Tag Archives: birds

It All Began With My Neighbors Cats

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Strottles on a bad day

I grew up in the small town of Maple Shade, New Jersey, in the 1950s and lived there until I was twenty. There were a great many children my age living in Maple Shade, so there were always friends to play with me. But, occasionally, I would find myself alone and go over to my neighbor’s house and visit her cats. Her cats lived in her house, but they had access to a cellar window where they could go outside in a large fenced area in her backyard to spend the day outside for as long as they wished. I loved to go over and talk to the cats and often spent most of the day there. Mrs. Collins lived two houses down from my house. So, my mother never had to go far to find me. Suppose it was time for lunch or dinner. She just called out,” Time for lunch, Susan.”

I also befriended all my neighbor’s dogs. I constantly begged my parents to get a dog. My neighbor, the Lombardi’s, had a cat they fed but were not allowed to live in their house. His name was Strottles, And I made it my business to spend a good part of my day talking to him and feeding him snacks that I would get out of our refrigerator. I was careful not to take any of my father’s favorite foods, or he would have “a bird,” as my mother used to say.

Strottles spent much time coming to our kitchen door and meowing when hungry. One day, my mother was taking the trash out to the garbage can, inadvertently leaving the side kitchen door open. And Strottles came into the kitchen. I suppose he was looking for something to eat. Unfortunately, my mother had left her pet parakeet out of the cage, and he was walking across the kitchen table, knocking the knives and forks off the table, Which was his daily habit. And Strottles managed to jump on the table, and he killed my mother’s pet, whom she loved dearly. This broke my mother’s heart. And my father blamed me because I had befriended the cat that killed my mother’s birdy. I ended up getting a spanking, and my father made me go down into the cellar until he told me I could come up to the kitchen again. I was broken-hearted. I love my mother’s little bird, too, and I never wanted it to be harmed in any way. I felt bad about my mom’s bird being killed. The guilt was overwhelming at times. And although it has been over sixty years, I never forgot it.

Somehow, this event did not deter my love of animals, but I did become aware of keeping all my feathered and furry friends safe from harm. And that remains true to this day. And here I am in the last years of my life, and over the years, I have owned and loved many cats and birds, mostly cocktails, and several dogs.

Presently, I have two dogs and ten birds. And one cat. For the last nine years since I retired, I have been volunteering at an animal sanctuary. And I have been taking care of parrots, doves, and occasionally pheasants. Over two hundred animals live at the sanctuary, and it feels like my childhood dream has come true. At one point in my life, I considered attending school to become a veterinarian. But realized it would take many years since I was thirty-six. Instead, I applied to Tyler School of Art at Temple University in Philadelphia, PA. I was the only adult student in the Freshman Class. But, honestly, that never bothered me. I befriended all the students who attended Tyler with me. And some of the teachers who were my age. It wasn’t easy because I had two young children at the time, a house, and a husband to care for. But, somehow, I got through those four years. And graduated at the top of my class Magnum Cum Laude. I taught Art to children and adults for many years in a school I opened up in our new Pitman, New Jersey home.

But I had a house with eight cats and a couple of birds, not to mention all the wild birds I fed and the neighbor’s cats. Who somehow found out about me and came crying at my back door. I realized over time that these outside cats were propagating like crazy, so I bought a couple of large traps, captured them, and took them to the vet’s to have them altered so they wouldn’t have any further kittens. I found homes for the kittens that had already been born, and I kept several of them myself.

Life offers us many opportunities to do good in the world and make the most of our time here.

After I graduated from college at the top of my class with two degrees and teaching credentials. I worked in Social Service positions in Camden, NJ. I worked at the Center for Family Service with Wilson Goode. We matched at-risk kids in Camden with mentors from the five churches with mentors from churches. In this capacity, I had to visit the parents of some of these children who were incarcerated in prison for reasons I didn’t always know. I had to explain to the parents that I needed their permission to match their child or children with mentors from the churches in the hope of preventing their children from repeating their parent’s mistakes and ending up in prison. Most parents were more than willing to help their children in any way they could. The Center for Family Services, which employed me, would match these children with church members. It was not an easy job, but it is one that I feel provided a better life for the children who lived in Camden, NJ. After that, I worked at Ranch Hope in Alloway, NJ, as a counselor with at-risk adolescent boys adjudicated by the court for various infractions with the police. These boys had grown up under difficult circumstances and didn’t always have good role models; most lived in poverty. I worked at Ranch Hope for five years, a complex and challenging position. I do feel that I succeeded with these boys to some degree and that some did manage to change their behavior so that when they were released from their time at Ranch Hope, there was a strong possibility that they could go out in the world and keep out of trouble and hopefully make some positive contributions.

I look back at that time and wonder how I had gotten through those years. They were not easy ones. But I do feel that I did give those boys an opportunity to create a better life for themselves. I knew that there were some adults in their lives who wanted them to move forward, succeed in life, and hopefully do better than their parents had done.

I’ve had many jobs over my long life, and I believe I have learned as much from the children I’ve taught as they have learned from me. I have no regrets about my life at all. I have lived all over the country in New Jersey, Florida, and California and now retired in North Carolina. I no longer work with at-risk kids. I work with animals, who have also been one of the great loves of my life. I don’t know my future since I am now seventy-three years old. But I know that as long as I have breath in my body, I will continue to do good for as long as possible.

