It was 1967 when we took her to the vet, her name was Lulu. She was a smooth-haired fox terrier. (Fox or terrier? Not sure!) Lulu stayed there for the day while we went to the co-op, Dad demanded more money from Volkskas and we drove around the dusty little town in our Ponton Mercedes. We had chips, Coke and warm bread, then it was time to collect Lulu. She had yellow stuff and a fresh zipper on her tummy and she walked rather stiff-legged and looked dopey. As a small child, the day was a busy one. I knew what was happening to Lulu, or so I thought.
The next Lulu smiled in my face when I told her she was a real brown bitch; she was my Spaniel and she slept behind my back. I smuggled her into the room via the outside loft stairs at night. She attracted too many boyfriends and Mon didn’t take kindly to that. She was Lady Angelique De Something but we couldn’t care about titles. It were puppies we didn’t want. So, to the vet she went and also she returned with stitches and a stiff gait – and dopey. The year was 1979.
Spookie was our white cat. She was taken to the vet in 2013 and we were told she had “very small kittens inside” when the operation was done. I am not so sure they were so small as I saw her crawl into all sorts of tiny spaces just a few days prior. Her stiff gait was less pronounced, she also was less dopey and the zipper very small.
It was when Spookie started acting weird that I was spooked. Around the time that she was supposed to have given birth, she started looking all over the place for her kittens. Finding none, she drove Seun crazy – he was our very innocent and technically disarmed tomcat with some discreet Bengal blood in him. Spokie cuddled Seun, he had no peace the way he was being nursed by a caring “mom.” Yet Spokie went in search of her kittens, meowing relentlessly as she went.
That was when I decided that I won’t ever do this to an animal again. Right now, Ginger is growing a belly and in search of a private little corner……..