Writing Exercise October 22, 2010

1) my first pet was...
2) a favorite pet memory
3) write from the perspective of an animal (pet or otherwise)

Pinky was my first pet,  a collie dog almost as big as me.  Why did we call him Pinky, I wonder.  I really don't remember that part, but that was his name.  At eight, I was carted off to Shriner's Hospital for my first back surgery. I was away for 3 months.  Two adults could visit me each Sunday, but other than that, no visitors.  Usually it was Mother who came to visit. She brought books, paper, color crayons, or a new outfit that she had sewn for my Madame Alexander doll, Anne.  But even with all the entertainment that the hospital staff provided; and even with all the distractions of our school room, club meetings, meals and some tv; even with such a busy schedule, I missed Pinky, his warmth and the security he always provided.  So I have good memories of our dog, but very sad memories of how he died. When we moved to a farm a few years later, he ate coyote poison that had been left in a sheep carcass to trap the marauder "pest" that was killing members of our flock.   Pinky did not know that we didn't think of him as a wild animal. We thought of him as one of the family.  

My favorite pet memory is quite recent. Did you know that cats can play fetch?  Well, I never, never would have believed it because over the years the cats we have owned, really owned us.  They were primarily aloof, only friendly on their own terms and very exacting about when they wanted to be fed. And heavens forbid if you ever forgot to clean the catbox.  But Lola is different.  Not just in a few ways, but in every way. We found her on Craigslist where her previous owners announced that they were interviewing prospective adoptive parents for their 3-year old cat. She could not go with them on their next Air Force assignment, so they hoped to assuage their guilt by finding the best possible home for her. We passed the test and won this beautiful young cat as the prize.   

My most delighted memory is from later, at home.  One evening she came toward me with a plastic bottle cap in her mouth, dropped it and stood by expectantly staring at me.  "What?" I asked.  She backed up a little, but still kept her eyes on mine.  So just for fun, I picked up the bottle cap and threw it.  She ran backwards and caught it, brought it back to me and dropped it at my feet.  An interactive cat?!  What a phenomenon. 

Hi, my name is Lola.  My first humans were a little mistaken about my name, however.  They called me "Neveah," which I guess is one of their important words, backwards.  But when I realized that I was getting new humans, I told the new lady, "My name is not what they told you. It is really Lola and always has been."  As soon as my new human called me "Lola," I realized we were going to be fast friends. She understood me!  Now don't get me wrong. It has been a long, slow process in training. Day and night I have to work on what else they need to learn. But I think they appreciate that I only want their happiness, so if they learn what is good for me, they likewise find out what is good for them.