A LIFE WITHOUT PETS WOULD BE AN EMPTY ONE

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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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THE BIRDS IN MY LIFE, A BIRD”S EYE VIEW

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As long as I can remember, I have held a fascination and deep love for birds. I can remember sitting in my backyard in Maple Shade, New Jersey, under our Weeping Willow tree and quietly observing all the birds flying overhead. There were several birds nest in the Willow Tree. And I loved nothing more than to sit there for long stretches of time and listen to the baby birds squeaking for their mothers to feed them. Their hunger was all-encompassing. And it seemed that they didn’t care for anything except for being fed and having their mother sitting on their nest and keeping them warm. 

As the Spring transitioned into Summer, I continued to observe them quietly while I sat under our beautiful Willow Tree and by the time Summer came to an end, the baby birds had grown up, and before long, they flew away from their nest and headed south for the winter. I would miss their presence over the long, late Fall and cold winter days. But, I knew that come next Spring new birds would arrive and build their nests and create their own new baby birds. This experience would come and go, and over the years, I grew up as well. One of the last Springs that I remember watching for the arrival of the Spring Birds, our Willow Tree, and all the other Willow Trees on Fellowship Road, where I grew up, became infected by some disease that was called Willow Blight. It was a type of fungus that killed off all the Willow Trees where I lived and across the state of New Jersey. And eventually, my father had to cut down the now blighted tree.

After the tree was cut down and the trunk removed, I experienced a period of loss. Not only did I miss my beautiful Willow, but I missed the birds and the baby bird and the hatchlings that used to occupy the Willow in the Spring and early Summer. I missed sitting on the bench that my father had built where I used to sit and listen to the birds. And I often read one of my many library books during my Summer vacation,

As I grew older, I found other things to do during the Summer, like swimming in the community pool and digging in the clay pits, roller skating, riding my bike all over the place and playing with all my neighborhood friends, going swimming in my friend’s swimming pool next door and catching and releasing fireflies at night.

Strawbridge Lake, Moorestown.J

Sometimes, I and one of my friends would ride our bikes all the way to Moorestown and go to Strawbridge Lake. People used to go fishing here. My friends and I used to walk around in the shallow part of the lake and cross the dam where the waterfall was located to the other side and back. There were all kinds of trees and shrubs located at Strawbridge Lake. We often brought our lunches with us and sat on the edge of the lake and ate our bologna or peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

I used to save some of the scraps and give them to the ducks that swam on the lake. Birds would come from near and far to visit the lake and rest in the trees that shaded the park and the pond. Strawbridge Lake was an oasis for both children and adults and the many birds, squirrels, fish, and reptiles that lived in the area. I have so many beautiful memories of my experiences there as a child. So much so that when I grew up, married, and moved back to New Jersey, I brought my own children and some of my nieces and nephews to Strawbridge Lake to enjoy the lake, the sun, and the beautiful birds that lived there during the warmer months. In the winter, Strawbridge Lake would freeze over, and we would go ice skating there.

As time passed by, I left my childhood behind. But I never let my love of birds and animals slip away. My mother had a pet parakeet in a cage in our kitchen, and that little bird re-ignited my love of birds. And as a result I haunted my mother and father for years to have a pet. As a result, over the years, my family adopted and loved several dogs and all the neighborhood cats I befriended.

One cat in particular, whose name was Strottles, was a large orange cat that our next-door neighbor had owned. Who grew tired of him and put him out. I used to feed him on the sly because my father was not fond of cats. And then, one unfortunate day, my mother was taking the trash outside to put in the garbage, and she had inadvertently left the side door open. Strottles went into the kitchen, and he killed my mother’s beloved bird. And my mother was devastated by the loss, my father blamed me because I was friends with the cat. And he made me go down the cellar for several hours.  Strottles

My mother never wanted another bird after that. She was brokenhearted. So, once again, I was left to love the wild birds that populated our neighborhood and the wild geese and ducks at Strawbridge Lake. It wasn’t until I was a teenager that my father bought me several finches and a cage for them because I kept begging my parents to let me have a pet. He also let me have a hamster who turned out to be an escape artist—the last time he escaped into the heating ducts, my father had to cut a hole in one of the heating ducts in the cellar to get him out. This did not make my father a happy camper by any means. The finches were the last birds that I had while I was living at home with my parents. 

And it wasn’t until I married my now husband and moved to Florida and then California that we bought our first cockatiel. We named him Pepey. We had him for quite a long time. And over the many years, we had several more.

Jalepeno

Jalepeno

And here I am, ten years into my retirement. And we are living in North Carolina. As soon as we settled into our new home, which is in a small development, I decided that I wanted to volunteer to work with animals. And in fact, that is precisely what I did. I searched the internet, and voila’ I found a place called Animal Edventure located in Coats, NC.

I contacted them, and I told them I was looking for a part-time volunteer position taking care of animals of some kind. They made an appointment to come in and talk to them about a volunteer position. And that is just what I did. The first thing they told me was they needed a Bird Person to take care of their many birds. And I said, sure, I would love that. That was almost nine years ago, and I have been taking care of parrots, Macaws, and pheasants of every size and description.

