Its been approximately four and one half years since I first came across Rusty. While going to fellowship services one beautiful February morning, there appeared on the chapel grounds the most distressed looking Chow I have ever seen. He was terribly emaciated, frightened and untrusting. Probably he had been abused, neglected and abandoned by some uncaring person at one time in his life, or perhaps he had always been a “dog of the streets”.
As I cautiously approached him, I noticed what little coat he had left was terribly matted, and lesions covered his entire body, causing uncontrollable itching, bleeding and pain. When I gazed into his big brown eyes, I saw the forlorn look of loneliness and despair. But I also sensed within him a deep spiritual soul begging him on and telling him “you’re going to be okay, my friend”. Tears welled and my heart went out to him. It was in that moment I realized that this sad and fearful animal somehow reminded me of my own unhappy, tortured childhood and I became determined to do all I could to give him a second chance at life.
Rusty continued to hang around the chapel grounds day after day as if he knew the dear lord would work through someone there to give him that second chance at life. I became that someone, bringing him food, water and pats on the head daily for the next month or so. Whenever I arrived he was anxiously waiting for me. The bond between us became inseparable.
Rusty was finally picked up and taken to the local animal shelter, and with the help of my canine rescue friend, Sharon Levy, released and hospitalized for long term medical treatment and rehabilitation. Rusty became one handsome, healthy Chow with a “teddy bear” face and a delightful personality. Sadly, the pet regulations of my community kept me from adopting him. Consequently, Rusty was taken to the desert humane society’s Orphan Pet Oasis, an extraordinary “no Kill” sanctuary in North Palm Springs, California, where he will happily remain until he is adopted or goes to “doggie heaven”. Meanwhile this wonderful canine has become my very special “pet away from home”.
I visit Rusty as often as possible, to play with him, give him some goodies and take him on long, brisk walks. He is always excited and happy to see me, as I am to see him.. This wonderful “born again” Chow has taught me so much about unconditional love and trust, but above all, about being grateful. Thank you Rusty, my friend. May God bless you and keep you well. You will forever be in my heart and thoughts.
Mel Salvat
Cathedral City, California
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Remembering Jason
Recently, I thought about the day when Jason first came into my life and stayed with me for sixteen wonderful years. The day he passed away was truly one of the most heart wrenching days of my life. The sudden realization of never seeing him again was unbearable. I thought about the day I met Jason, and how our meeting came to be. My girl friend, Kelly, called me that morning to tell me she found a kitten roaming about the department store parking lot where she just finished shopping. She said “honey, I remember you telling me how much you wanted to get a cat. Well, you just have to see this little guy. He’s just adorable”
So I rushed out to meet Kelly, sitting in her car on the parking lot. There, perched on her shoulder was this tiny, bright eyed, orange and white, four legged fuzz ball. When I picked him up, he nudged against my cheek, started purring and began kneading the front of my neck. He certainly was a friendly little guy, but had a terrible smell from feces residue caked in his coat. It was nothing that soap and water couldn’t cure, so I decided to take him to my apartment (picking up cat food and a litter box along the way) and give him a bath (an event most cats find very distasteful). But he began purring at full volume when the warm water ran over his body. After his bath, I put him down on the floor, and his innate curiosity instantly kicked in to begin checking out every nook and cranny in the place.
The next day, when I came home from work, he was nowhere to be found. I searched everywhere, so I thought. “But where could he be”? He just couldn’t vanish into thin air! In my fear and frustration, I sat on the sofa to think and gather my thoughts. Did I miss some secret hiding place he happened to come upon? When I leaned back against a cushion, I heard a loud squeal behind me, and lo and behold, there he was, curled up behind the cushion, nervously glaring back at me as if to ask “why did you sit on me? I picked him up to calm him and, as if he understood, asked him to forgive me. It was then I decided to name him “Jason”, a name I felt just seemed to fit him. In the ensuing years, Jason and I bonded intensely and became the best of pals. He loved getting his baths and followed me around wherever I went, like a puppy dog in a cats body. Some people think all cats are snobbish, unsociable creatures that simply put on acts to get what they want from their masters. But Jason was nothing like that, adding so much to my experience of life with his love and concern, and his totally unbridled companionship. Jason grew up to be quite a large, long haired ”tabby” and constantly shed wherever he went. There was hair everywhere, even in the refrigerator. How it got there always astonished me. On bright sunny days he enjoyed sitting out on the balcony and peering down thru the railing bars, watching people going to and fro, while wearing the harlequin style sunglasses I brought to protect his eyes from the bright sun. It became an almost daily ritual that comically endeared him to everyone in the building.
