WordSisters

Tag: Elizabeth di Grazia

  • 3-legged Cat

    3-legged Cat

    Antonio talking with Silver
    Antonio talking with Silver

    “I think we should put him down,” Antonio said through sobs. “I don’t want him to be in pain.”

    I never thought that I’d ever hear him say those words. This was his cat he was talking about. His Silver. I had recently written a blog post about Silver and his sister, Oreo.

    A coyote had crushed Silver’s back leg. We were looking at amputation.

    I put my arm around Antonio and rested my head on his. Through tears I told him how very brave he was. Jody echoed the same sentiment.

    How brave it was for him to see past his own want, his own need, to the life of his beloved pet.

    And, to his death.

    Antonio had experienced the death of two cats and a dog. Instead of the experience being tragic he participated in a welcoming end to a precious animal’s life. All of us, Jody, Crystel, Antonio, and me cried through each of the deaths and loved our companions to their last breath. The two cats and dog were either in our arms or one or two of us were lying next to the animal. Then we buried our buddy. Each taking turns shoveling the dirt.

    The Boys
    The Boys

    Thank you MNpets for coming to our home, always making it easy and giving us just the right amount of privacy. I believe Antonio’s experience with dying has made him able to see past his sorrow to the restfulness of a pet who will no longer have to suffer.

    Jody, Antonio, and I sat on the couch reminiscing about each companion that had died. Tears rolled down our cheeks. We talked about why we made the decision we did with each animal. You knew it was time.

    I told Antonio that I wasn’t sure that it was Silver’s time. Silver had continued to eat. An indication that he wanted to live. Antonio needed to talk to him. Spend time with him and see what Silver told him.

    “He’ll tell you,” I said. “You guys can talk. “

    We pulled out the computer and read about the quality of life for a three-legged animal. We watched YouTube videos of three-legged cats.

    In preparation for amputation, Jody and I gave Silver pain and nerve medicine as well as antibiotics every 8 hours.

    When Monday came, Jody and I discussed how we needed to leave work and meet at home for Silver’s noon medicine. Antonio offered to get out of school. That was a possibility. We live next door to Richfield Middle School.

    Silver our 3-legged cat
    Silver our 3-legged cat

    Looking ahead to Silver’s recovery after amputation, we talked about complications. Medicine might be needed on a regular basis and I was scheduled to be out of town.

    “I can do it,” Antonio said.

    “Are you sure?” I asked. “One person has to keep Silver’s mouth open and the other has to squirt the syringe or put the pill in his mouth.”

    “I can do whatever it takes,” he said with certainty.

    And, you know what, I believe him.

     

     

     

     

     

  • Cat on a Walk

    Cat on a Walk

    Silver, getting suited up for his walk.
    Silver

    Antonio stood at the door, a clipboard in his hand. “Would you like to buy a wreath from Boy Scouts?”

    The man holding the door abruptly stepped outside and side-stepped around Antonio.

    “Ssssh. Quiet. Stay still.” He crouched into a linebacker pose.

    I watched from where I stood a few feet away.

    The man was advancing slowly forward. He looked as if he was going to make a move.

    I glanced to the side of his house. Suddenly, I understood. “That’s our cat,” I said.

    “Really?” His body taut, still ready to pounce. He clearly didn’t believe me.

    “Yes. He’s on a walk with us.”

    “Really?” He wasn’t yet ready to give up snaring the cat.

    “Yes. We live a few blocks over.”

    Resigned, he stood up straight. “Someone said they were missing a cat that looks just like that.”

    Rosie, Silver, and Oreo
    Rosie, Silver, and Oreo in Donaldson Park

    “No, that’s our cat,” I repeated.

    Antonio came down the steps and turned to walk towards the next house. “Here, Silver. Here, boy.”

    I caught up to him.

    “Did you see that?” Antonio whispered. “He was going to take our cat.”

    “Yeah, I did.” I looked at Silver a few respectful paces away. I studied him. “He looks homeless,” I said. “He doesn’t have a collar.”

    Jody, Antonio, Crystel, and I are responsible cat owners. We take our cats in for their checkups. They have all their shots. They are also outdoor cats. We put collars on them when they were kittens. That didn’t go so well.

