Today would be my uncle's 72 birthday. He was very sad and ill when he died almost three years ago. But that's not how I want to remember him.
I want to remember him happy, and his pets made him happy. So here's a "10 on Tuesday" I wrote shortly after he died.
Happy Birthday, Uncle Ted. I think of you every day.
My uncle loved pets. So today I'm remembering him by looking back on 10 that held his heart for a time.
1) Horseface. In
Chicagoland in the late 1940s, cats were allowed to wander at night.
They also weren't "fixed." These two unwise practices led to my uncle's
first cat being called Horseface. Quite the Lothario, he cut a wide
swath through the neighborhood and got into many fights over his many
girl friends. Because he came home every morning with his face looking
the worse for wear, my very young uncle christened him "Horseface," and
it stuck. Today no one could remember this much-loved old fellow's
original first name. He was "Horseface."
2) Dumbo.
The unfortunate offspring of Horseface and Snoozer (my mother's
calico). Because Horseface was such a randy dude, Snoozer was forever
pregnant. My grandmother was a single working mother in the 1940s and
trips to the vet were simply not in her budget. So, whenever Snoozer
delivered a litter, she put the wee ones in a cigar box, drowned them in
the laundry tub, and disposed of the unopened box in the alley. One
kitten did not die and made his way out of the cigar box and back into
the yard. Snoozer reclaimed her baby and protected him fiercely. The
thing of it is, the time under water and in the cigar box did quite a
bit of damage to unfortunate Dumbo. He looked odd -- with incredibly
over-sized ears -- and he swayed when he walked. These special traits
made both Snoozer and my young uncle treasure Dumbo all the more, and he
survived to live a happy life.
3) Rover.
A huge St. Bernard with a heart to match. Unfortunately, he also had
jaws to match. He was very protective of my uncle and this got them both
in trouble. While rough-housing, my uncle found himself at the bottom
of a pile of kids. He called Rover to help. Rover did, lifting one of
the children up with his teeth and removing him from the pile. The big
dog didn't
mean
to hurt the kid, but then, didn't much care if that was the outcome,
either. The boy's back looked as though he'd suffered a shark attack and
his angry mother went to the police station and demanded Rover be put
to sleep. It took all my grandmother's powers of persuasion to bring
Rover home, alive and well, but never to be let off his leash.
4) Mr. McDuff.
My uncle was very fond of this German Shepard, and was sad that the dog
didn't return the affection. It had something to do with my teen-aged
uncle first accidentally setting McDuff's tail on fire, then
accidentally squishing the poor dog's tail under a rocking chair. McDuff
learned to avoid him -- which, while sad, was probably wise.
5) Countless fish. Until
recently, he always kept tropical fish and loved watching their lives
unfold in a big aquarium. He gave both my kid sister and me guppies
which we kept for a long time. And not that long ago he set my young
nephew up with a fish tank. My nephew became terribly attached to one of
his fish (christened "Hungry") and was inconsolable when he died.
Hungry was not flushed but was buried in the back yard. This is the
cornerstone of my nephew's relationship with his great-uncle.
6) Dog.
A ginormous turtle who required more care than my uncle could give him.
It was with a heavy heart that my uncle donated old Dog to the
Morton Arboretum. That was about 30 years ago. It occurs to me today that Dog may still be happily paddling around out there. I hope so.
7) Corky.
This little old terrier already belonged to my uncle's second wife when
they married. His wife kept Corky relegated to the "mud room," not
understanding that pets are members of the family. Since my uncle
encouraged Corky to enjoy full use of the entire house, they became fast
friends. My uncle had many photos of Corky sitting proudly beside the
recliner in the livingroom, wearing a variety of neckties. I don't know
how this practice began, but it cracked my uncle up that Corky would sit
still so patiently, submitting to having a perfect windsor tied around
his neck.
8) Brandy. Corky's
successor. A huge, big-hearted girl -- part golden retriever, part
yellow lab. She died unexpectedly of an undiagnosed heart ailment. By
this time, my uncle was already suffering from Parkinson's but he
valiantly gave Brandy a proper burial beside the garage, the area she
most loved to patrol.
9) Miss Kitty.
A tortoiseshell cat my mother found while on vacation in Wisconsin.
Since the stray looked so much like her cat, Snoozer, the one she had as
a little girl, she really wanted my uncle to have her, and, since he
had a great deal of fenced-in land, he was happy to take her. The thing
of it is, unfortunately, Miss Kitty turned out to be pregnant. My uncle
and his wife found good homes for most of Miss Kitty's offspring, except
one ...
10) Bennie. So
named because she's striped like a Bengal tiger. She was my uncle's most
pampered companion at the end of his life. Now partly blind and a
little frail (she had many surgeries related to her thyroid a few years
ago and she remains tender at the incision sites), but with a very loud
purr, she now lives with my mother. I wonder if, now that my uncle no
longer needs her, she will decide to join him in Heaven.
But the one that really gets to me is Riley, Ben's dog. They were so close that Riley is mentioned in the obit. As hard as this is for Katie, at least she understands what's going on. This must be so awful for Riley. His person was gone for months, came home for a while but behaved very differently, and then disappeared.
