Pet Life

I was once a member of an expatriate’s Facebook group. Somebody, a Kenyan, once posted a picture of a snake he had killed in his house. The post had about 200 angry comments.

‘Did you have to kill a harmless snake???’

‘This is a brown house snake, it is harmless and you are cruel for killing it.’

‘Are you proud of yourself big man for killing a snake that can’t harm anyone?’

‘I have a few around my house, I let them hang around and eat the rats in my house.’

It wasn’t looking good for my brother until I came across a comment that summarized what all other Kenyans were afraid to say. It had about 200 likes on it, I assumed in agreement. My brother Omondi wrote;

‘In Kenya, all snakes are cobras and are treated as such!’

I laughed a little too hard. The expatriate community was not amused. I wondered if they would be more annoyed if they knew that all small, white dogs are also ‘Chiwawas’.

I didn’t know much about the pet culture growing up until I started working at Andy’s Vet Clinic. I learned that people take care of their pets and treat them like little humans who are part of their families. On a cold and dreary morning, as I checked in to work, there would be someone freezing in the reception area with their beautiful dog waiting for the Doctor to come in and the conversation would be something like this

‘Good morning Mrs Andersen. How are you and how is Pippa this morning?’

‘Pippa has had a really rough night. She couldn’t eat and had a slight wheeze. She didn’t sleep much and I think she may have caught a bug.’

If Pippa needed to be admitted, Mrs. Andersen would bring in her accessories and essentials for her. Her collar with her name on it, her bed and sleeping blanket, her feeding bowls, and maybe her food because she couldn’t just eat anywhere or anything.

It took a lot of getting used to because in my house we only ever had one pet growing up. I use the word pet very loosely. It was a dog and her name was Betty. There is a chance Betty may have been a male too but I guess now we will never know. She was a mangy dog with a coat of many colours, just like Dolly Parton. A golden brown mixed with black and a darker brown all coming together to form a not-very-beautiful weird color.

I have no idea where she came from or how she became our pet. But we never took her to a vet or ever said to anyone that she had had a rough night. All her living nights were rough, I guess. We didn’t have feeding bowls for her. We would just yell,

‘Betty, Bettyy, Bettyyyy!!!’ Betty would come running and we would throw the food leftovers in the grass for her to eat. Sometimes there would be other dogs around and they would fight for the food in the grass. Poor Betty!

One day we woke up and she was dead. It was really sad for us kids. The adults had bigger problems to worry about. So alongside my siblings and a few close friends of Betty, we held a funeral service and pretended to cry. I hope she/he is resting in peace.

We also had a little cow, we never got to name her. She was really pretty; black and white with a thick and shiny coat. I hear that is how healthy cows look, I know nothing about cows. Every morning when one opened the kitchen door overlooking her pen, she would be looking at you with her beautiful cow eyes.

One morning, Mum opened the door and realized that no beautiful cow eyes were looking at her. We all heard her shout hysterically to my dad,

‘JOE!! Eku Ng’ombe!!??’ Joe, where is the cow!

Dad must have been awfully confused at that point because where the hell else would the cow be except in its pen? So he came out and they both stared at the empty pen. We woke up to stare at it too before we registered that our beautiful cow had been stolen by the usual bastards.

It was a really sad day, especially for the parents. They still have a bit of trauma from that loss. We all wanted to cry but it felt a bit silly crying for a cow. I didn’t know years later I would cry for someone’s dog. If I had known that, I would have cried anyway and let my siblings laugh at me.

One beautiful lady brought her dog to the vet because she had grown too old and she needed to be put down. The dog, not the lady, ha! She was a lovely dog but too many dog years had taken everything out of her. After the doctor had put her down and the beautiful lady came to pick up her body, she said she would be late so I stayed on to wait for her.

When she saw her lovely dog’s cold and lifeless body, she started to cry. I tried to comfort her and ended up crying harder than she did. We cried for a while at the reception, clinging to each other like relatives mourning their loved ones together.

I felt a little embarrassed going home with puffy eyes looking like beets and snorting away because of a dog I had only known for three days.

I remember in high school how my friend Renee had told us about how her dad had to beat up a pesky cat that kept stealing food from the pot. He was furious. He grabbed it by its ears and slapped the hell out of it with a slipper. It sounded really funny and we were laughing like a bunch of little hyenas until we realized one of us, Isabel, was not laughing.

She had pulled up her sweater to cover her face and we could tell she was crying.  Poor Isa, such a cat lover, was broken by the thought of the beating on that poor pesky cat. I think she may have been appalled at our behavior too. We were just shocked at hers.

I was once cooking for a party at a client’s house in the leafy suburbs. This fat cat came through the door meowing loudly and obnoxiously as if announcing the arrival of the emperor, with him being the emperor. My client stopped everything she was doing and started talking to him.

‘Tom you are a very naughty boy. Are you here for more sausages? You have already had eight sausages today. I will only give you two more. No more, okay!?’

She ran to her fridge, took out some sausages, and fried them as she told me more about Tom because I probably looked more into Tom’s life story than deep frying samosas.

‘Tom is such a gentle cat. He is a stray cat but I let him come over to eat. When he showed up the first day, he had so many injuries and he was a skinny and unhealthy boy. Now he is growing bigger and he looks healthier. Isn’t he cute?’ she asked, cradling him on her lap and feeding him four more sausages.

Tom munched away on the sausages while looking at me with eyes that said ‘Stay out of this, this is not any of your business lady.’

Isabel would have been so pleased with my client. I was too but I questioned silently if the sausages were necessary.

I have grown up and learned a lot about taking care of pets and animals, thanks to my experience at the Vet. I know how to treat them respectfully and with as much dignity as you would a human. I have learned they have personalities and need to be treated according to their personalities. I also found out dogs can make the most horrifying farts too. This I found out the hard way.

One very distinguished gentleman brought his beautiful St. Bernard to the vet. I have never seen such a majestic-looking dog. The Doctor was not in yet so he took the time to educate me about his beloved Yogi. Every few minutes the air would fill with the pungent smell of what I hear is called a Yusuf Moto. Do I need to explain what that is?

I was starting to get really irritated. I asked myself what gave this gentleman the right to fart in my face like this? Was it part of their culture to fart freely? Did he dislike me for some reason?

A few minutes into it, maybe sensing my rising annoyance, he said,

‘Yogi makes the most lethal farts by the way, just in case you think that is me.’

I didn’t even know what to say to that!

One time, this guy brought his huge Rottweiler to the clinic and did not carry himself with the social graces I had recently acquired at the clinic. He said to me,

‘Niaje! Hiki Kidoggy kiangu ni kama hakiskii poa. Doc anaweza kiangalia?’

I was not amused and I tried to talk him down.

‘What is his name and what is the problem?’ I asked politely.

‘Kinaitwa Dante. Kinalala tu, hata nikitry kukiamsha kinalala tu.’

I was not happy at all because I was already used to gentle parenting on the pets. Here he was speaking so rough on this beautiful and sick Rottie. I wanted to ask him if Dante had a feeding bowl or if he threw his food in the grass but I did not.

If you are looking for an amazing world-class experience with your pets, look no further. Andy’s Vet Clinic gives you services that are convenient and affordable for you, including home visits. Look them up and thank me later!