Lulu died. She had lived in our barn, coming and going as she pleased, but mostly coming, for the better part of 18 years. A brilliantly colored calico cat, there was nothing she liked more than a delivery of bales of fresh hay to explore. She was tough, never a surviving mouse even in the midst of all that grain. Never even a dog willing to risk entering what was clearly her territory, except once, and then the dog almost lost an eye.
Lulu was a cat that did not leave the last of her nine lives without making sure she was in charge, no matter how inconvenient it was to us.
We pushed the tivo TV button in the final innings of an important Giants game. “Let”s go feed the horses and then come back and see the rest of the game,” said Kit. We found Lulu near death next to her barn. Then an emergency call to our vet, putting Lulu in a cat box, and a sad trip down to the clinic to make sure that she went to her reward without suffering.
Not being able to resist, with the caged cat at my side I switched on the car radio and learned that it was 3 to 3 in the last of the ninth. While waiting at the animal hospital clinic for the vet to show up I called Kit to let her know that Lulu was still breathing. She said to stay with Lulu but don”t listen to the game, that we would watch the rest when I returned.
I mumbled, uh huh, not having the nerve to tell her what I already knew, that the Giants had won.
Thanks to the ministrations of our sympathetic vet, Lulu spent her last moments peacefully. I returned home grateful that she did not collapse somewhere out in the tall grass where a wild animal might have caused her end to be not so peaceful. When I went up to the barn to feed the horses the next morning, I missed Lulu”s demanding meow saying, “Were the hell were you? How about opening a can of that gourmet cat food!”
Returning to the house, my thoughts wandered beyond the specific soul of Lulu. I asked myself, “Why in the blazes, anyway, to we share our lives with all these animals ? horses, dog, goats, and cats. Our vet once introduced us as a couple who live on a hill covered with animals.
That is true ? but why?
My reflections on the life of Lulu push me toward an answer.
They teach us humility.
As Lulu approached the end of her days, she neither complained nor exhibited frightened or regretful emotions. As we humans contemplate the same situation, we slip into a mood of egotistical panic. How can the world possibly get along without us? Where do we go from here?
Lulu knew that the world would certainly get along without her. Concerning where she would go now, she could have cared less. She would worry about that when she got there, just as she did not worry about that mouse until it showed up.
They are our companions. Our children have grown up and flown the nest. We no longer have the immediacy of the pleasure of their company, nor the distress of their problems.
Now, often in the middle of a quiet day the feel of the warm coat of our black Lab dog sitting next to us on the couch, or watching in amazement the wild and playful wrestling of our kittens, brings the comfort of an harmonious group. Here we are, all together … all having a good time.
They are useful. The goats have been the world”s most efficient and least costly method of keeping down the weeds that present a fire hazard.
Lulu kept the barn free of mice.
Flash, the gentle dog who loves every living thing serves as our protector, even when we need no protection. His loud barking may be an uninvited late night wake up call, yet his devotion to thwarting perceived threats is touching.
-They provide adventure. In days gone by, before the horses and I needed to slow down, we rode along wonderful trails, relaxing and dreaming at a slow walk or feeling the rush of air at a fast gallop. The horses provided memories that I will never forget.
Azul, the wonder horse, is gone now, yet there is hardly a day goes by that I do not remember how he enriched my life and the lives of people with disabilities that he carefully, I would even say lovingly, carry on his back.
Finally, they give us the golden opportunity to share. Life has been good to us. The animals give us the chance to enjoy what we have by sharing what we have. Without that, the chances are that as time goes by we would look more and more inward and get less and less satisfaction from daily activity. The animals keep us on the go. There is always something to do. We are never certain what is coming next.
Lulu took us away from the Giants game, but she gave us much more than she ever took. We would not have it any other way!
Stephen Sloane is a Lake County resident, a retired Naval Officer and a Professor at Saint Mary”s College of California. He is a graduate of the U.S. Naval Academy and has earned a Ph.D at the University of California, Berkeley. Reach him at cowboy91671@gmail.com.