Our relationship went on for the better part of sixteen years. Then, one day, I noticed him getting quite thin and lethargic, gradually losing his appetite and the desire to go prancing around the house. He got progressively worse, day after day and was becoming a pretty sick kitty. So I took him to the vet to find out what was going on. After an extensive checkup and many tests, it turned out that Jason, my loyal and wonderful best friend, was going into renal failure and the prognosis for his survival was not very good, maybe two months at best with proper medication, treatment, and lots of love. My heart ached and my eyes filled with tears at the thought that I would soon be without him. But there was nothing I could do except to shower him with the same love I had given him throughout his life and pray for happiness in his coming journey. For the next few weeks I would sleep on the sofa, picking him up to rest on the blanket crevassed between my legs. At first, he had enough strength to crawl up onto my chest and gaze mournfully into my eyes. Later on I had to lift him up to rest with me.
l like to think that Jason knew he was soon to enter a new world; a new life, and he finally did. After waking up one morning I noticed him lying on his side, legs outstretched, under the dining room table. He had passed during the night. His sightless eyes were wide open and I bent down to close them and kiss him goodbye. My veterinarian sent a staff member to recover Jason’s body and, at my request, have him cremated. His ashes were spread in the surf not far from where we lived. Jason was truly “A Cat For All Times”. I still think about him and miss him after all these years. Jason, “thank you for being a very big and important part of my life”.
Mel Salvat
Cathedral City, California
So I rushed out to meet Kelly, sitting in her car on the parking lot. There, perched on her shoulder was this tiny, bright eyed, orange and white, four legged fuzz ball. When I picked him up, he nudged against my cheek, started purring and began kneading the front of my neck. He certainly was a friendly little guy, but had a terrible smell from feces residue caked in his coat. It was nothing that soap and water couldn’t cure, so I decided to take him to my apartment (picking up cat food and a litter box along the way) and give him a bath (an event most cats find very distasteful). But he began purring at full volume when the warm water ran over his body. After his bath, I put him down on the floor, and his innate curiosity instantly kicked in to begin checking out every nook and cranny in the place.
The next day, when I came home from work, he was nowhere to be found. I searched everywhere, so I thought. “But where could he be”? He just couldn’t vanish into thin air! In my fear and frustration, I sat on the sofa to think and gather my thoughts. Did I miss some secret hiding place he happened to come upon? When I leaned back against a cushion, I heard a loud squeal behind me, and lo and behold, there he was, curled up behind the cushion, nervously glaring back at me as if to ask “why did you sit on me? I picked him up to calm him and, as if he understood, asked him to forgive me. It was then I decided to name him “Jason”, a name I felt just seemed to fit him. In the ensuing years, Jason and I bonded intensely and became the best of pals. He loved getting his baths and followed me around wherever I went, like a puppy dog in a cats body. Some people think all cats are snobbish, unsociable creatures that simply put on acts to get what they want from their masters. But Jason was nothing like that, adding so much to my experience of life with his love and concern, and his totally unbridled companionship. Jason grew up to be quite a large, long haired ”tabby” and constantly shed wherever he went. There was hair everywhere, even in the refrigerator. How it got there always astonished me. On bright sunny days he enjoyed sitting out on the balcony and peering down thru the railing bars, watching people going to and fro, while wearing the harlequin style sunglasses I brought to protect his eyes from the bright sun. It became an almost daily ritual that comically endeared him to everyone in the building.
Our relationship went on for the better part of sixteen years. Then, one day, I noticed him getting quite thin and lethargic, gradually losing his appetite and the desire to go prancing around the house. He got progressively worse, day after day and was becoming a pretty sick kitty. So I took him to the vet to find out what was going on. After an extensive checkup and many tests, it turned out that Jason, my loyal and wonderful best friend, was going into renal failure and the prognosis for his survival was not very good, maybe two months at best with proper medication, treatment, and lots of love. My heart ached and my eyes filled with tears at the thought that I would soon be without him. But there was nothing I could do except to shower him with the same love I had given him throughout his life and pray for happiness in his coming journey. For the next few weeks I would sleep on the sofa, picking him up to rest on the blanket crevassed between my legs. At first, he had enough strength to crawl up onto my chest and gaze mournfully into my eyes. Later on I had to lift him up to rest with me.
l like to think that Jason knew he was soon to enter a new world; a new life, and he finally did. After waking up one morning I noticed him lying on his side, legs outstretched, under the dining room table. He had passed during the night. His sightless eyes were wide open and I bent down to close them and kiss him goodbye. My veterinarian sent a staff member to recover Jason’s body and, at my request, have him cremated. His ashes were spread in the surf not far from where we lived. Jason was truly “A Cat For All Times”. I still think about him and miss him after all these years. Jason, “thank you for being a very big and important part of my life”.
Mel Salvat
Cathedral City, California
Bonzai
A California couple I’ve known for many years own a large, very sociable, yet covertly devious orange and white tabby, who, for all one knows, could be “Garfield’s” cousin. At a slim 23 pounds, Bonzai has been the “Master” of their household for over 8 years and obviously determined to hold the reins as long as he can.
On a brisk Thanksgiving morning, he was found by their daughter, Lara, wide eyed and shivering, lurking in the bushes on the front lawn, a pipsqueak of a kitten, maybe 3 to 4 weeks old, and so tiny he could easily nestle in the palm of a child’s hand. Surely, he must have been the runt of the litter. After a month of posting flyers throughout the neighborhood, no one called to claim him, so this itty bitty feline became the newest member of a wonderful, animal loving family. But Bonzai didn’t remain small for long, growing in size until he resembled Buddha, with a big, lovingly mischievous heart to match.
