Henry

I met Henry for the first time when he was 5 weeks old when he was living upstairs from where I work. I learned that the owner had left him, his brother and his parents alone for two weeks, and discovered him in a recycling box full of feces when I went into the apartment. I happened to be at the vet and asked him what to do. The vet said you need to take the puppies until he comes back or they could get sick. After the owner came back, a few weeks went by and then he called and said I’m moving and you need to take the dogs right away. So, I adopted him and a friend adopted his brother so that they can stay in touch and have play dates. I recently discovered that his parents never leave the apartment and when I walked Henry’s father, he didn’t know what to do outside since he’d never seen another dog outside the apartment. 

Henry is so loving, so kind and patient with us. He’s a wonderful dog in every way, and we’re so lucky to have him in our family. He’s a herd dog and loves to herd the canada geese at the park. He inspires us with his openness and his playfulness. He’s only seven months old and we look forward to seeing him grow.

Fraser and Me

Not long ago my mom declared that it was time for the family to get a new dog. At first I was quite surprised by this announcement. In the many years since we had owned our last dog, my mom was the defector in the family whenever there were whisperings about possibly adopting a new pooch. My confusion over her reversal of opinion lasted until I realized that, with my younger sister about to graduate from high school, my parents would soon be the only occupants of their home. My mom’s new interest was more than a fleeting curiosity – it was her way of preparing for the potential loneliness of an empty nest.

I was more than willing to help my mom find a new companion. It wasn’t long before I found myself looking at pictures of dogs on the local animal shelter website. After what seemed like only a few minutes of searching, I came across a picture of a small terrier with shaggy blond hair. He seemed to be about the size that my mom was looking for, and he reminded me of our family’s last dog. I scheduled a time when we could see the pooch, whose name was Fraser.

Upon meeting Fraser, the first thing that I noticed about him was the way that he looked at me. While other dogs would simply glance up nonchalantly when I was in their company, Fraser stared me down. His gaze was not threatening or pleading, though. What I saw in his eyes was more of a curiousness, a pondering. It was as though he was studying me; searching my thoughts and motivations and weighing them against his own. It was then, during this staring session, that I fell for Fraser and decided he was the dog for us.

Fraser has been a part of our family for two years and continues to impress us with his perceptiveness and curiosity. No matter what you are doing around the house, you can be sure that he is close by, watching and analyzing. This charming trait, along with his joyful, fun-loving nature, makes him an important part of the household: a pet who has added new meaning to the word.

- Robert Hamilton

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Molly and Peep

Molly is our black furry cat and is actually a male despite the name. We thought he was a girl at first but by the time we found out differently, the name had stuck. We adopted him and his sibling Piper from a friend who had taken them in but couldn't keep them along with her own two cats. This was just after we moved into our condo.

So we had these two frisky kittens in our new home as our third and fourth cats and they loved having such space for their playground. Molly soon became our morning wake-up cat -- the cat who climbs into the bed the first thing in the morning for strokes, petting and general attention. His fur is soft, thick and luxurious, and it didn't take much to get him purring! 

When we adoped our fifth cat, there was some antagonism from Molly. He behaved like the displaced middle brother who was no longer the center of attention, chasing and swatting at our newest adoptee. We ascribed it to an almost-human jealousy and hoped it would pass.

But it didn't, and we had to maintain peace in the house, so we installed a pet gate. He squeezed through the bars, so we blocked the gaps. He jumped over it instead, so we put in a taller gate. After he learned to scaled that one (which took all of ten minutes), we finally had to gate the entire doorway to keep those two cats apart. It was an amazing show of determination as Molly overcame each challenge! 

I miss the morning visits from Molly and I often think that his jealousy proves that cats feel human emotions like love just as strongly as we do.

 

Peep the Maine Coon

Peep is our Maine Coon. She is a nine-year-old female with soft gray and brown fur. We adopted her from one of the big-box pet stores after my wife saw her while shopping for Christmas gifts for our other four cats. Peep just looked so sad and lonely in the store cage. Her first weeks at our house showed how bashful and skittish that experience had made her--she would run for the nearest closet and hide from the world at every chance she got. 

We let her be and gave her love and comfort. Gradually she warmed to her new home. She made a habit of sleeping between our pillows on the bed, and later began to venture out into the living room to hang out with the whole gang.

It didn't help to be the only girl-cat in house full of boys. Their curiosity and attention led to occasional hissing and chasing, and we ended up installing a gate to protect her. Lately, we even find her scratching at it when she wants social time. And when she gets tired, she jumps on to the couch, rests her head on my leg and falls asleep.

She even developed a close bond with our tabby (who recently passed away) and engaged in some mutual grooming sessions! They just loved to lie and sleep next to each other. And that is the thing Peep taught me about love: after receiving so much of our love, she was able to pass it on.

D. Roberts

Colby, Our Fifth Family Member

Colby didn’t think he was a dog. We swore that such an attitude was the source of his longevity; a Labrador retriever that lived past his sixteenth birthday who believed our little pack was populated entirely by animals of the same species. He slept on a bed and thought dog bowls were for dogs. Unlike every other Lab in history, he never rushed to his bowl when we poured in his kibble; Colby simply loved human food. We sat eating with a hand raised high out of habit, otherwise Colby would leap up and devour our food. When visitors arrived at the door, Colby greeted them with a shoe in his mouth and carried it around for a minute or two; he kept a collection under the dining room table. One summer we lost a running shoe and the following spring found it in the woods by the lake: a greeting that had gone too long. Colby reminded us that family extends beyond ourselves. He loved completely, without hesitation. Even when he could no longer thump his tail or carry shoes in greeting, his eyebrows wiggled around his head to show his joy at being with us. He is sorely missed.

