Ollie
Holy shit, I didn’t have a clue how fuckin’ big this operation was that Pixie’s running here on the property. Why I gave her that name I don’t know, but it sure fits her. She has just about every animal that would visit a vet and more. Dogs and cats in one house. Hamsters, ferrets, and rabbits in a small cabin off to the side from her main house. Another cabin with birds, and finally a couple of paddocks that have horses, donkeys, and even a momma cow and her calf. A barn is off behind the fields, I’m guessing to house down the big animals in the evenings. On the other side of her house are runs for dogs and a shaded area for them to be outside and play. As I wheel around on the paths, I greet some folks who appear to be working, cleaning, and feeding the menagerie on the land. It runs like a fine-tuned machine.
As I head toward the smaller barn like house that has a homemade sign, canine/feline habitat, my excitement seems to build. Why I’m so fascinated with these cats is crazy as shit, but I’m also feeling ‘normal’ for the first time in a long time. According to my therapist, I’m the type of person who needs to be needed and that I want to care for others. I tend to take it to the extreme, so she’s not surprised that an injured animal and babies would grab my attention. She said right now, in the shape I’m in, they’re probably the only things I could care for and feel useful doing, from what I’ve told her. Also, as long as I don’t go off track and continue with all my therapies, she thinks being around animals can be a form of healing and a good thing. Helps with some kind of balance or shit, I don’t remember; she was rambling about all kinds of stuff in my last session.
Approaching the entrance, I’m kind of shocked to see a handicap button to push so the door opens automatically. This whole place is accessible for anyone, which means Paisley—no, I like calling her Pixie—really planned ahead following code for those with a disability so they would be able to get to all the different buildings. And I like calling her that because then it feels like there’s something between only us—but damn—Pixie has not only put a lot of thought into this but also money. Nothing has been left to chance. On entering, I’m in some sort of waiting area as a bell sounds. I move toward the desk waiting. From the left side, I see a door and then someone walks by with a garbage can in their hands. I can hear all kinds of hustle and bustle from the rear and sit back in my chair, expecting to wait a while. It gives me time to go over what happened with Pixie in the house. I didn’t mean to startle her, but damn, when she landed on my lap it felt great, though I was shocked. Thank God my hip is just about healed, even though she weighs next to nothing, I don’t want to chance anything going wrong right now. Thinking that, I didn’t want to let her go. Not to mention she landed just right and immediately I felt a rumble in the jungle below, so to speak. Something that’s been a long time coming, no pun intended. Since getting injured in Bahrain, that’s not been on my mind. Occasionally I get the urge, I’m human. But let’s face it, when I was living in my sister’s house and not being able to drive around, I’d been taking things in hand so to speak. I smile at that thought,damn, I’m pretty sharp today.
Shaking my head, trying to get it out of my ass, it did shock me that I threw out that cute nickname for Paisley. I don’t even know her well, actually, we’re just acquaintances. Fuck, I’ve seen her what—once, no twice—but damn the name fits her to a T. Hopefully, she won’t mind but I like calling her that. Just then the door opens and out walks some older man, rag in hand. He looks down and smiles at me, wiping his hand on his jeans first then extending it to me.
“Howdy there, fellow. You military?”
As I nod his hand tightens for a minute then let’s go.
“Thank you for your service, young man. Seems like you got a story to tell. How long you been Stateside?”
Realizing he talks like a soldier I ask, and he grins.
“Yep, 5th Infantry Division better known as the ‘Red Devils,’ Vietnam. It was a mess and not something I’m going to put out there because to this day some people don’t appreciate the service we men put in over there. If they only knew what we saw and did, they might change their closed-ass minds, but that’s a story for another day. How ‘bout you? I’m guessing Middle East. Oh, sorry, buddy I’m Joseph but go by Joe, by the way. And you, boy?”
