ALL BEINGS EXPERIENCE FEAR!!!

Our little cat, Rosie is a peach of a girl. She is a rescue cat like our other two and has been in our home for two and a half years. She is the youngest of the three and she is docile, except for the occasional swat (air paws) at the other two. She is so sweet and never is aggressive with us no matter what we may impose on her.

We need to impose when she gets eye infections, which she does frequently. It was explained to me by our vet, that it is likely she contracted a herpes virus before she came into our home. A herpes virus can present as conjunctivitis. Her poor eye closes up, gets weepy and looks very sore.

We usually treat it with an antibiotic cream and it clears up within two or three days. So when Rosie’s eye started to close up again four days ago, we sprang into action and started with the cream. She hates it, but she endures it. And I feel so sorry for her, because I feel like we are adding insult to injury. She tries to get out of my grasp, no question about that, but she never scratches me.

We are going away the day after tomorrow to visit our daughter and her family. Can’t wait to see those little grand-chiblets, BTW. I was concerned that Rosie’s eye would not clear up in time for us both to go. So, yesterday I called the vet and begged them to take pity on our situation and give me an appointment. They agreed, thankfully. Driving there is no problem, but getting Rosie in the cat carrier is quite another.

I brought the carrier up quietly so as not to tip her off. Chimpy, however, saw the offensive looking portable prison, did a double take and zoomed out of the room as fast as his little legs would carry him. I leaned the carrier against a wall with the door open and facing the sky. That way, I am hopeful that I can kind of pour the cat into the crate without too much fuss.

Now, let’s get the cat! Rosie is sleeping upstairs in one of her favorite chairs and I am able to scoop her up and head down the four steps to the living room. Halfway down, the jig is up. She starts to struggle, but I am able to hold on to her. Okay, hold the front paws, head first into the crate and whoops, she is managing to back out because she has her hind legs firmly planted on the sides of the crate and she is pushing with all her might. Two more tries and she is in the crate. But she is not happy! She is crying very loudly and trying to undo the latch. Did I tell you that she is also very smart? So we are in the car, Rosie’s crate is safely attached with the seat belt and we are on our way. There are so many mournful cries coming from Rosie’s little prison and nothing I say gives her any comfort.

Things do not improve in the waiting room at the vet. There are a lot of humans and nonhumans and a lot of noise. Rosie continues to fret. Suddenly, I notice a rather pungent odor in the air. It must be one of the other beings in the room, I think (read, hope). Surely it will dissipate. I wait a second, a minute, two minutes, three minutes……. I know it is Rosie. In her distress, she has both peed and pooped in her carrier. I manage to get some help, we have our appointment and scurry on home.

But the saga is not over for poor Rosie. She needs a bath and I have never ever tried to give a cat a bath before. We do okay! She protests and then resigns herself to the inevitable! Her reward is a long overdue supper!

All is well that ends well! Rosie is still safe here in her home, her eye is healing, the vet is a little richer and we are still planning to leave on our trip the day after tomorrow.

But the parallel between this story and the sad story of nonhuman animals everywhere caught in our insidious industries is too glaring not to mention. I saw that fear in Rosie, that fear of loss of control, of being in a strange place, of not knowing what is going to happen. And this from a cat who is well loved, well treated, safe from harm. I imagine the fear to be greatly magnified in nonhuman animals who are born into slavery, treated cruelly, deprived of their basic needs and then callously slaughtered.