James Zug

 

Jesse, An Unforgettable Cat

As I get ready for my trip to Europe, I think how Jesse would climb into my suitcase when I was getting ready for a trip. He would lumber over and climb in and look at me. He wanted me to take me with him.

Jesse was so present. Always. He was never checking his cell phone, ipad, he was never looking away as if thinking of someone or something else. He was steady and only vocal with rich, loud purrs, which started to be less frequent as his heart disease progressed.

I used to talk about him as a feline tractor, his purrs were so loud.

His big beautiful heart just grew to be too big for his body.

He didn’t need witty repartee or active conversation. He seemed fairly content to roll on his back and hold my smelly socks in his paws like a river otter does with a mussel. He came to met me at the door without fail until he could no longer walk without too much pain or exertion.

Jesse loved to eat. Until a year ago he finished every bit of his food as if it was his last meal. He relished it licking his lips and sometime grunting with sheer pleasure. When I let him outside in the yard, he would amble towards the catmint and lie on top of the tender green leaves as if smothering them with his vast orange and white body was somehow symbiotically important. The catmint is flourishing now, so it must have been true. Jesse had very clear expressions and when he really wanted something he could look at me with eyes that seemed so wide that they reminded me of the Disney cartoon eyes jiggling with intention.

Sometimes Jesse would climb his staircase to sit on my lap on the couch and would squeeze my finger with his paw. I would squeeze back and he would squeeze me back again. He didnt’ care how I looked. He loved me no matter what, when I was sick, coughing, when I was lonely and feeling boring, when I was rushing and stressed, and when I came back from a trip. He never made me feel bad for leaving him.

In fact, he welcomed me home and then wanted to lie on my shoes.

He loved his catnip rainbow with an intensity only imaginable for a catnip addict.

He was happy riding in the car, showing great interest in the surroundings and looking calmly out the window.

As a tag team, he and George had it down. George would go outside and bring in the mouse and Jesse would execute it quickly, often scuttling across the floor much faster than seemed possible for his weight.

When I gave him baby food on my finger he would lick it with immeasurable gentleness.

He was always loving rolling from one side to the next and since he could not groom himself below the chest, would start rapidly licking his paw when I would clean him. When I brushed him and voluminous fur would come off in the brush, he would dig into the fur and try to eat it as if it were essential.

He snored.

He purred.

He was so loving.

And so loved.

Miranda Loud

June10, 2013

Remi, a Puggle Who Makes Everyone Smile

Remi is seven years old, and still has the energy of a puppy. He goes to daycare every day, and loves to play with his friends although he’s not so fond of bigger dogs. We start each day with a morning walk to Dunkin Donuts. I get my coffee and Remi gets a munchkin! Remi loves his munchkins and has even woken us up in the middle of the night and taken us there to try and get one! On the day of the 2013 Boston Marathon, Remi and I were out for a walk enjoying the beautiful day and watching the runners. I wanted to walk to the finish line but for some reason Remi was reluctant, and wanted to go home. I conceded, we went home, and ten minutes later bombs went off at the finish line. Remi saved me and I am so grateful to him. Remi is truly a member of our family.

Mona

Ten days before my birthday, in October of 2011, Sam decided to change our date night to a “let’s find a dog” night. On a whim, we stayed on the F train for a few more stops; we headed to Fort Hamilton Parkway. We arrived and used Google Maps to find Sean Casey Animal Shelter- a no kill shelter in Brooklyn where they take all animals, even the exotic sort.

We went with no idea of whether we would bring home a dog or cat- maybe a bird. The kind people at Sean Casey showed us all of their dogs and cats that were upstairs. We saw some lovely animals, but none of which we felt were “ours.” There were no magic moments.

As we decided to leave and try another day, feeling fully disheartened, one of the workers told us to wait. He asked what we were looking for, and when we stated we needed a small dog, full of personality, which is interested in people, and without aggression issues, he said he had the perfect dog.

We waited in their attached pet store, looking at the birds and kittens. In walked the worker and this lovely little energetic tri-colored dog that upon seeing me, jumped up to lick my hands. She had no fur left over one eye, her coat was very thin, and she was wheezing and coughing. I knew at that moment, she was ours.

It was weeks before they let us take her home because she was so sick from infections and kennel cough they were afraid she would not make it or she would be too sick for us to care for. We went back every day after work to walk her and she would cry every time we left, breaking our hearts. Sam and I began nesting- we bought her a pink heart-shaped metal name tag, a crate, bedding, ceramic dog bowls in an iron stand, researched food and veterinarians, and finally they said we could bring her home.

October 8, 2011 we brought home our little Mona doggy. There have been trials with training and an unexpected awkward period of getting to know each other, but Sean Casey’s behaviorist was there every step of the way. They helped us learn what she needed and wanted and helped us learn to cope with her separation anxiety.

It’s nearly a year later and she is a happy and healthy part of our family who is full of energy and quirks. We love every bit of her, the dog who licks our feet at night and our faces in the mornings, the dog who barks at anything she feels like, running from one side of our Brooklyn floor-through to the other, the dog who has opened our hearts in ways we never imagined.

By Tabitha A. Manwaring

September 18, 2012