In addition, I have adopted four parrots, six finches, and two dogs. I go to Animal Edventure on Sunday, Wednesday, and Friday morning and take care of these beautiful and, yes, loud birds. So, what can I say, “Some things are just meant to be.” Me and Birds, it’s a thing.

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THE EARLY BIRDS GETS THE WORM

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As far back as I can remember my family has been telling me that I let my imagination run away with me. One family member actually had the audacity to tell me I was full of malarkey.

As a child, I would come home after playing outside with my friends and as soon as everyone was seated at the dinner table I would regale them with the adventures I experienced that day.

I always begin by saying, “wow you won’t believe what happened to me today.”

And then one night at the dinner table my oldest siblings said, “oh no, here she goes again with one of her wild stories. Mom, can’t you tell her to shut up? We can never eat in peace. You know she is full of bologna. There is no way that one person could have some crazy thing happen to them every single day of their life.

The weirdest thing that happened to me today is that my boss at Acme didn’t fire me. After I forgot to bring in the dairy delivery immediately after it arrived. He’s fires people for smaller mistakes. I consider it almost a miracle that I still have a job. But you don’t hear me telling you every night what awesome or strange thing happened to me every day do you?”

“Larry does not use that kind of language at the dinner table. And leave Sandy alone. She’s not doing any harm. She just has an active imagination. That’s all. She’s a very creative kid with a big imagination. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Yeah, imagination, sure. If anyone of the rest of us told so many lies, we would never hear the end of it.”

“He’s right Mom. You do favor her. She gets away with murder.”

“That’s enough Libby. How about we all just eat out dinner quietly.’

As a result, I never did get to tell them what happened to me. Every time I tried to bring it up. Someone would tell me to shut up, And my mother would say, “you are not allowed to say shut up in this house.

“Maybe I should start at the beginning. After I got out of school that day, I ran home. So that I could change out of my school uniform and into my play clothes. And then I ran over to my best friend’s house down the street. I banged on her front door. No one answered.

I banged and banged at the door for at least twenty minutes. I was about to give up and then I saw someone at the front window. She looked like a witch. Her hair was standing up in every direction. Her face had something sticky smeared across it. All the way up to her hairline. At first, I thought it was blood. The longer I looked I realized it was some kind of food on her face, maybe jelly. The window was half-opened she screamed out the opening, “help, help me they are keeping me, prisoner, here. Help, help, help.”

At first, I thought I better run away. She‘s some kind of witch, She‘s going to eat me. But then I saw tears slowly running down her face from her red, bloodshot eyes and down her wrinkled cheeks. And she kept wiping them away with the back of her hand. This further spread the jelly or whatever it was across her face. There seemed no end to her tears. I ran up to the front garden under the window and yelled up at her, “are you alright? Are you hurt? Do you want me to call the police?” She continued to moan and cry, “help me, help me.”

I decided to try getting into the house through the screen porch at the back of the house. My friend, Jilly lived there. But it didn’t seem like anyone else was home but this old lady. Jilly had told me that they never locked the back porch in case one of them got locked out of the house by mistake.

So I pushed it open and ran over to the kitchen door. I turned the knob and I was in. I stepped into the kitchen it smelled like pizza like it always does. My best friend‘s family is Italian and they eat spaghetti or lasagna or pizza almost every night. It always smells delicious in their kitchen. I called out, “Hello, hello where are you?” I could hear her crying from the living room. I yelled out, “hello it’s me, Sandy.”

Nobody answered me. So, I just walked quietly into the living room. I didn’t want to scare her. “Hi, it’s me, Sandy.” I saw her still looking out the living room window. I tiptoed up to her and said, “hi, I’m here. She screamed at the top of her lungs. I let out a scream myself. ” Good grief, you scared me half to death. Where is everyone? Why are you all alone? Where’s Jilly?”

She said, ” they left me all alone. They are keeping me a prisoner. They won’t let me out.”

I said, “let’s sit down in the kitchen. I know let’s eat a cookie. I saw some on the counter when I walked through there. Do you want a cookie?” She smiled for the first time.

“Yes, cookie, I want a cookie.”

I helped her sit down and pushed her chair in. We both sat quietly and ate the chocolate chip cookies. And then I said, “are you Jilly’s grandmother?”

“Yes. I’m a grandmother.”

“Are you living here now?”
“Yes, I’m living here. They left me all alone. I was taking a nap and when I woke up, they were gone. I was scared and lonely and all by myself.”

“Well, I‘ll stay here until they come home. Would you like that?”

“Yes, stay. I’m scared.”

We sat and ate our cookies for a while and I ask her what’s your name? She said, “my name is Alma. I came here a long time ago. I’m from Italy. We landed in New York City at the Statue of Liberty in 1905. We lived in Camden, New Jersey for many years. My husband was a tailor and he made suits for men. I had twelve children. They are all grown up and have children of their own. And some of their children have children. My husband died and now I’m all alone.”

“You’re not alone Alma. You live with your son, daughter-in-law, and two grandchildren. And now you have me, I’ll be your friend and I’ll come to visit you anytime you want me to. Maybe we could take a walk around the garden in the backyard. And there’s a big swing hanging from the Willow Tree that we could take a ride on. What do you say?”

“Yes, I say let’s take some cookies outside too. I love cookies.”

