One of my all-time favorite books as a child was Barney Beagle (and any of the sequels). As it turns out, two beagles were the finders of one of the best treasures of my life.
I had just returned from a quick overnight trip to Louisiana. Joey showed me a shoebox containing a t-shirt and an ugly black-and-white, palm-sized, rat-looking thing. Upon closer inspection I found it to be a kitten, dirty and barely alive, eyes still closed. The beagles had sniffed it out behind the fence. It had been abandoned by it’s mom.
I called my college roommate who lived in town. Her husband was a veterinarian. After getting instructions and well-wishes from him, I set out to purchase a tiny pet bottle, milk, a heat lamp, and the other things he said just “might” help him survive.
He made it through the first night.
And then the second.
He didn’t like his first bath very much. But he loved his bottle. Every. Four. Hours. Even at 2am.
He opened his eyes on the third day. He would sleep under the heat lamp until hunger awoke him. He would cuddle up under my hair on the pillow case after his bottle.
I took him to work. He stayed in my office for the first few weeks. In a box under the heat lamp. He quickly outgrew the shoebox, but stayed relatively contained for quite a while. People would stop by to check on him; ask if it was feeding time; ask if they could feed him, hold him, etc. Funny. Nobody asked if they could litter train him!
Spunky became the little guy everyone pulled for to make it. One of my preschool friends affectionately called him "Skunky.” He was the hero to many.
Well, make it he did. He made the move with me from Austin to Boston. He’s almost 19 now. He’s been with me through many ups and downs. He’s made me laugh and made me want to throw him out the window. I’ve often called him my cat-dog-human.
He’s one-of-a-kind.
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