Thought for Today
Life
Remembering Sweet Claude …
In Memory of Claude
July 1998 – August 17, 2013
Rescued from Hillside, NJ RR bridge – August 1998
He had only 3 places to go. Over the fence and a 100′ drop to the railroad tracks below, into the traffic crossing the railroad bridge, or into my hands. He chose to climb the fence. Thanks to the help of a kind passerby, the tiny feral kitten ended up in my hands. In fact, he ended up squalling loudly while I held him against my left shoulder with one hand and drove the rest of the way to work. It was a day when I normally didn’t come in to work, on a route I never went but for the backed-up traffic that day. I even passed him by, thinking he was a crumpled piece of paper – that’s how tiny he was – before my brain went “KITTEN!” and I backed up for a closer look.
In our Medical Dept., he was assessed at 5 weeks old, too young to get shots and at risk of becoming very ill in the city shelter. So I decided to take care of him until he was old enough to be adopted. He stayed with me in my office during the day and I took him home at night. I’d set him up a huge dog crate with blankets, food, water, litter – everything he needed. He was so tiny I was afraid he’d get lost or trapped somewhere in the house. And he screamed. I shut the door to the room, let him 
out, and Claude made a beeline for my pit bull terrier Chloe’s chin and curled up underneath. From that moment on they became inseparable … he found the mom he’d always needed.
My thoughts of putting him up for adoption in the shelter were abandoned in the face of their devotion to each other, and that’s how Claude’s life began – loved by his dog and human moms.
Claude was a healthy and very happy, easygoing guy. He survived Chloe, who passed away at 15-1/2, as well as his two cat buddies Mewsette and Gypsy Rose who left us in the last year and a half. He was without a doubt the nudgiest animal I’ve ever known, but also beyond 
affectionate, cuddly, funny and extremely trusting. He stretched out anywhere on his back, totally vulnerable, knowing he was always safe and loved. And did I mention vocal? We won’t even go there.
Life was sweet for Claude until a little over a week ago when he experienced a mild, seizure-like event. Unfortunately, these progressed rapidly and in number and severity that it became clear there was only one thing to do. I told him where we were going Saturday morning and what would be happening. I bathed us in white light and asked who would meet Claude on the other side. In a heartbeat I saw Chloe … her bunny ears up, eyes bright, and she was dancing from side to side, so eager to see her “baby” once again.
Claude left peacefully in a second to join his mom and left me to reflect on how lucky I, as well as he, was that day when I was sent to work the “back way” and over a railroad bridge where someone needed desperately to be found.
Home will never be the same without you, Claudie.
Look Who’s in My Neighborhood
Although I am surrounded by country, I do live “in-town,” as they say. But perhaps it is exactly because open space surrounds us that there is no shortage of wildlife so close to our homes.
Working at my computer just this past June, I looked out front and saw a doe nonchalantly strolling down the street. She did not observe the Stop sign, but continued walking, looking for the tastiest greens she could find. Unfortunately, this is at a particular neighbor’s home who happens to be the most ardent gardener for a few blocks around. Of course! She has the delicacies!
But Ms. Doe wasn’t stopping and no sooner was she out of sight, than she came through the hedges bordering my property and casually walked down my driveway at an angle. This made me believe this may be is who is responsible for the deer tracks I see in the snow in roughly the same places – she must have a route.
Today I looked up and saw … the same doe? a different doe? and her still-spotted fawn. Mama could easily scale that white picket fence for the best nibbles while baby clearly hasn’t yet mastered leaping hurdles. I was able to go outside and get a few shots before the more worried fawn walked further down the road.
While I enjoy watching animals of all kinds, having deer so at-home in our neighborhood isn’t good. They have become accustomed to our smells and sounds and are no longer frightened. The offspring they produce will become even more acclimated to being around people. It is certainly wreaking havoc on our properties as the deer now consume shrubbery and flowers year-round even though there is plenty of browse in the nearby woods and fields.
Sadly, it just creates more enmity towards these beautiful creatures, even referred to by some as “vermin.” It’s a problem for farmers as well as residents and a complex one, yet it is we who have taken more and more of their land through endless development. It’s not a problem with an easy solution.
Meanwhile, I truly do enjoy seeing them even though they have “deer-scaped” the plantings around my home as well.
The Walking Reward
I am not ashamed to admit it. I do not like to exercise. (Although I do love to dance. That’s exercise, right?)
Over the course of my life I have at times been a jogger and a regular walker. Once I got out there, it was okay, but I could think of soooooo many things I’d rather be doing. The time has come that I need and want, (very abstractly), to get out there once again. My incentive? I’d bring my camera and hope that might help.
So I made use of it and took some shots of the beautiful garden flowers that so many of the folks in my town take the time to plant and tend.
Will it be enough inspiration for tomorrow? I guess we’ll see.
Fishing for Heartbreak
When I was a child of 10 or 11, my Dad suggested we all go fishing at Cooper’s Pond in the town nearby. He made it sound like fun, so off we went.
Cooper’s Pond was a lovely park, the same place our family went to enjoy picnics or walking. On these outings, I brought along my Brownie camera that I’d been given at 9 years old, and I loved taking photos of the ducks on the pond as well as feeding them. What wouldn’t be enjoyable about fishing?
We didn’t have real fishing poles, just long sticks to which my Dad had secured some kind of line, maybe string, with a hook on the end. On the hooks, we put a piece of bread, and then we cast our lines into the water. It didn’t take long before I got a nibble, and something tugged at my line. My father got all excited, and instructed me to pull it toward me and then lift it out of the water.
There on the end of my line was a carp, probably only about 7″ long, writhing and twisting to free itself of the hook I had managed to snag in its sensitive mouth. I was horrified that I was the cause of this poor creature to be flailing about so, and I immediately began to cry, screaming, “Daddy, take it off! Daddy, take it off!” Daddy removed the hook from the fish and gently let him go back in the water, but I was inconsolable.
Who was I to have caused this animal such pain and make him fight for his life? As a child, I had not been able to make the connection between “having fun fishing” and the reality of a fish writhing on the end of my hook until I saw the results firsthand. I was heartbroken, I who fed all the ducks in that exact same spot, I who loved all animals from the earliest age I can remember.
It wasn’t until many years later, even still, that I made the next major connection that the meat or fish I cooked and ate had once been a sentient being. This is not what we’re ever told as children. The meat or fish served at meals appeared as a finished dish, prepared in some usually delicious way. One had nothing to do with the other.
The constantly evolving realization over time that the food on my plate had indeed been a living creature … and one who most likely suffered enormously before getting to my plate … enabled me to gradually eliminate almost all meat and fish from my diet in recent years. This is a plus as I move along the path to becoming vegan, but the earliest seeds of this transformation were sown when a little girl went fishing and found a humble carp to be her teacher.
Here is a dilemma I ponder nowadays … how, in writing children’s books, can I impart to young readers, without scaring them to death, of course, that the animals they eat for dinner are no different in their capacity for contentment or pain than the animals they love as pets? That animals from chickens to elephants, honeybees to pigs, have complex lives of their own, social structures, families, attachments to their babies, and that maybe it’s not the right thing – the kind thing – to use them for our own ends, to cause them such suffering. Is it enough to simply engender a love and appreciation of animals?
Still A Dreamer 