“Really I love cookies and candy. Next time I come over I’ll bring some cookies that my mom made. They’re oatmeal raisin. They are so yummy.”

Alma had a big smile across her face. And that’s when I saw Alma didn’t have any teeth. And I wondered how she could chew the cookies. I handed her two of the cookies and we sat down on the couch that was on the back porch. She finished her cookies before I did.

“Good, they’re good cookies. Give me more.”

“Maybe next time, I don’t want you to get sick.”

She smiled at me. And that’s when I heard my friend Jilly’s car drive up. It was an old car and it made a lot of noise. I said, “Alma your family is home. Do you want to go back into the house?”

She said, ‘no, I like it out here. It’s nice and there are a lot of birds and flowers. I used to have a garden when I lived in Camden in the front yard. I had all different kinds of roses. And we had a grapevine and my husband used to make his own wine. I miss that.”

“Maybe your son would let you have a garden here. And then you could go outside in the fresh air and not be stuck in the house all the time.”

“Yes, I would love to have a garden again. Let’s do that.”

And then I thought, oh no, I shouldn’t have told her that. Maybe they’ll say no. And then she’ll be sad again. “Alma, stay here. I’m going to run around front and tell them we are out on the porch. So, they won’t worry. I’ll be right back. Stay here.”

I ran out front and Jilly’s father said, “what are you doing here? Why are you here all the time?”

My friend Jilly’s father was a grouch, just like my father. I ignored what he said. And I said, “I was visiting Alma I heard her crying when I was knocking at the front door. And we were sitting on the back porch eating cookies. I told her I would bring her some of my mother’s cookies the next time I come over.”
“How did you get in the house Sandy?”

“I came in the back porch. Jilly told me it is always unlocked. And your mother and I were visiting on the porch and eating cookies. She said she wants to have a garden in the backyard. She loves flowers and grapes.”

“She did, she’s done nothing but cry since she got here. OK, let’s go see her on the back porch. We all marched around the yard to the backyard. Alma was sitting there quietly looking at the backyard. “Hello, Sandy said I could have a garden and work in the backyard.”

“She did Mom. That sounds like a great idea.”

And Sandy said, “she will come over and help me.”

“Well Mom, that sounds like a fine idea. And maybe Jilly can help you as well.”

And that is when I saw the most beautiful toothless smile appear on Grandmother’s face. That’s what she told me to call her, Grandmother. I never had a grandmother before. So, at least once a week I go over and help grandmother in the garden. And she tells me all kinds of stories about the olden days when she was growing up in Italy.

And that is how I made my second best, Alma. At least once or twice a week I go over to Jilly’s house and sit on the back porch and eat oatmeal raisin cookies with cold milk. And sometimes we go in the yard and work in the garden. I’m in charge of any worms we find. Because Alma is afraid of snakes. I keep telling her that these are just little worms but she doesn’t believe me.

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THE OTHER SIDE of HAPPINESS

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The ancient Buick hustles down the dirt road. A cloud of dust swirls up on either side of the black car and paints it a dirty gray. In the back window, a young girl presses her face against the window. Tears stream down her pale face leaving trails on either cheek. Her body trembles in her struggle to suppress the sob that tries to escape from her heaving chest.

She counts to ten on her fingers over and over again. Her eyes tightly shut blocking out the burning light of the early morning sun. A single word escapes her lips, “home.”

“Sit down in your seat girl, there’s a long ride ahead of us.”

Giant Sunflower

Sunflower by ONZE greatvitijd Pixababy

She takes a deep breath, and with all the strength that remains in her lagging spirit, she sits back in the seat. She gulps air through her open mouth and wipes the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand.

She imagines walking up the path towards her house and through the red door. She sees her mother standing at the counter loading dishes into the dishwasher. She’s singing Walking After Midnight along with Miss Tammy Wynette at the top of her voice. She’s at the part where she wails out, I saw a girl that looked a lot like Billie Joe McAllister standing atop the Chocktoe Ridge.

Her mother is swinging her hips and is lost in the moment feeling every word and note of the song. When she sees Charlie, she dances up to her and sweeps her up in her arms, and continues singing and dancing.

After what seems a lifetime the car pulls onto an even more primitive road that’s little more than gravel on dirt. It’s full of ruts and the car bumps and swerves its way down the narrow path. Then makes its way up to a driveway paved with broken seashells. “Well, here we are. I want you to be on your best behavior while you’re here. You’re lucky we found someone in your family to take care of you while your mother is away. Otherwise, you would have ended up in foster care.

“Someone in my family, who, who is it? I’ve never been here before.”

“It’s your great-aunt, well actually she’s your grandmother’s sister so she’s your great, great aunt. Your Aunt Charlotte, your mother spent most of her summers with her when she was a kid.”

Charlie gets out of the car and stood stiffly next to it. She started counting to ten on her fingers again.
The woman from Social Services grabs Charlie’s bag out of the deep trunk of the old Buick and heaves it out and drops it on the ground. “Good lord child what have you got in here, rocks?”

Charlie shuffles her feet from side to side and shrugs her shoulders.

“Well let’s go then. It’s a long ride back.”