Almost choking at him calling me boy, since no one has called me that since my dad back home, I give him my name and a much shorter version of our botched-up mission and what happened. When I finish, he’s shaking his head, dirty hand running through his graying hair.
“Well, I’ll be, nothing changed, has it? Just like the powers that be to leave the grunts on the ground to take the blows, while they sit in their fancy offices spouting out orders with no regard to us soldiers in the line of fire. Sorry to hear all that shit but glad you came back in one piece, or close to it. What can I do for ya today? Looking to adopt your next best friend ’cause we have all types here?”
I explain about the momma kitty and her babies, which brings a grin to his face.
“Ah, you mean the queen and her court. Miss Paisley gave them the huge cat enclosure, so they have room and left the kittens with their momma. Been taking care of them since they got here. Momma is on the mend and the little ones are growing by leaps and bounds in such a short time. That’s what food will do. Come on, I’ll take ya back to them. Just give your hands a wash when we get in at the utility sink. We try to keep it as clean as possible. Have you been to see the little creatures and the horses, foals, and colts? That’s a sight to see. Miss Paisley puts everything she has into this place, and it shows.”
I nod as he smiles while we both wash our hands and dry them. I follow him through a long hallway. Someone must have renovated the inside of the building because I doubt it had this wide long hallway in it originally. As Joe continues to give me the lowdown on everything cats, my mind continues to be overwhelmed. How the hell did Pixie get all this off the ground? Just the work involved in getting this up and running would be overwhelming. Not to mention all the regulations that need to be followed. I’m sure she knows them, being a veterinarian. Surely, she wouldn’t take a chance to have anything mess up her business. Why, is another one of my questions. What made a vet, who I’m guessing is a single lady, want to take on all this extra work? Natalie said her clinic was the one to go to because it was established and had an awesome reputation. So why take on all this? Doesn’t make sense, but who am I to ask? Maybe she’s just a really huge animal lover. Why it even matters I can’t figure out. But it does.
Joe goes through a small doorway and right in front of me is a huge room with a half door and glass or something on top so you can look inside. I take a quick glance and my heart stops. It’s momma and her babies. All cuddled up and taking their afternoon snooze, I’m guessing. So friggin’ cute. Turning before I can ask the question, Joe motions and points to the wooden bottom of the door. He reaches over and opens it as momma raises her head briefly then puts it right back down, closing her eyes which are different colors. Didn’t notice that before.
“So go on in and be careful. Don’t wake them up, give them some time to focus or they’ll scratch the shit out of ya. Just give me a holler if you need anything. I’ll be right down the hall in the other part of the building, it’s the dogs turn, and I got runs to clean and need to feed the hounds. Nice to chew the shit with you, Ollie.”
He turns and walks out and now I’m alone. As I move closer, two of the kittens stretch and start to wake up. Momma again looks my way as I get as close to her as possible, shifting my arm toward her so she can scent me. Not sure that’s even a thing but I just want to show her I mean no harm. Her ears go back a bit but as she noses me, I slowly scratch her ears and then the purring starts. This cat is not feral, but someone’s throwaway.Assholes. Their loss,I think to myself.
Sitting close to the edge of my chair, balancing on my good foot, I lean even farther and very carefully start to pet her. She leans into my hand and that’s it, we’re good. Both of us are injured but still willing to reach out with trust for others and show affection. Deep feelings inside me start to loosen my mind, and I hear one of the therapists explain how sometimes you don’t know why but something small and off track could be the right thing to begin your healing process. She also said that healing doesn’t take away what happened, it just allows me to put shit in perspective. And right now, I’m feeling that, as those dark memories are pushed back just a little bit, clearing up the fog inside of me to enjoy being in this moment. To be grateful I’m alive, and right now this is helping me more than all the therapy and talking has so far. I feel this thinking about Pixie, her farm, and all of these unwanted animals she’s taking care of. For some reason, this is somehow clearing my mind. Allowing me a brief moment of peace, allowing me a quiet minute so I can enjoy life.