Amelia, Jerry, and the Gift: A Pets For Life Story*

 

By Erin L. Pollander, Director of Philanthropy

of Nutmeg Spay/Neuter Clinic

Co-Written and Edited by Noél A. Senna, Author, Donor

 

It was 45 minutes after office hours on an unusually cold autumn day. Jerry sat beside me with an expectant look that only cats can give as they wait for their mothers. He had been neutered earlier that day and, while I enjoyed her company, I know home was where he’d like to be. I picked up the phone to dial out to his mother, a new Pets for Life client, when the door suddenly opened and a flustered woman came barreling into the waiting room.

 

I smiled, trying to soothe the woman’s nerves. “Picking up Jerry?” I asked.

 

“Yes!” she blurted with a nervous voice. Her cheeks and nose were still bright red from coming in from the cold, windy weather.

 

I nodded and smiled. “So glad you made it,” I said. I could see the woman’s nerves settling. To help her know what to expect after Jerry’s surgery, I explained that she and I would watch a short video that would give her all the answers she needs.

 

I pressed play, but I could sense she was worried about something. With a suddenness I had not expected, she apologetically explained: “You're so incredibly kind, and here I am, 45 minutes late! I am so embarrassed. I am so sorry. I had to take the bus here, and I missed the first one. I can’t tell you how sorry I am to hold you up!”

 

I could hardly believe how sorry she was. I immediately assured her that it was no issue at all. I truly meant it. I could remember clearly the times I was in the same boat. The bus was my sole means of traveling until I was 25 years old and finally got my license. I sympathized with her more than she knew. She was a mature woman with an honest, contagious smile and a lively, youthful presence.

 

My reassurance seemed to calm her, and we continued to watch the video. After, she thanked me again and took a pillowcase out of her purse. She must have seen the confusion on my face, and she explained, “I have to put Jerry in here to carry him on the bus.” She seemed embarrassed again and explained further. “It’s so I don’t upset the other riders. It’s my fault. I couldn’t afford the cab fare.”

 

My heart sank. Remembering the restrictions of public transportation, I could relate. I immediately thought of the many times I had to take my sick cat to the vet before my license, walking long roads in bad weather. It’s easy to take a car for granted when we are used to the simple luxuries of life. But for those who live without, the most simple tasks can be troublesome. 

 

I knew without question that this woman could use a little help. And I knew how I could offer it. “How bout I take you and Jerry home tonight?” I asked warmly.

 

And that’s how I met Amelia and Jerry.

 

I pulled my car up to the curb and helped Jerry and Amelia settle in for a much easier ride back to our Pets-for-Life focus area of downtown Bridgeport. As easier as the car was than the bus, we still found traffic terrible. Honking, congestion, yelling; a typical evening commute in rural Connecticut. But Amelia and I simply passed the time talking about our pets, our past, and our hopes for the future. And I couldn’t help but smile when Amelia told me, “Ever since I was a young girl, I would close my eyes and see felines.”

 

She told me that things weren’t always this difficult as they are now. She used to have a family, a job, a car, and a home. She reluctantly confessed how she now felt like a burden to others and how much she missed her independence. I assured her that any one of us could fall on hard times, and it was certainly nothing to be ashamed of.

 

I peered in at Jerry as we sat in Bridgeport traffic. Purring softly, his eyes slowly blinking showing us how comfortable he felt, almost agreeing with everything Amelia was telling me. As we drove on, we passed by dozens of abandoned buildings defaced with graffiti and broken glass, pedestrians and stray animals weaving in and out between cars, waiting in traffic, paying little attention to the road. The city was alive with police sirens, cars honking, music blaring, and people yelling. Hardly the type of community you would imagine when you think of retirement.

 

“But today,” Amelia proclaimed with a clashingly joyful tone, “Today is different. You have reminded me that karma does exist. And we have had the good fortune to exchange gifts.” I felt a warmth in her words. She continued, “You have done this incredibly kind deed of taking me home, and to do a kind deed for another is certainly a gift. And now I receive the gift of paying it forward!”

 

How beautiful, I thought.  My heart swelled, and I sat up straight in the driver’s seat – Amelia was right; this was a gift, for both of us.

 

As I dropped off Amelia and Jerry at home, I gave her my business card and told me to call me directly when she needs to get her other two cats spayed, and I’d be more than happy to pick them up and drop them off the day of their appointment.  I gave Amelia a hug, said my well-wishes to Jerry, and got back into my car.  As I pulled away from the curb, Amelia and I both smiling and waving, both a little teary-eyed – I couldn’t help but think back to a quote I heard during a fundraising class.

 

Social activist Bryan Stevenson said, “The opposite of poverty is not wealth; the opposite of poverty is justice.”  If we have the means and the opportunity to help another, we not only have the obligation but the privilege to do so. 

 

Because you care about helping people in your community that are often overlooked, and in some instances, looked down upon.

 

 

Because every time you look into your pet’s eyes, you think of all the homeless animals still dreaming of their forever home.

 

Because you know there are simply not enough adoptive homes, and something has to be done about the ever-growing pet overpopulation issue.

 

Because you can imagine a world with a forever home for every pet – and you know it starts with accessible, affordable spay/neuter services for every pet, every family, in every community.

 

Because donating to charity gives you an opportunity to invest in your values.

 

No matter what your reason -- Donate Today – and in a world that is hungry for kindness -- give the gift of paying it forward.

 

*Based on a true story, names have been changed to protect client and patient privacy

 

This #GivingTuesday, make a tax-deductible donation today by visiting https://www.nutmegclinic.org/giving-back and join the movement to end pet homelessness!

Imagine a world with a forever home for every dog and cat – it starts with accessible, affordable spay/neuter services for every pet, every family, every community…and you.

Our goal is to end pet overpopulation – and it starts here, at Nutmeg Spay/Neuter Clinic.