The woman picks up the duffle bag and walks toward the front door. She rings the doorbell. After a few minutes, they hear someone coming to the door and then suddenly the door flies open. And there stands an old woman not much bigger than Charlie. She has her long white hair pulled back into a bun at the nape of her neck. She’s wearing old jeans and a flannel shirt that hangs down to her knees. Her ears are pierced and have long feathers hanging from them. Her wrinkled face is dusted with flour. There’s a smile on her face that seems somehow familiar to Charlie.

“Well, here you are, and just in time for lunch. I made some fried chicken and homemade chocolate chip cookies. They used to be your mother’s favorite. Oh, where are my manners, come in, come in.”

“Hello, Miss Tremont. Would you like to stay for lunch? I made plenty?”

“Thank you, Miss Charlotte, but I have to be on my way. It’s a long way back. Here’s my card, if there are any problems please call me. I’ll keep in touch with you ”

“Goodbye Charlie. I know you’ll be fine here with Miss Charlotte. Be a good girl. Please don’t worry. Things are going to be ok.”

Charlie stares first at the lady and then at the old woman, her hands behind her back counting. She nods at the lady and waits for someone to tell her what to do. Silently begging them to tell her where her mother is and when. When will she be able to go home? But no one does. So, she just stands there and waits. The old woman walks over to the door with the lady and whispers things to her. Things Charlie can’t make out.

The old lady comes back over to Charlie and takes her hand. “Come on Charlie I’ll show you where the bathroom is, don’t forget to wash your hands. Here you go dear take your time. Then come on in to the kitchen and we’ll eat lunch.”

When Charlie finishes using the bathroom, she’s drawn to the kitchen by the tantalizing smell of fried chicken. She follows her nose and finds herself within the confines of a kitchen unlike she had ever seen before. It’s big and bright. The walls are painted the color of sunshine. There’s a ceiling made of tin with an amazing design of birds in flight. In the middle of the ceiling is a big fan. The fan’s paddles look like they are made out of giant leaves. The curtains are blue with white lace along the edge.

But the aroma, the aroma is unbelievably fragrant and enticing. Charlie feels as if she could stay in this room forever. Comforted by the good smells of fried chicken and homemade bread and chocolate chip cookies. “Well have a seat, Miss Charlie. I can’t tell you how much I have looked forward to having you stay here with me. You’re most welcome. Please help yourself while we get to know each other. Go on now don’t be shy.”

“I’d like to tell you a little bit about myself since I didn’t have the opportunity to meet you before. I’m your Mama’s great Aunt but since my sister passed long before your mother was born, I was fortunate enough to take her place. You know you look a lot like your mother. Those deep brown eyes and that shy smile. Yes, you look so much like her when she was your age. You know she used to spend every summer here with me and we became great friends. I hope you and I will do the same. Are you enjoying the chicken? Would you like to ask me any questions?”

Charlie looks up at her with her deep brown eyes but doesn’t say anything at first. Then a single tear flows down her cheek. She nods her head.

“Charlie you can talk to me. I promise I won’t bite.”

“Where is my mama? When can I see her again? Why am I here, and when can I go home?”

Aunt Charlotte rises quietly from her chair and comes over to Charlie and kneels down and puts her arms around her. “Oh, Charlie dear, hasn’t anyone explained what has happened?”

“No, a policeman came to my school and took me. Then I was taken to a building where a lot of other children were staying. It was really loud, and I was afraid. I had to stay there for a long time. I kept crying for my mother. But no one told me anything. Then one day the lady that brought me here came. She told me that I was going to stay at my aunt’s house for a while and today she brought me here.

“Charlie your Mama isn’t feeling very well right now. She is in a special kind of hospital, but she’s going to get better and you’ll see her again soon. But until then you’ll stay here with me. You’ll be safe.  I promise, no one is going to hurt you here. I’m going to take care of you. Just like I used to take care of your Mama when she was your age. Did you know that you are named after me? Your name is Charlotte, just like me. Your Mama sent you here to stay until she feels better again, ok.”

“You promise, my Mama is going to be alright, and she will come get me? When?”

“I don’t know exactly when Charlie, but I promise she will come and get you. You and your mother will be together again. Now, how about some of those cookies? Let me get you a glass of cold milk.”
The next morning Charlie wakes up to the smell of bacon cooking. Oh, how she loved that smell. Mama didn’t cook it very often because she said it wasn’t a very healthy food. Charlie ran over the dresser and pulls out a pair of shorts and a shirt and put them quickly on. She pushes her feet into her sneakers and runs down the steps toward the smell.

“Well good morning sunshine, how are you feeling this fine morning?”

“Fine, I’m starving. I smell bacon. I just love it. Can I have some?”

“Of course, you can. I made it a special treat since it is your first morning here. Would you like some eggs too? I can make them any way you like them.”

“Really, yes Mama and I only had eggs on Sunday. Can you make scrambled eggs with the bacon mixed in?”

“Why that was your mother’s favorite too. Of course, you can, have a seat. Would you like some orange juice to go with your eggs? How about you make the toast. There’s the toaster on the counter. That will be your job in the morning.”

“Charlie, I thought that while you’re here this summer that I could really use your help with my vegetable garden out back. I grow all kinds of vegetables, tomatoes, peppers, broccoli, and some herbs. I have a fig tree, and raspberries and strawberries, and some wonderful blueberries. But this year I decided to grow something special. Your mom always loved helping me. What do you think? Are you interested?”

