The emotional issues we bring to our lives with animals are immense, I have been writing about it for years, and am always surprised by the things I need to learn and understand about animals and me. Minnie is an important animal for me, in many ways, some I have become disconnected with. Her amputation today is bringing these issues to the fore, reminding me of why she is important to me, opening me up to her.

She was elemental in my relationship with Maria, adopting her was literally the first thing we ever did together.Shortly after Maria and I met, we began planning an art show called “Art Harvest,” it was a coming out for us and some artists we knew, it was the first time I felt close to Maria, sensed a connection, although I never imagined how deep it would become.

We were having lunch – one of our first times together – at Steininger’s Restaurant in Salem, N.Y. and Maria and I were talking about a cat she had seen advertised at the town dump in need of a home. You could take another cat, she said, and I thought it would be good for Mother, a barn cat I had become very close to and loved.  Mother was a larger-than-life animal, ferocious but loving, she had adopted me and watched over me constantly.

Maria then told me the cat at the dump had been adopted, and the waitress overheard our conversation. She had a feral cat, she said, who had given birth to a litter of feral kittens under her porch. None of them were socialized or comfortable around people. I thought that kind of cat would make a good barn cat, a good companion for Mother. So that night, Maria and I drove out to North Hebron, where the waitress was waiting for us with Minnie in a cardboard box. I took her to Bedlam Farm, put her in the barn with Mother, she was shy and guarded, I didn’t really even see her much for weeks, even months. Maria helped her get settled.

Then she slowly began to emerge, a quiet cat, shy and reserved but sweet and increasingly friendly. I am not the kind of person who loves all animals or pretends to, unconditional love does not have as much meaning for as it does for others, I think love ought to be considered and meaningful, not offered gratuitously and universally. Such love does not have meaning for me. I have a lot of wonderful animals who have come through my life – Orson, Rose, Elvis, Winston the rooster, Izzy, Lenore, Pearl, Red, Simon and Lulu and Fanny, Frieda, I supposed Minnie just got lost in that shuffle. I didn’t pay all that much attention to her, although she was always coming up to me, rubbing against me, looking for attention. Usually I pushed her away.

I saw her as needy, a bit weak perhaps especially when compared to Mother, I suspect it was a projection of the way my father saw me, a ghost that has recurred from time to time in my life with animals. When I went to put a photo up of Minnie this morning, I realized I had very few, I rarely take a picture of her, revealing in itself.

Besides, there was Maria, who loved Minnie and always spent time with her, rubbed and petted her. I am remembering all this on the eve of Minnie’s amputation, focusing on her importance to me, to us, her sweetness, her adaptability and generosity. This morning the vet called with the estimate for the amputation – I gulped, Maria and I did, it is not an expense we need right now – but I didn’t hesitate to say yes and neither did Maria. I realize that Minnie is important to me, too. We went over to see her.

She is looking good, alert, affectionate, she has a lot to say this morning. When we next see her, she will have a stump and that, said the doctor, will be a bit of a wake-up call. I imagine so. We will take good care of her, she will be inside for a week or so.

We went over to the vet’s to see Minnie before her surgery and Dr. Fariello said I could come over and take a photo just as the surgery began, and we both agreed it wouldn’t be appropriate – too distracting – for me to stay during the operation. I am drawn to photograph something like that, I was a police reporter for a long time, blood does not bother me. But not this time, too close to it.

So life happens and life goes on. It challenges us to grow and change and learn, Minnie’s troubles are a gift. She does not understand what is happening to her, she will adapt and adjust without complaint as animals do. I will do the same. I am re-working my ideas about Minnie, opening up my heart, my soul, to her meaning in my life. It is a shame it takes trouble and suffering for that to happening, but I am a man and that is the way of men.