    Oreo waiting for us.
    Oreo waiting for us.

    For the past six months Silver and/or Oreo have gone on walks with us. I first noticed it on a May morning when I was walking the dogs. Silver followed us up Morgan Avenue, down 73rd, all around Donaldson Park and back down 73rd and then Morgan Avenue to our home.

    What to do? I gave him a treat just like I gave the dogs.

    One of Antonio and Crystel’s chores this summer was to walk the dogs each day. More often than not, Silver and Oreo – his sister, accompanied them.

    Sometimes, cars will stop and ask us if that’s our cat(s) following us. “Yes, we’re on a walk,” we’ll reply.

    Adults with children will stop to pet the cats and/or dogs.

    But, until now, we weren’t worried about the cats appearing to be homeless.

    Orea and Buddy in-between walks
    Oreo and Buddy in-between walks

    Antonio and I continued knocking on doors. The further we went from our street the more Silver meowed. I understood. We were going further and further from his territory. His territory was east of Morgan not west where we were.This was confirmed when a woman said, “I haven’t seen that cat around here before.”

    “No, that’s our cat. He’s on a walk with us,” I replied.

    “That explains it,” she said.

    I can’t say that we sold more wreaths by having Silver with us.

    The next day all three outdoor cats had collars on whether they wanted them or not.

    They’re our cats. They have a home.

     

     

  • Juan Jose and a Guatemalan Revolution

    Juan Jose and a Guatemalan Revolution

    FullSizeRender (5)In Guatemala today, there is an uprising.

    “We don’t have medicine in the hospitals. The children don’t have books in their schools. And throughout society there aren’t any jobs and the president hasn’t done anything to help. They’ve just stolen from the people,” said Maria Elena Aquino Gomez, 38, as she sold flags in the plaza. “Guatemala is alive. We’re not dead. And we’ll continue fighting for our liberty.”

    The parents of many of the organizers warned them not to get involved. “They grew up in the ’80s in Guatemala, when going out to protest meant death,” said Gabriel Wer, a 33-year-old organizer.

    They hoped a few people would show up. Thirty thousand came.

    I watch safely from afar, read bits and pieces, and know enough to know that I don’t understand.

    Juan Jose had a history before he met Jody and me.

    Antonio (9), Rosa, and his sister, Ani.
    Antonio (9), Rosa, and his sister, Ani.

    His grandfather died in 1982 during the civil war and his grandmother was left to raise seven children on her own. She couldn’t provide for all, so when his mother was five years old, she was given to an aunt. The aunt treated his mother very badly so she ran back to her mother’s house. The economic situation hadn’t changed, so his mother had to get a job cleaning houses in Rabinal at age 9.

    Antonio was 9 when he met his mother, Rosa, for the first time.

    “Did you name Antonio,” was one of my first questions. I so much wanted to show her that we honored her by keeping his name.

    “No. The adoption people named him Antonio. I wanted to name him Juan Jose. Juan to honor my father and Jose to honor my grandfather.”

    Ever since then when Antonio and I meet someone whose name is Juan or Juan Jose we look at each other knowingly.

    During our first meeting with Rosa, Jody and I asked her if we could help her with monthly groceries. She said, “No. I don’t want Antonio to think I sold him.”

     

    Antonio (11) and Rosa
    Antonio (11) and Rosa

    It was then that I knew the strength and heart of Guatemalans.

    Rosa is indigenous and belongs to the Mayan Achi ethnia. She is from Aldea Concul, approximately 10 miles southwest from Rabinal on the Sierra de Chuacus, 5,500 feet above sea level.

    Today, she lives in the poorest section of Guatemala City. Taxis won’t drive there. Still, she didn’t want to receive help. More than anything, she wanted Juan Jose’s forgiveness for letting him go.

    The Guatemalan uprising resulted in Pérez Molina no longer being President of Guatemala. Perez Molina was a former general who led the most feared branch of a military that routinely massacred citizens during nearly four decades of Civil War. About 200,000 civilians died, one of them being Juan Jose’s grandfather.

    I can picture Juan Jose a.k.a. Antonio running the mountain trails in Guatemala. He has the heart of Rosa.

    We will be visiting Rosa next year. She’ll be able to see for herself the man Juan Jose is becoming.