Reward, Lost Cat, The Search for Spock
42 pages
English

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42 pages
English

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Description

This is a true story where the main characters are feline. There are some humans too. It is a story of cat love and loss. It is also a story of two humans finding each other and of human love and bonding. My name is Don Weiser. I had three cats: Jones (who is all black with green eyes and is going on 21 years of age), Spock (who is an Abyssinian and is presently lost), and Sam (who is a huge orange tabby who was a stray). I lived in Albany, NY for 17 years and worked for the Department of Social Services. My wife Beth lives in North Carolina and had three cats: Smokey (who is a lovely lion like gray tabby with the largest head I have ever seen), Maggie (who was a solid black cat with gold eyes), and Rosy (who is also a solid black cat with gold eyes and who is Maggie's daughter). Beth and I are now married (8/90) and live in North Carolina with our six cats. Maggie is dead, Spock is lost, and Junior (the youngster cat who is a tabby) now lives with us. These are the main characters and the story is about how we all came to live together in North Carolina. I hope you find it interesting. It may make you cry, I hope it makes you laugh too.

My book is meant to help anyone whose pet is lost. What to do, what steps to take before your pet is lost to help ensure that it doesn't get lost and to make recovery easier. If it does become lost, what to do in the first hours, first days, first weeks, and long term up to how to deal with the possibility of never finding your pet.

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Publié par
Date de parution 21 février 2013
Nombre de lectures 0
EAN13 9781456609665
Langue English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0300€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

REWARD
 
Lost Cat
 
The Search for Spock
 
 
Written by Donald Weiser
 


 
Copyright 2012 Donald Weiser,
All rights reserved.
 
 
Published in eBook format by eBookIt.com
http://www.eBookIt.com
 
 
ISBN-13: 978-1-4566-0966-5
 
 
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.
 
Dedication
 
This book is dedicated to Spock, who, in only two years brought me much laughter and joy. Also to my wife, Beth, who stood with me and helped me even when the search for Spock became obsessive, chores didn't get done, appointments weren't kept; to my friends Bev and John who came to my apartment in Albany, NY twice a day (even when I insisted that once a day would be enough) to feed my cats in my absence, even on workdays and in the depths of Albany, N.Y. winters when the temperatures can easily be below zero and the snow blowing. To my mother Ella for teaching me to love animals, and finally to the many wonderful people in North Carolina who actually cared about Spock and took time from their lives to try to see that he would be returned to me. Thank you all for your great kindness and help.
 
I would also like to thank our remaining cats: Jones, Junior, Rosy, Sam, and Smokey for coming into the computer room at all hours of the day and night to check on my progress, to sit in my lap at times and distract me for some petting, to hit a few wrong keys on the computer (I hit enough on my own) and to reassure me that the love between human and animal is a close and special one.
 
"Animals are not brethren, they are not underlings; they are other nations, caught with ourselves in the net of life and time." Henry Beston.
 
Introduction
 
"All animals except man know that the principal business of life is to enjoy it." Samuel Butler.
 
This is a true story where the main characters are feline. There are some humans too. It is a story of cat love and loss. It is also a story of two humans finding each other and of human love and bonding. My name is Don Weiser. I had three cats: Jones (who is all black with green eyes and is going on 21 years of age), Spock (who is an Abyssinian and is presently lost), and Sam (who is a huge orange tabby who was a stray). I lived in Albany, NY for 17 years and worked for the Department of Social Services. My wife Beth lives in North Carolina and had three cats: Smokey (who is a lovely lion like gray tabby with the largest head I have ever seen), Maggie (who was a solid black cat with gold eyes), and Rosy (who is also a solid black cat with gold eyes and who is Maggie's daughter). Beth and I are now married (8/90) and live in North Carolina with our six cats. Maggie is dead, Spock is lost, and Junior (the youngster cat who is a tabby) now lives with us. These are the main characters and the story is about how we all came to live together in North Carolina. I hope you find it interesting. It may make you cry, I hope it makes you laugh too.
 
My book is meant to help anyone whose pet is lost. What to do, what steps to take before your pet is lost to help ensure that it doesn't get lost and to make recovery easier. If it does become lost, what to do in the first hours, first days, first weeks, and long term up to how to deal with the possibility of never finding your pet.
 
I never found Spock. I tracked him for several months, following the sightings. Even though I was unsuccessful, luck (good and bad) plays a part; my book is full of good advice detailing the steps to take if your pet is lost.
 
Since Spock was a gift from Beth when I still lived in Albany, NY and she in Kernersville, NC, the book is also a story of how two people "find" each other, fall in love, conduct a long distance relationship, get married and are happy.
 
