I find myself sitting here reflecting on my life as I live what will be the last years of my life. I have considered all the things that have brought me the most happiness. The fact is that there has been a plethora of experiences; I grew up in an Irish Catholic family with a mother and father and five siblings. I am part of the Baby Boomer generation.

My generation had a great deal of freedom as children. My parent’s only directive when I left my house was to be home in time for dinner. They never asked where I was going or what I would be doing. I kid you not. No questions were asked as long as I was home in time for dinner. After dinner was over and the kitchen cleaned up, it would be time to do my homework. My mother would go over and over my spelling words with me. My father would help me with my math homework. He was not as patient with me as my mother was. But he did his best. I have to admit I didn’t invest much of my energy into my school work. I was more interested in playing with my friends and visiting all my animal friends in the neighborhood.

The neighbor, who lived two houses away from my house, had a collection of cats. They were allowed to go in and out of the house at will since a cellar window was kept open at all times. They stayed in the fenced-in area that ran the length of the property.

My furry best friend was a stray orange cat named Strottles. He had been originally owned by our next-door neighbors, a family whose last name was Lombardi. They were of Italian descent. My family was of Irish descent. My father did not care for Italian families simply because they were Italian and not Irish. In fact, most families in Maple Shade, where I grew up, were either of Irish or Italian descent. And they were Catholic. Maple Shade also had a public school system; we called them “The Publics.” As if they were some mutants or something. Anyone who misbehaved in Catholic School would be warned to behave, or they would be sent to “The Public School.” The nuns always made it sound like it was a fate worse than death. I kid you not. 

Getting back to my original point, I just fell in love with Strottles; I used to feed him on the sly since his original owners, the Lomardi’s, threw him out of their house as if he was some killer or something. All was well until one unfortunate day when my mother took the garbage outside to put it in the garbage can and left our kitchen door open. My mother had a pet parakeet, whose name was Pretty Bird, in a cage on the kitchen wall. About an hour before dinner time, my mother would let open the door on Pretty Boy’s cage after the table was set. And the Pretty Boy would fly out of the cage and onto the table. And then, he would push all of the silverware onto the floor. My mother thought that this was hilarious. And so every night out would come my mother’s bird and knock off the silverware. Unfortunately, Strottles saw that the side kitchen door was open and ran into the house, jumped up on the table, and killed my mother’s beloved parakeet.

I wasn’t even in the kitchen at that time, but my mother was so heartbroken by the death of her dear parakeet. My father decided that this whole experience was my fault because I befriended Strottles. And so, after yelling at me for a good. For a long while, my father told me to go down to the cellar. And stayed there until I was told I could come out. I stood alone in the cellar crying, my heart broken as well because I loved both my mother’s bird and Strottles, and I loved my mother with all my heart. It took me a long, long time to get over this event. Well, actually, I never really got over this experience. I still feel bad about some sixty years later. In addition, my father made one of my older sisters take Strottles down the street to the railroad tracks. And I never saw Strotles again. I cried and cried until my father told me to shut up about the damm cat.

After that experience, I continued to befriend all the animals in my neighborhood. I did not share this information with either my mother or father and certainly not my siblings. Truthfully, my love and attachment to animals of all kinds just grew over time. I used to feed the squirrels and the wild birds. And the ducks and the swans at Strawbridge Lake. Which was a favorite haunt of mine. I would ride my bike there, take a lunch bag with me, and throw the leftovers to the local wildlife. It was a good three-mile bike ride from my house. But that didn’t bother me in the least. Sometimes, my best friend would go with me, and sometimes, I would go alone. As usual, my parents wouldn’t ask where I had been as long as I was home on time for lunch or dinner. I kept begging my parents for a pet, and they wouldn’t get one for a long time. My father was given a female dog named Nomie. My father became attached to her. My father felt dogs should be able to come and go as they pleased. He didn’t believe in spaying dogs, so as a result, Nomie got pregnant. My father gave away all the puppies when they were born after they stopped nursing. Nomie became ill, and the vet said, “She has milk fever.” The vet put Nomie down. I was heartbroken. I missed her so much. And then my father gave away all the puppies.

After that, we didn’t have any pets for a long, long time. Even though I had haunted my mother night and day about wanting a pet, finally, my father gave in and bought me a hamster. I fell in love with that little guy. Unfortunately, hamsters do not have a long life span. But I didn’t know that. And that was the last pet we had for a long time. Until one of my older siblings gave my father a dog. My father named him Andy, and my father loved that dog. It was the first time I saw my father get attached to an animal. Andy would sit next to my father no matter where he was located, especially when my father was watching the news. My father would sit in “his chair” while he watched TV at night. And Andy would sit on the floor next to the chair. My father would pet his all the way up until the ll” o’clock news when my father went to bed.

I would let Andy out during the day to roam all around town. My father didn’t believe animals should be spayed, he felt it was there only pleasure in life, besides eating. All our neighbors complained because Andy would” Do His Business” in everyone’s front yard. In addition, everyone in town suggested that Andy was fathering a hoard of Andy lookalikes all over Maple Shade. Andy lived a long life, unfortunately my father suffered a stroke and wasn’t able to speak clearly after that.

After that, my father started coughing all the time, and one day, when I came over to visit my parents, my father indicated that he wanted me to look in the toilet. I went in there, and the toilet was filled with bloody water. I arranged for my father to see a doctor ASAP. And it turned out my father had developed Lung Cancer, and the disease was too far along to treat. My father was quite ill for the entire time, survived, and eventually passed away. During the time my father was in the hospital, Andy had gotten ill, and he had to be put down. It was a heartbreaking experience for us all.

My mother was not in the best shape after my father’s passing. I had to arrange for a caretaker to come and stay at my parent’s house during the week. Since all of my siblings were working then, we would take turns having my mother stay at our house on the weekends. My mother had developed dementia by then and could not be on her own. It was the saddest time in my life. My own children, who were six and three, don’t really have any memories of my dear mother. This is so unfortunate since my mother was the kindest and most caring person I have ever known.

It is incredible how quickly passes by. Here I am now, retired and living in North Carolina. I volunteer at an animal sanctuary three mornings a week, caring for a building full of parrots and two pheasants. Not only that, I adopted two dogs and four parrots,  six finches, and a cat who belongs to my youngest daughter, who moved with us to North Carolina. My oldest daughter is married and has three cats. So, loving animals with a run in our blood. I can’t imagine not having animals in my life at any time. They have always filled that empty spot I have in my heart. And I’m sure as long as I am able to, I will have dogs, cats, and birds as part of my family.

Mom, sitting at the kitchen table,

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