Meeting New Pet - Essay Example

of the of the Favorite Pet It was past 12 am as I inserted the keys in the front door of my house. The pitch black lounge welcomed me home. Mom and Dad must have slept I thought. Somebody had left the TV on and it was tuned in to HBO which was now showing Grudge 3. The ghastly, long-haired demonic witch on the flat screen and the dark lounge made me realize how bad an idea was watching a horror movie alone. I hastily made my way through the dark to get to the light switch. OUCH. I bumped into the hardwood couch. Swearing, I got up and stepped on something unusually soft. I bent to pick up what I thought was a cushion. I felt its feathery softness and then, as if someone on the other end was pulling the cushion, it slithered from my hands. Now terrified, I reached for the light switch. In the pitch black of the room, shiny, wide yellow eyes with extremely dilated pupils stared at me. Horrified as I already was, I screamed. Somebody turned on the lights and I saw, sitting right in front of me, a feathery fur ball; a fusion of grey and white fur with long whiskers and a small adorable face set on which were huge, hypnotizing yellow eyes and an adorable pink nose. The creature stared at me, amazed, and I could only return the amazement. That was my first encounter with our new pet, Dimka. I have had a lot of pets throughout my life. From a chick, when we used to live on a farm, to a horse who I wanted for a horse race, my experience with pets has not been quite worth remembering. I never developed the bond that people talk about with any of my pets. The reason, probably being that none of them stayed with me for long or maybe that, they all faced a traumatic fate. Seeing Dimka that night, did not ignite that spark of excitement into me. However, there was something unsettling about her presence which I could not figure out. As I came to know later, that was the beginning of the bond that Dimka and I would soon come to form. Dimka was a cat of the Persian breed which is considered the elite class in the kingdom of cats. She had been born to a lovely cat couple in my Uncle Igors house. They named her after the exquisite blend of grey and white that her body was. Seeing her now, I knew why they had named her that. Her fur reminded me of the haze that overrides the blue of a sky before a heavy downpour. Uncle Igor was leaving the country for a few months and he could not think of leaving Dimka, only a year old, alone. That is how we got Dimka. I have never been fond of cats. All those horror movies that associate cats with evil magic and witch transformations worked to create a bad image in my mind. The first few days, I did not even look at her. She would patrol the hallways and I would always change my path whenever I caught sight of her. At nights, I would refrain from getting my midnight snack just because I was afraid she might turn into witch. Looking back at those times, I cant help laughing because Dimka turned out to be the total opposite of the clichéd bad image. It all happened on one fateful night. I was up till late studying for my high school final which I had the next morning. I decided to take a break. So I plugged in my headphones, closed my eyes and leaned back on my chair. After a few minutes I felt something soft brush past my leg. I opened my eyes to see Dimka sitting beside my chair brushing her fur against me. I freaked out and shifted unsteadily in my chair, unplugging my headphones. And that was when I heard her soft murmur, almost like a whisper. She looked at me with those huge eyes of hers; wide open and her face reminded me of a small, lovely infant trying to get his message across through facial gestures. I could not help patting her and at my touch she playfully brushed herself beneath my hand. She meowed again and I knew what I had to do. I made my way downstairs to the kitchen, Dimka trudging along. I gave her some cat food to eat and watched as she devoured the whole bowl. That night, for the first time had I not only fed my new pet but also discovered how fortunate I was to have her as my pet. Since that day, Dimka and I became the closest a man can be to a pet. Now that my fear for Dimka had evaporated into thin air, I spent more time with her. She was the most adorable pet I had ever had. As soon as I got home from school, I would call out her name and she, recognizing the familiar voice, would come running to me so I could pat her. We would eat together. She would munch her cat food while I would savor my own. In the evenings, I would take her out on the terrace and we would spend hours staring down the street at people, pets, cars; the hustle and bustle of the town. At night she would sleep in her cozy little basket that I made for her, purring silently as she slept. She was a playful little cat whom the whole family adored. She got pampered at our place. So much that If one of us ignored her to do some of our own work, she would get really cranky and jump around to get attention. My little sister loved cradling Dimka in her arms and Dimka would cuddle in her arms like a baby. It is funny how without any oral communication you can still develop a strong bond. It happened with me and Dimka. Though she could not exactly tell me what she wanted but every time she came to me I could tell by her Meow what she wanted. I grew really close to her. I loved it when she jumped and sat next to me on my bed while I worked on my assignments. Doctors say patting an animal especially a cat helps to release tension. True, it is. I discovered it during my exams. When I would get tired and frustrated of all the long study hours, I would spend time with Dimka and come back with a refreshed mind. Dimka was very different from all the pets I have ever had. She was the most civilized and intelligent animal I have seen so far. Dimka had peculiar ways for an animal. Unlike my horse, who used to trash the whole stable with his feces, Dimka never created a mess in the house. Whenever nature called, she would go to a separate pot we had made for her, get rid of her waste and then cover it up with sand so as to get rid of any smell that may spread. She ate like mature people do. She finished down her food to the last bit and if anything dropped to the floor by mistake she would put it back in her plate. Cats are afraid of water and a bath is their worst nightmare. Dimka, on the other hand, did not mind bathing. The days when we could not bathe her, she would lick herself, top to bottom, to clean herself of any dirt that got stuck in her fur. Persian cats are very furry animals. The fur though very soft and loveable, sheds every day and so needs to be brushed. Dimka would love when one of us brushed her thick coat of fur and would wag her tail in the air, expressing elation. Unlike the street cats, Dimka did not eat raw or dirty food. She liked her meals clean and cooked, like humans. All these traits put her apart from all the pets I had kept so far and served to aggrandize my affection for her. I mentioned earlier that one reason I could not develop close ties with any my previous pets were their traumatic fates. My chicks had died of an epidemic. My rabbits had been eaten by some wild cats. My dog, Bobik, died in a street fight and my horse, Zorka, who I had so fondly bought, ran away. After Spirit had run away I had decided not to keep any more pets but then, Dimka came. And she was the best thing that could happen to me because she changed my view of the pet and owners relationship. She taught me how to love animals and trust them again. Two and a half months later when Uncle Igor returned, we bid Dimka farewell with a heavy heart. However, in my heart I was calm because I knew I would see Dikma again. And sure enough I did. Read More