Combining these two disparate elements (love and loss) allowed me to include humor and even recipes and I like to think of my book as my "Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance".
Chapter 1
The Young Me
 
I'm the kid who volunteered to take home the science class's guinea pig for the summer. It ate Mom's rugs, furniture, and electrical cords. Thanks, Mom, for putting up with us. The kid who gave turtles, parakeets (mine slept with me on my pillow), and our dog Tippy proper burials with a few words about being loved and missed along with the kid tears. We had a dog because Dad wouldn't allow cats in the house. I've certainly made up for that attitude.
 
"A dog is the only thing on earth that loves you more than he loves himself." Josh Billings.
 
Tippy was my first dog. He was a "mutt". He was wonderful. Part Chow, I think, because his tail curled up over his back, always, except when he was reprimanded for something when his tail would drop between his legs. We lived in the woods in upstate New York but along a busy road, (Route 209). Tippy always greeted me when the school bus would drop me off and then greet my Dad when he'd come home from work. Tippy always met Dad in the driveway, that great tail wagging. Dogs seem to have an ability at expression that cats wouldn't be caught dead exhibiting. They wear their hearts on their sleeve much more than cats do. One evening Tippy outdid himself and thought he'd meet Dad one better, in the road. I don't think he ever saw the car coming in the other direction. We buried Tippy that evening.
 
So you don't think the kid was all piety and love, I should add that I grew up in the woods and one thing kids that grow up in the woods do is hunt. I personally assisted birds, chipmunks, rabbits, and squirrels in leaving this world before their time. I also hunted deer as an adolescent. I am grateful now for being too fidgety, smoking too many cigarettes, and being too cold to ever see one to shoot at. When I reached what I would call a minimum level of consciousness, I sold and gave away my guns. Hunting is a barbaric sport. Hunters break the First Commandment. Take a camera into the woods and shoot all the game you want. You'll get all the spiritual benefits of being in the woods close to the animals without all those nasty marks on your record. I know, they'll only starve to death anyway and you're doing some great Darwinian thing by killing animals but really, aren't you just being sadistic for taking a life that is perhaps more deserving of living than you are? Marksmanship is a wonderful thing. I was the only Conscientious Objector in my Army unit to score Expert on the rifle range. I could kill 'em if I wanted to Sarge but I choose not to. For that little belief, I served three months in the Stockade at Fort Belvoir, VA . So, go and shoot at some targets or some skeet. Life is sacred; you should not take it away.
 
Chapter 2
How Beth and Don Met
 
Since Beth, my fiancée at the time (now my wife) gave me Spock as a present; I feel I should speak a little about Beth and me. I belonged to Mensa which some of you will recognize as the I.Q. Society. I first remember reading about Mensa in an article about Simon & Garfunkle which said that Garfunkle was a member and described what Mensa was. I was impressed because at the time I thought that Garfunkle was the one who wrote the words to their songs and let Simon have the spotlight because of Garfunkle's shyness. Being somewhat shy myself I was always ready to believe in the greatness of shyness. Garfunkle was the brains and Simon was the showman. This, of course, was not the case and now I see the error of my thinking. I am also much less shy now and seem to subscribe less to my shyness theory. Theories come and theories go. Paul Simon is a wonderfully creative individual, which brings me to the flaw in Mensa. Garfunkle and I may have IQs in the genius range but just as stupid is as stupid does, genius is what genius does. I'm afraid I've done very little with whatever gifts I was given.
 
I used to have something I called Weiser's Backwards Theory of the Universe. Stated simply, it said that the universe was sort of backwards from the way it should actually be. Things like fighting wars to gain peace. Things like loving a person so much that you tell them little lies in order to preserve that love. This doesn't work as we all know and you often end up losing the love you lied to keep. Friends also tell little lies to their closest friends simply because they are good friends. You know, things like, yes, that book you're working on is very good or, yes, I think quitting your job and becoming a guide on the Rio Grande is a great idea. The universe seemed a little backwards to me at times and still does but I've been able to make my peace with it. I think I gave a speech on this once in Speech 101. People laughed and had a good time. I shook from nervousness but got a good grade.
 
Anyway, Beth was separated from her husband; she belonged to Mensa also and placed an ad in the personals section of the monthly Mensa newsletter. I remember it being a nice ad saying something like FM (female Mensa) likes canoeing, music, and sports cars. She never said she was pretty even though she is. I wrote a reply to her ad and one evening in November she called me. We spoke for two and a half hours and I remember liking her and thinking what a nice Southern accent she had. Beth grew up in Ohio but had lived in North Carolina for the past 14 years.
 
We spoke infrequently because I was dating in Albany, N.Y. and she was dating in North Carolina. When we did speak however, it was grand. I highly recommend getting to know someone over the telephone. It’s mind talking to mind. No groping, no worry about clothing, etc. Beth and I talked more and more often and eventually she sent me some pictures of herself, after some pleading on my part.
 
I don't want to malign the U.S. Postal Service (I really think the

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