“I guess, but I don’t know anything about gardening or growing things. We live in the city in an apartment.”

“Well, Charlie, it’s not hard. I’ll show you how to do it. Why don’t we finish eating? Could you help me with the dishes? How about I’ll wash, and you dry the dishes? Then we’ll go outside and get started.”

“Yeah, I guess so. My mom and I never had to wash dishes at home. We have a dishwasher. I never knew anyone who didn’t have one. Are you poor?”

“Well, Charlie, it’s true I don’t have a lot of money. But I have always been rich in the things that matter. I live in a beautiful place, and have plenty of sunshine and fresh air and wonderful friends. I’ve always felt those are the things in life that make you happy. It’s a simple life, but a good one. Now let’s wash these dishes and get busy outside.”

“It’s a beautiful day today Charlie, look at that sky. A blue and white sky my favorite kind.”

“Blue and white, what do you mean?”

“Well, just the right amount of blue sky with those wonderful, fluffy white clouds. It’s a miracle really.”

Charlie looks up at the sky and sees the clouds set against the clear blue and realizes she never really noticed the sky before. In the city, the sky is filled with skyscrapers and noise. People yelling, and cars beeping and the air is different; the air in the city isn’t clear it has a color all its own. She misses all the activity, the life that hustles and bustles around her on her street. It’s too quiet here. She misses all her friends.

“Why is it so quiet here? Where are all the people and cars?”

“Well, Charlie, I guess it does seem quiet to you after growing up in New York City, but you’ll see once you start listening, you’ll hear all the sounds of nature and realize that life is busy all around you.”

Charlie looks around her and at first, doesn’t notice anything moving. Then all of a sudden, she sees a rabbit hopping across the backyard. “Is that a rabbit?”

“Yes, I call her Tilly, because she’s always digging up my vegetables. But I don’t mind sharing some with her. It’s so much fun watching her and her babies running around the yard.”

“She has bunnies, oh where, where are they?”

“Be quiet and you’ll see them come out and follow their mother around eating the clover in the grass. And if you look over there at that big oak tree you’ll see Ozzie and Harriet. They’re squirrels, and they’re the best acrobats I’ve ever seen. They can climb a tree in a blink of an eye, and hang upside down by one leg. Oh, there’s Ozzie right now at the very top of the tree. Watch how he jumps from one limb to another. ”

Charlie tilts her head back and she sees at the very top of the tree a squirrel jumping from one limb to the other. She holds her breath thinking he’s going to fall for sure. But he doesn’t. He runs down the trunk of the knurled old tree and chases Tilly from one end of the garden to the other.

“Come one Charlie we’re going to plant some seeds today. Let’s go have a look at the garden. We can decide where we’re going to plant all the seeds. As they walk across the garden Charlie can hear all kinds of birds singing. She hears one bird singing in the most beautiful bold voice. What kind of bird is that, the one that sounds like it is singing pretty bird, pretty bird over and over?”

“Oh, that sounds like a bird called the Brown Thrasher or a Cardinal.”

“Can you see him?”

“Yes, that’s him right there in that big tree over there next to that shed.”
“Oh yes that’s a Cardinal, isn’t he a beauty. He serenades me every morning and sometimes again in the evening. You know I have a little book with pictures of the birds that live in this area if you would like to read it. You can look at the pictures and the description of the birds and learn to identify them and the songs they sing. Would you like that Charlie?”

“Yeah, sure I guess.”

“Alright, Charlie here we are. As you can see, I already prepared the garden for planting. I turned over all the soil, and I added nutrients to it. I make my own compost from leftover foods and plants and soil.”

Charlie had no idea what compost is, but she didn’t want to admit it so she just listens and hopes she’ll figure it all out. What kind of plants are we going to grow in the garden?”

“Well, I thought we would plant tomatoes, peppers, broccoli, lettuce, cabbage, and carrots. But I thought this year we would plant something special.”

“What’s that? What do you mean?

“Well, two things really. We’re going to plant pumpkins for the Fall. And something almost magical, I think. Giant sunflowers, they’ll be tall enough to tower over your head and mine and then some. The sunflowers will finish growing at the end of summer, and the pumpkins will be ready by Halloween. Won’t that be fun? Here let me show you the seeds. Charlotte held out her hand and small black and white seeds were in the palm of her hand. See these Charlie; from these little seeds, a giant flower will grow almost as big as a tree. And it will grow in just a few short months. It’s really amazing what can happen given the time and love.”

“Months, I ‘am going to have to stay here for months?”

“I know it seems like forever to you now, Charlie, but I promise you the time will pass more quickly than you realize. And in that time our garden will grow and produce wonderful things for us to eat and in that time your mother will get better. You’ll see her again soon, Charlie, I promise.”

“You promise, I’m going to be with my mom again?”

“Yes, Charlie, I promise. I will always tell you the truth. Now let’s get busy planting our garden. Let me show you how to plant the seeds.”

Every morning Charlie wakes up early, as soon as the sun shines through her bedroom window. She jumps out of the bed and runs over to the window. She sees Ozzie and Harriet chasing each other high in the tree. Leaping from one branch to another as graceful as any trapeze artist in the circus. She throws on her clothes and runs down to the kitchen to see what delicious meal her Aunt Charlotte has created.