From day one, he was never afraid of people or dogs. He was a “pouncer”, and from a very early age, loved to hide under the couch, chairs and beds, just waiting for someone to walk by. He would then jump out and pretend to attack their shoe or leg, Even when he was smaller than a shoe, he was absolutely fearless. Once he attacked, he would jump straight up and dash back to where he was hiding. “Fun game”, he must have thought. If you watched him anticipate a surprise attack, he would wiggle his butt from side to side, ready to pounce out of seemingly nowhere, like the Japanese soldiers of World War II shouting their infamous battle cry “bonzai”, (bonz-eye) as they emerged from the bush to attack. And that’s how Bonzai got his name.
The house was, and remained Bonzai’s domain; his personal “Stage Of Performing Arts”, where he can show off his talent and many antics to the captive audience of his household and anyone else that happens to be around. From the getgo, Misty, the family dog, (a Lab, Sharpeii and Sheppard mix) bonded and got along very well with this new feline “intruder”. They slept together, played together and roamed together, with nary a scuffle interrupting their relationship. Then one day, enter Midnight (a Black Lab and Husky mix), the new “kid on the block”. She was quite hyper but intelligent, and had a tendency to be “socially stupid” (like not taking physical clues from other animals, always thinking everyone wanted to play). The day she came home, she ran into the house like a tornado, from room to room. Unannounced to Bonzai, sleeping peacefully on a rug in the master bedroom, she raced smack into him with a startling impact. And with all his weight, Bonzai was able to jump up and chase after Midnight, pinning her in a corner of the bathroom, where poor Midnight, who only wanted to be friendly, let loose all her bodily functions. Except for a possible twinge of shame, she was not physically hurt. After that, it was decided they would be better off separated, and have been kept so ever since. Bonzai has the run of the master bedroom during the day. Then at night, there is a “changing of the guard”, when Midnight takes over the master bedroom and Bonzai has the run of the rest of the house. Bonzai, to this day, is not afraid of Midnight, but she is very leery of him, respecting his turf and keeping her distance as best she can.
Bonzai, you are loved by all who have come to know you. Keep the show going, my friend!
Mel Salvat
Cathedral City, California
For Bonzai, Misty and Midnight, and their human family.
On a brisk Thanksgiving morning, he was found by their daughter, Lara, wide eyed and shivering, lurking in the bushes on the front lawn, a pipsqueak of a kitten, maybe 3 to 4 weeks old, and so tiny he could easily nestle in the palm of a child’s hand. Surely, he must have been the runt of the litter. After a month of posting flyers throughout the neighborhood, no one called to claim him, so this itty bitty feline became the newest member of a wonderful, animal loving family. But Bonzai didn’t remain small for long, growing in size until he resembled Buddha, with a big, lovingly mischievous heart to match.
From day one, he was never afraid of people or dogs. He was a “pouncer”, and from a very early age, loved to hide under the couch, chairs and beds, just waiting for someone to walk by. He would then jump out and pretend to attack their shoe or leg, Even when he was smaller than a shoe, he was absolutely fearless. Once he attacked, he would jump straight up and dash back to where he was hiding. “Fun game”, he must have thought. If you watched him anticipate a surprise attack, he would wiggle his butt from side to side, ready to pounce out of seemingly nowhere, like the Japanese soldiers of World War II shouting their infamous battle cry “bonzai”, (bonz-eye) as they emerged from the bush to attack. And that’s how Bonzai got his name.
The house was, and remained Bonzai’s domain; his personal “Stage Of Performing Arts”, where he can show off his talent and many antics to the captive audience of his household and anyone else that happens to be around. From the getgo, Misty, the family dog, (a Lab, Sharpeii and Sheppard mix) bonded and got along very well with this new feline “intruder”. They slept together, played together and roamed together, with nary a scuffle interrupting their relationship. Then one day, enter Midnight (a Black Lab and Husky mix), the new “kid on the block”. She was quite hyper but intelligent, and had a tendency to be “socially stupid” (like not taking physical clues from other animals, always thinking everyone wanted to play). The day she came home, she ran into the house like a tornado, from room to room. Unannounced to Bonzai, sleeping peacefully on a rug in the master bedroom, she raced smack into him with a startling impact. And with all his weight, Bonzai was able to jump up and chase after Midnight, pinning her in a corner of the bathroom, where poor Midnight, who only wanted to be friendly, let loose all her bodily functions. Except for a possible twinge of shame, she was not physically hurt. After that, it was decided they would be better off separated, and have been kept so ever since. Bonzai has the run of the master bedroom during the day. Then at night, there is a “changing of the guard”, when Midnight takes over the master bedroom and Bonzai has the run of the rest of the house. Bonzai, to this day, is not afraid of Midnight, but she is very leery of him, respecting his turf and keeping her distance as best she can.
Bonzai, you are loved by all who have come to know you. Keep the show going, my friend!
Mel Salvat
Cathedral City, California
For Bonzai, Misty and Midnight, and their human family.
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