This column originally was published in the Tribune on Feb. 19, 2001.
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Frances was raised out in the country in eastern Washington. Mom was an animal lover but Dad never liked cats. He got mad when she would bring one home.
Then a stray cat started hanging around the place and took to sitting on the fender watching while Dad worked on cars. The cat developed the habit of reaching out and batting Dad's nose once in a while. He started calling her Nuisance.
Nuisance got pregnant, had four kittens and died three weeks later. Dad raised the kittens. Dad, not Mom, was the one who got up in the middle of the night to feed them. He gave two to neighbors and kept Goldie and Bootsie.
At about 6 years of age, Bootsie got an infection in her lungs. He brought her to the vet several times to have the pus drained from the chest, but it kept filling up again. He spent money and more money for antibiotics.
Then, one winter night, it got really bad and she was having a lot of trouble breathing. Dad got up and took her out in the dark, cold night and shot her. Goldie lived a long happy life. Dad helped her battle chronic kidney failure and cancer during her last years. He finally took her to the vet for euthanasia when she was 20 years old. I think, when he put a name on old Nuisance, that's where it all started.
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No one will ever know what came over Ginger, I suppose. She was one of many pets in a good family.
In the large back yard they had to play in, Ginger gradually became harder and harder to catch. Her owner could feed her but he just couldn't catch her. The harder he tried, the worse it got.
He finally came to the clinic asking about tranquilizers. He had found a good new home for Ginger, but needed to catch her to take her there. I gave him two pills, a double dose, and told him to give them to her in her food and wait and hour or two.
He came back the next day. He said she hardly got sleepy at all. I gave him six pills, and told him to give her two at a time, every hour, until he could catch her or he ran out of pills.
He came back. I gave him eight pills and told him to give them all at once. When he came back this time, I just didn't want to take a chance on an even higher dose. Tranquilizers will only do so much. He really wanted to get this dog into a good home without hurting her. We talked about several options and he finally said he had some ideas that he would try.
He came back a few days later, smiling. He had used several big sheets of plywood to build an elaborate funnel leading to a narrow alleyway, kind of like they use for penning cattle or catching wild horses. Then he chased Ginger around the yard until he managed to get her into the narrow alleyway, and was able to put a leash on her. He said she actually seemed to enjoy this game, a lot more than he did, anyway.
Once he caught her she settled down and it was not bad transporting her. Ginger fit right in at her new home and her new owner has no trouble catching her. Maybe her being a nuisance had a purpose too.
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Roen is a retired Clarkston veterinarian whose columns were published weekly in the Lewiston Tribune for more than 30 years. He may be contacted at jazzvet@cableone.net.