Today it is homemade oatmeal with raisins and cinnamon. Charlie never liked oatmeal before, but Aunt Charlotte make it fresh with cream and brown sugar, and cinnamon. It is always wonderful and her tummy feels warm and content when she is finished. “Aunt Charlotte, this tastes really good. Can I go out to the garden now?”

“Well, yes, you can Charlie as soon as you brush your teeth. I’ll be out there in a little while as soon as I get the dishes washed and put away.”

Charlie runs into the bathroom and gives her teeth a quick cleaning. She can’t wait to see how her garden is doing now. Yesterday the pumpkins were as big as her head growing on long vines that trailed all over the garden. But the sunflowers were her favorite and yesterday one of them looked as if it might open its petals to the sun.

As Charlie runs out through the screen door of the back porch she can see that one of the sunflowers is blooming. Its bright yellow face turns up towards the warm light of the early morning sun. It is so tall it is towering over her head like a skyscraper. And on top of the sunflower sits Red singing out Pretty Boy, Pretty Boy at the top of his tiny lungs. In between songs he is pecking at the center of the sunflower. “What are you doing Red? Don’t ruin my sunflower.” Charlie runs back into the house and into the kitchen. Aunt Charlie Red is killing my sunflower, please come outside and stop him.”

Aunt Charlotte walks out to the garden and sees Red is atop the tallest sunflower and sees he is eating the seeds. “Oh, Charlie he isn’t killing the sunflower he’s just eating his breakfast. The whole center of the sunflower is full of seeds. That’s why I covered the tops of the other sunflowers so the birds wouldn’t take all the seeds. But I left the big one for the birds to thank them for bringing our garden to life with music. We have to share our bounty with our friends.”

“Alright, Aunt Charlotte, can I pick some of the vegetables and bring them into the house?”

“Of course, Charlie, I really appreciate your help. And when you come in, I have a surprise to share with you.”

“Really, what is it, Aunt Charlotte?”

“Well Charlie, it wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you now.”

Charlie spent the morning picking the ripe red tomatoes, and glossy green peppers. She picked a cucumber that was as big around as her arm. She picked the long-string beans from their vines and finally some snap beans. Oh, how she loved to shell the beans. When she was finished, she turns on the sprinkler to give all her vegetables a drink.

She picks up the wicker basket that is almost too heavy for her to carry. Before she goes back into the house for lunch, she takes one more look at the giant sunflower. She can’t believe that this enormous flower grew from the tiny black and white seed.

As Charlie struggles through the porch door she sees her Aunt Charlotte standing at the stove. “Aunt Charlotte, wait until you see all the beautiful vegetables that I picked. They are the best ones so far. Look at how big this cucumber is.”

“Oh, Charlie that’s a beauty, you have become such a wonderful gardener, thank you so much for your help. Why don’t you go in and wash your hands? I’ve made a special lunch for us. I made grilled cheese sandwiches and homemade vegetable soup made from our very own vegetables.”

After Charlie washes her hands she looks into the mirror and sees that she’s smiling. She realizes that she is happy, and for a moment she feels guilty. But she knows in her heart that her mother wants her to be happy. That’s why she sent her to stay with her Aunt Charlotte. Because she had spent such wonderful and happy summers with her Aunt, she wanted the same for Charlie.

“Oh Charlie, there you are. Are you ready for your surprise?”

“Yes. Yes, what is it?” And that’s when she sees the sweet face of her mother walking through the doorway and into the kitchen. “Mommy, Mommy you’re here. I missed you so much. Charlie throws her arms around her mother and swears to herself that she will never let her go again.

“Oh, Charlie I missed you so much. I’m so sorry that I had to leave you. I promise I’ll never leave you again. Why don’t we sit down and eat what smells like a wonderful lunch? I have missed eating Aunt Charlottes’ food very much.”

After lunch, Charlie and her mother went upstairs and pack her things and get ready to leave. Suddenly Charlie feels sad at the idea of leaving Aunt Charlotte and the farm and Red and Ozzie and Harriet. She realizes she won’t see the sunflowers anymore or see the pumpkins grow large.

“Oh, Charlie dear what’s the matter?”

“Mommy I’m going to miss Aunt Charlotte so much. And I won’t see Red, and Ozzie, and Harriet again. I won’t see the sunflowers and the pumpkins.”

“Well, Charlie in life sometimes we have to lose something to gain something. But I promise you that we’re going to come back here to visit Aunt Charlotte. We’ll come here at Halloween to carve the pumpkins, and at Thanksgiving to eat pumpkin pie. Now let’s go give Aunt Charlotte a big hug and tell her how much we love her.”

As they hug Aunt Charlotte, Charlie wipes a tear from that threatens to run down her cheek. “Thank you so much, Aunt Charlotte. I love you so much. And I loved staying here with you. Mommy says that we’re going to come back and visit you at Halloween and Thanksgiving.”

“I know you will child, and I look forward to that every day until then. I’ll save some sunflower seeds for you and you can find a place in the city to grow a giant sunflower of your own.”

As Charlie looks out the back window of the car she smiles at the giant sunflower and her Aunt Charlie who is waving goodbye she looks so tiny standing next to the giant sunflower.

