The Lens:
We had the unfortunate experience of losing our beloved cat right before Christmas. We got him as a kitten and had him for 16 years. He started out as a teeny tiny little guy and grew into a 16-pound bruiser. Actually, bruiser is probably not the best adjective to use. He was not fat, just big – and as cuddly as they come.
He also appeared strong and healthy. He was kitten-like in his energy level. But, I guess when it is your time . . .
I happened to be home when he collapsed in the hall. In a very short amount of time, I could tell he was in trouble. By the time I called the vet to see if I could rush him in, he was gone.
We had recently been talking about what we might do when our little fury friend, Bucky, left us. We thought we had a few more years. Still, in spite of his demeanor, he was a geriatric cat. Would we want to make another commitment that might last 16 years?
The decision came much sooner than we wanted or were prepared for. I am still surprised how devastated I felt at his loss.
The question of whether or not to get another kitty came up quickly. When we got Bucky, we also had another cat, Dita. We had her for 7 years before getting Bucky. So, all told, we have had a cat living with us for 23 years. That is a long time to have a feline companion . . . and then be without one.
The hole was gaping.
My son who lives with us had been thinking, for some time, about getting a kitty for himself. He hadn’t done so because he wasn’t sure how Bucky would react. When we lost Bucky, we talked it over. With no other cat in the house, he decided he would adopt a cat.
In some ways, it was a minor issue – who owns the cat in a house where we all live. On the other hand, there is the day-to-day care. Ownership would speak to who would be the main caretaker.
I remember when we got Dita. We had to fill out paperwork at the SPCA. One of the questions was “Who will be responsible for taking care of the pet?” I said aloud, “We all know who that will be!” and entered my name in the spot.
It is different now that my children are grown. They are well capable of taking care of a pet. So, it will fall to my son to feed the new little kitty, clean her cat box, etc.
While he is the main caretaker, I still help out. Most notably, the kitty tends to get up earlier than my son. My son will let her out of his room. She will bound upstairs where I have a bowl of food and fresh water waiting for her. She’ll get in a little play time, too, before my son gets up.
Our new little kitty is sweet and cute as can be. But, she is not Bucky. She has her own emerging personality. She has not quite filled the hole Bucky left. Still, she brightens my mornings when she bounds up the stairs.
The Refraction:
How many of you remember Hillary Rodham Clinton’s book, “It Takes a Village?”
Yes, our new kitty is my son’s. But, the village has been an integral part of little kitty’s short life – the people who found her, the SPCA who took her in, the kibble manufacturers, those who made the cardboard pet carriers we used to bring her home, etc., etc., etc. My husband and I have also imparted some “parental” wisdom on how to care for kitty.
I am being facetious here. But it was what made me think of Hillary’s book.
And, then think of . . .
Politics.
It is so incredibly tiring.
Elections are worse.
Hillary’s book came out early in the year Bill Clinton came up for reelection. There is nothing one side won’t seize on to discredit the other, often resorting to distortions, blustering, inaccuracies, presenting things out of context, and sometimes just being contrary.
Bill Clinton’s opponent was Sen. Bob Dole who said of Hillary’s book: “We are told that it takes a village, that is, a collective, and thus the state, to raise a child. And, with all due respect, I am here to tell you it does not take a village to raise a child. It takes a family to raise a child.”
Of course it takes a family to raise a child. But, even the most put together families do not raise a child in a vacuum (which was pointed out to Mr. Dole by many). Besides the obvious like teachers, the village includes grocers, clothing retailers, home builders, etc., because a child needs food to eat, clothes to wear, a place to live, and parents need the means (employment) to provide these necessities for their children.
These last few years have been a sea of derision and division. We are losing our sense of being a village. We are blind to our need for each other, that we are stronger together. We ignore that we are sewing chaos and that we cannot thrive as a village or society in the midst of chaos.
Our divisions may be real. But, just as real are our connections – the things we all need and want. By focusing solely on our divisions, we are destroying our village, cutting off our noses to spite our faces.
I blame politics for this. Today, especially, politics is where divisions are sewn – on campaign trails, in governing bodies. Somewhere down the line, lambasting and discrediting your opponent vs. touting why you are the best person for the job became the most promising vehicle to win and keep a political office.
We are a village. We need each other. Not just to raise our children, but to thrive. What I find most discouraging in all of this is I don’t know how we find our way to being a village, to the understanding we may disagree but there is a common ground. Ideas, anyone?