Day 1212 Patience

 

It’s been one week since we brought Gypsy home, and although she’s still hiding, I remain optimistic that she’ll settle in, relax, and someday maybe even enjoy being here. Each pet we care for needs something unique from us, some more work than others. My pony, Mr. D, was fun to ride, feed treats to, and brush with his beautiful golden mane, but he certainly required plenty of daily care.

I’ve spent a lifetime mucking stalls, cleaning coops, and feeding animals, some of which I liked more than others, but as humans, it’s important that we take care of all creatures. Maybe that’s why Gypsy spoke to me. She spent all three of her short years feeling nothing but fear and uncertainty, simply in need of a safe space. I don’t need her to jump into my lap and purr; my only goal is for her to feel secure and live out her life warm, fed, and happy.

I’m not sure Mr. D loved us jumping on him bareback and riding him around the yard, but he went along with it and never seemed too bothered....too bad she wasn't a talking horse! With so many pets in need of homes, I wish we humans did a better job of caring for them… but no, it still doesn’t mean dogs should be shopping!

As a child I was fortunate to have lots of pets, cats, ducks, chickens, goats, Mr. D, and even a cow named Cheeseburger (a nod to his purpose). Each year the barn swallows would give birth to new babies and push out the weak ones, which I would scoop up, bring inside, and try with all my might to nurse back to health, never successfully,  but that never stopped me from trying. Nature can be cruel, but those birds knew they had to sacrifice one or two to save the rest. Tough choices in the barn, but necessary ones. 

The barn was also full of swallows, and they would come to life when anyone walked inside. The birds would aggressively swoop around territorially, warning me that I was in their zone. So I learned at at early age that I was a guest in their world, and to tread lightly in it. I loved all the animals and you might think the pony would have been my all-time favorite pet, but it was a tiny goat named Charlie who stole my heart forever...him and a tiger cat named Caius. Now that’s a good name.

So now we have Gypsy, still not a name I would’ve picked, but Tim seems to think it was meant to be. Weeks before I brought her home, he had been listening to John Mellencamp, and a song called “Gypsy–Scottie” was playing on repeat. Then Bridie had her baby and named him Scottie, and I brought home a cat named Gypsy. Somehow the coincidence of the song made it feel like both were meant to be. Weird but true. So Gypsy it is… like it or not.

Maybe in another week or two ...or another month, she’ll trust us just enough to peek around the corner and come out of hiding. And maybe someday she’ll realize she’s finally safe. For now, all we can do is show up with patience, kindness, and love, and let her decide the pace..the basement is her zone now, and I am acutely aware I'm a guest in her world when I walk in.

You can judge a man’s true character by the way he treats his fellow animals.”
~ Paul McCartney