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For The Love Of All Things Feathered and Furred

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One of the enduring facts of my lifetime has been that I have loved animals. And my life has been enriched by their presence and their companionship, their unquestioning love, and acceptance.

As a young child, I made it my business to get to know all the cats and dogs in my neighborhood. I knew their names and would visit them whenever possible. My favorite cat was a stray I called Strottles, he was a large orange and white cat who came when I called. He seemed to sense that I needed him and would stay by my side for as long as I needed him too.

My father loved dogs. In particular, he liked Cocker Spaniels. And we owned several during the years that I was growing up. The first dog I recall name was Nomie. My father believed that a dog should be free to roam wherever he or she wanted to go. I loved Nomie very much and spent a great deal of time petting her and playing outside with her. I was never alone while Nomie was in my presence.

Unfortunately, because of my father’s belief that dogs should be able to run free and not be fixed. As a result, Nomie became pregnant. After her puppies were born, she became ill. My father took her to the vet, and he said she had developed “milk fever.” I don’t know if she had died, or she had to be put down. I was devastated when she died. And then my father found a home for the puppies she had birthed. I had become attached to them. But of course, even if Nomie had survived, we would not have kept the puppies. But, no one had told me that. So, when Nomie died, the puppies were given away, and I felt a loss.

We didn’t get another dog until I was about ten or eleven years old. His name was Andy he was a mutt with some Cocker Spaniel in him. But it was clear from day one that he was my father’s dog. Andy’s day didn’t begin until my father was in sight. He followed him around the house and mourned his loss if my father went out for any length of time. My father was the head dispatcher for what was then called PTC, the Pennsylvania Transportation Company in Philadelphia for forty years until he retired. He worked the third shift and slept most of the day. On my father’s day off, Andy sat next to my father’s chair. And my father would scratch his head the whole time he sat in the chair.

Andy was allowed to roam all over the small town of Maple Shade where we lived. And it was not unknown for people to report seeing in Lenola which was another nearby town.  And his look-alike progeny. Since once again, my father refused to have Andy fixed.

My father spoiled Andy in every way possible. He asked my mother to cook him corn on the cob and chicken liver and hearts as a treat. You can imagine the result of a dog eating corn on the cob every day of the week. One of our neighbor’s houses was a location that Andy liked to visit. He would often leave a token of his visit and his last meal in her backyard. Our neighbor, Mrs. Gioiella, would come down to our house every time this happened to complain about Andy’s deposit in her grass. This didn’t change my father’s behavior. He continued letting Andy out to roam where he wished. One day a neighbor set a trap for Andy to stop him from doing his business in their yard.

One day Andy returned home with a trap on his foot, my father went through the roof. He interrogated every neighbor to find out who had done it. No one fessed up. Andy had to go to the vet to have his injured foot treated. My father was angry about it for a long time, yet he didn’t keep Andy in our yard. My father was a stubborn man and somewhat inflexible.

In the Summer, my father would go down to the Ice Cream store on the corner and buy Andy an ice cream cone. My sister and I would look on with envy as Andy would eat the ice cream on a hot summer night.

Andy was an intelligent dog, and he knew how to get his feelings noticed. When my parents and my sister and I went out, which didn’t happen that often Andy would get revenge. This was back in the day when people didn’t lock their doors. Andy would go into the house and bring out the bathroom towels and all the pillows and throw them all over the front yard. His feelings would not be trifled with for any reason.

Andy lived to be an old dog. He lived until my father was retired.  Andy quietly passed away while my father was in the hospital being treated for an illness. My father was broken-hearted when he heard the bad news. It was a sad day for us all. Andy was part of our daily lives for many years. He was an integral part of our family life.

During my childhood, I had many small pets, hamsters and parakeets and finches and a chicken. I loved every kind of animal, both feathered and furred. I can not picture my life without animals.

After I grew up and married my husband Bob and I had two dogs Ulysses, a terrier and Bogie a cockapoo. They traveled with us from Florida to California and New Jersey. They were my children before I had children. Two Cockatiels Peppy and Soda Pop owned a part of my heart for many years. They were entertaining and sweet-natured.

And then there was the enduring love I had since my early childhood for cats.  Over the years, we owned eight cats. One cat remains, Sloopy, who is twenty-five years old. And our tuxedo cat, Evie who just passed away a week ago, who lived to be nineteen years old. 

Also, I took care of a feral cat colony for years. I captured the female cats and had them fixed. I would get up and feed them every morning at five AM.

Our newest pets are Douglas, a long-haired Dachshund who has stolen our hearts. And we have two parrot’s BB and Travis that I adopted from the animal sanctuary where I volunteer three days a week. I care for over twenty Parrots and two Macaws. Not to mention the two hundred animals that reside there that I consider friends. 

I have no doubt that my life would have been narrower and missing an element without the love and companionship of all these wondrous animals. And if that is not reason enough to have pets as part of your life, here are a few more. Pet owners know how much furry friends improves quality of life. They benefit us on an emotional level. Owning pets decrease depression, stress, and anxiety. Health-wise they can lower your blood pressure, improve your immunity, and even decrease your health risk, including heart attack and stroke.

So, my final word is that pets have had a tremendously positive effect on the quality of my life. My life would seem so much smaller without them in it.