LatinosUSA

We had them all: cats, dogs, horses, rabbits, birds, squirrels, even a Yertle the Turtle. Each had its own language. We learned by listening and imitating, even if our barks and neighing didn’t quite match their voices. What did these animal friends contribute to our family?

Cats dominated our households. Their personalities varied by breed. Although their affection seemed more distant than a dog’s, it could be as strong. There was Bazaar, who slept atop my head and lulled me with his purring, used his flight-and-attack instincts on all other humans, and bit if someone else tried to stroke him. We had proud hunters in the group and a shy female, Feathers, who sunned on our windowsill and never dared the outside. Many cats were as watchful as our dogs when a stranger approached the house. Their ears perked up, and their coats bristled while our friendly spaniel, Rolf, slept soundly as a thief entered the garage. Cat Findling used our apartment building’s fire escape at night, only to reappear on the windowsill by morning. Our son-in-law climbed up trees and across roofs with a burlap bag to rescue frightened kittens. And much to my liking, cats are fastidious. No wet pawmarks on the carpet.

Dogs were play companions. How much fun it was to toss them a frisbee! They could be loyal and watchful, alert and smart. Roger used to bring his leash to the back door exactly when his daily walk was scheduled. He was always ready for the 6 o’clock news hour. He lumbered up the stairs to the loft, and positioned himself on the throw rug in front of the TV, awaiting our arrival. Winston, a water dog, wanted to rescue anybody jumping into our pool. Our Cairn terrier, Princess, refused to die until our daughter returned from her college break.

Horses were the most sensual creatures. If you’ve ever sat bareback on a horse, and feel its flanks with your legs, you’ll know what I mean. No wonder that horses serve as therapeutic masters, stimulating the nervous system. There is a German saying: “Das höchste Glück der Erde liegt auf dem Rücken der Pferde” (The highest joy lies on the back of a horse). Grabbing mane and letting your steed take off is like flying across the earth with the wind. Having intense sensory perceptions, a horse can hear you coming through the vibrations of your footsteps.

We trailered our mare, Pandora, from Texas to Montana for my husband’s visiting professorship at the University in Missoula. We left Texas in August but returned in January during snowy, blustery days. Our mare adjusted quickly to the Montana herd where we boarded her. Her coat thickened, and this southern-bred-and-raised horse faced wild roaming deer and loved romping in the snow.

During our trek, we encountered the generous hospitality of Horse Motel owners. Arriving one evening frozen and drenched from an ice storm, hay, grain, and a warm blanket awaited our mare. We stayed in a nearby motel. When we came to fetch our mare the following morning, steaming coffee mugs greeted us. Our horse blanket, wet from the previous day, was laundered and dried. 

One of our daughters rescued a baby squirrel from the fangs of a cat, and after preventive shots, Fritzchen became tame. But no curtain was safe, and cushions and pillows were torn up to serve as hideouts. Finally, we had to find a tree at the zoo where Fritzchen happily joined his squirrel companions.

I once held a fledgling who fell from its nest in the palm of my hand. I felt its throbbing tiny heartbeat. My heart too began to beat fast.

We had tragedies, and the signs for a lost kitten or a cat, which we pinned on electrical poles, fences, and trees, were countless. One old cat got its tail bitten off by a night prowler. He survived, and we called him Stummelschwanz (Stumpy Tail). We left a male rabbit with his companion in the rabbit hutch. After the female gave birth, the father trampled his offspring. Saddest of all, one night we had to calm our mare when our vet had to pull her dead foal from her body. It had been strangled by the umbilical cord in utero.

Many of our animals died a natural death, but if they began to suffer, we called for help. We wanted to spare our animals the anxiety of being ferried to our vet’s office when dying. Instead, we called a mobile vet to come to the house. A cat or dog could get an injection while resting on our laps.

When our beloved mare, Pandora, grew old and increasingly defenseless against stray dog attacks in the pasture, she needed our assistance. It was time for a farewell. We led her, munching on carrots, to a deep blooming meadow. There, a tranquilizer made her sink to the ground. One daughter and I cradled her head on our laps and sang to her. Only after she was totally relaxed did the vet administer the lethal dose. Her heart stopped while trustingly gazing at us.

We observed many species in close proximity. Yearly, birds nested in flowerpots on our window boxes. Watching a snake rub off its skin on a rugged rock reminded us of our ability to change. Weeding in the garden, I rejoiced watching a sunning lizard or a slimy hopping frog. I let a snail crawl over the back of my hand and felt my skin quiver.

Animals represent symbols. Owls signified wisdom, elephants matriarchy, lions wilderness, and apes model as imitators. I was once confronted with a caregiving task involving my young grandkids, when at night a deer snuck into my dreams. Deer are symbols of parental caring in many cultures.

Animals show affection as well as dislike. They can be lifetime friends or switch with each new owner. They can mourn deeply or display joy.

We are connected to the animal world by sharing the earth. They remind us of our common task of keeping the environment safe and liveable. Animals teach us to become caretakers. We, in turn, can experience their companionship and affection, and see our surroundings with fresh eyes.