house without a dog or a cat isn’t complete, and a dog or cat without a home is sad. It’s no doubt quieter and a little more organized home, but to me, animals just pick up where the kids left off after growing up and moving out.
Mom had cats.
Typically, walk-ons. That’s probably why, as soon as I bought my first house up in Mount Pleasant 50 years ago, the first thing I did wasn’t buy furniture. I adopted a cat.
Second kitty came April 24, 1974, a date etched in my memory as the day of my first solo flight while under the tutelage of instructor Doyle Amerson at the old Mount Pleasant Municipal Airport. The take-offs and landings came out even, fortunately. With feet back on the ground and ensuing new pilot celebrations done, I followed up on a lead.
Someone knew I was looking for a “gimme cat.”
Two kittens were ready for adoption. I took both, certain mom would welcome one. They looked like a mixture of Siamese and traveling salesman.
I gave mine the catchy name of “Kitty,” and she traveled with me to other destinations before we ended up in Center about five years later. During that time, she watched my family grow. And I never hesitated to warn them all, “Be careful, Kitty’s been in the family longer than any of you have.”
That lasted until my son came along. Lee was, shall we say, a “high-energy” youngster. In some households, cats climb curtains and bounce off furniture. At our house, the cat watched and learned from Lee.
When Kitty failed to show up for her last chow call, we were never sure if something had happened to her or if she ran out of nerve pills. Just packed her bags and hit the road.
She did attempt at last one escape. Next-door neighbors, Kenneth and Theron Sanders, were loading their travel trailer one morning with plans of a stay in Galveston.
We wished them well, G promising to keep an eye on things while they were away.
The following day, Kitty was nowhere to be seen. After a week went by, we were sure she was gone for good.
A few days later, however, the Sanders returned home with a cat riding high in the front seat between them.
Seems that as our neighbors were packing their trailer with the door open, curiosity didn’t kill the cat, thankfully, but it earned her a week at the beach. According to Theron, at their first fuel stop, the wide-eyed look of a cat peering through a trailer window was, shall we say, startling.
After discovering the stowaway, the Sanders made an extra stop for cat food and litter box and welcomed Kitty to the party.
Other pets came and went after that, and all of them re-runs. One, a terrier mix my daughter, Robin, adopted. Known as “Buggie,” she was thrown away—literally. Someone put the puppy in a box and placed it with our curbside trash one morning. The dog would have perished with the garbage had the trash collectors not heard noises in the box. Instead, the dog was rescued and became Robin’s best friend. The pair shared lots of love for many years.
A basset named “Max” made memories my kids and I in the Hill Country.
The dog was, again, an old gentleman needing a new home. Max was duly documented in many of columns over the years.
He spent occasional Fridays at the newspaper office sleeping beside my desk, earning him the nickname “Office Max.”
So, today my herd numbers ...? I’m really not sure. Let’s see: Pretty Boy, Fuzzy, Marshmallow, Cat-Zilla, Little Tom, Last Walk-on, Pain-inthe- Rear, Willie Ray, and Toothpick.
They think I don’t know it, but they send text messages all over the neighborhood about free meals down on the corner. Even a couple of raccoons have dropped in during feeding frenzy time.
“A house becomes a home when you add some four furry leggers and that indescribable measure of love that comes with them.”
I don’t know who said that either, but I’m convinced nothing defines a culture or person more than how they treat animals.
Unless maybe it’s their appreciation for old cars,
