Alston H.
We found my cat, Filothei, In Athens, Greece. My family had been living there for a few years while my dad was working at the Embassy, and our cousins had just flown over from the States to visit for a few weeks. We were on our way to our favorite restaurant when my little brother heard soft mews coming from a bush separating the sidewalk from the busy road. He bent down and lifted the leaves to reveal this extraordinarily small pile of white and orange fur with huge, unblinking green eyes. Immediately, my cousins and I began begging my mom to let us keep it. North Athens was crawling with strays, so us pleading for my mother to keep one of the unclaimed cats/dogs was not a rare occasion. But, for some unknown reason, this time was different. She turned to my aunt - who was also trying to push the unofficial adoption and spoke in thoughtful whispers before facing us again. She told us the deal: if the kitten was still there by the time we got back from the restaurant, we could keep it.
12 years later, and my mother is still in disbelief that Filo was there almost 4 hours after we first saw him curled up underneath that bush.
Because we got him so young, Filo views me as his mother. He doesn’t care that I am a human, nor the fact that I do not have the ability to speak his language. At home, we are attached by the hip, literally. I have to carry him like a baby or he won’t stop following me the entire day. Filo has his routines and they will not be disrupted, not even by a global pandemic. His normal day under quarantine has consisted of waking me up at o-dark-thirty so that he can sit in the sink while I brush my teeth, stealing my spot on the couch when I get up to make coffee, staring at me for hours as I do my classwork, and unknowingly suffocating me as I sleep when laying on my face.
Filo has always brought me a sense of comfort, and it has only deepened in quarantine. His unwavering companionship and concrete daily schedule are some of the few things I know I can count on in this new world of uncertainty and unknowns. And although this lock down has taken away a lot of experiences I was looking forward to in my senior year of high school. It has blessed me with precious time to hang out with my best friend before I go to college. I can’t imagine what I am going to do without him.
We found my cat, Filothei, In Athens, Greece. My family had been living there for a few years while my dad was working at the Embassy, and our cousins had just flown over from the States to visit for a few weeks. We were on our way to our favorite restaurant when my little brother heard soft mews coming from a bush separating the sidewalk from the busy road. He bent down and lifted the leaves to reveal this extraordinarily small pile of white and orange fur with huge, unblinking green eyes. Immediately, my cousins and I began begging my mom to let us keep it. North Athens was crawling with strays, so us pleading for my mother to keep one of the unclaimed cats/dogs was not a rare occasion. But, for some unknown reason, this time was different. She turned to my aunt - who was also trying to push the unofficial adoption and spoke in thoughtful whispers before facing us again. She told us the deal: if the kitten was still there by the time we got back from the restaurant, we could keep it.
12 years later, and my mother is still in disbelief that Filo was there almost 4 hours after we first saw him curled up underneath that bush.
Because we got him so young, Filo views me as his mother. He doesn’t care that I am a human, nor the fact that I do not have the ability to speak his language. At home, we are attached by the hip, literally. I have to carry him like a baby or he won’t stop following me the entire day. Filo has his routines and they will not be disrupted, not even by a global pandemic. His normal day under quarantine has consisted of waking me up at o-dark-thirty so that he can sit in the sink while I brush my teeth, stealing my spot on the couch when I get up to make coffee, staring at me for hours as I do my classwork, and unknowingly suffocating me as I sleep when laying on my face.
Filo has always brought me a sense of comfort, and it has only deepened in quarantine. His unwavering companionship and concrete daily schedule are some of the few things I know I can count on in this new world of uncertainty and unknowns. And although this lock down has taken away a lot of experiences I was looking forward to in my senior year of high school. It has blessed me with precious time to hang out with my best friend before I go to college. I can’t imagine what I am going to do without him.
Audrey B.
I believe that animals are some of our closest companions; this is especially true for my neighbor Cindy Waters. Mrs. Waters has lived in the house next door for years, watching the steady stream of military families moving in and out of the house we currently live in. Mrs. Waters is one of the sweetest neighbors we have had. Her husband, unfortunately, died a few years ago, leaving her alone in a large house. Losing your other half is never easy, especially when you have been together for most of your life. Mrs. Waters has some medical issues that she has developed with age. Her grief and medical conditions isolated her. She had her trusty beagle, almost 13 years old. That beagle was always by Mrs. Waters side; wherever Mrs. Waters went you found her beagle with her. That was until two years ago, Mrs. Waters had yet another unfortunate loss. Around this time last year, Mrs. Cindy was tired of having loneliness as her only companion, so she decided to go and get a dog from the shelter. This is where Jesse, the energetic 5 year old beagle, whose owners had just dropped her off at the shelter comes in. Usually my family and a few other neighbors on the street go and visit with Mrs. Waters, but with COVlD·19 and her medical conditions we have had to hold off on visiting her. So Mrs. Waters has relied on Jesse to keep her company and watch over her during this pandemic. As somebody who is already isolated quite often, Mrs. Waters has had a difficult time not having her time to interact with her neighbors. From my back porch I can hear Mrs. Waters talking to Jesse, a constant conversation. If you know anything about beagles, they are not known as quiet dogs, their howling bark is a staple of the breed. Jesse is no deviation, as Mrs. Waters talks to her, Jesse responds with a howling answer. One that Mrs. Waters almost always answers with a chuckle and a Shh. This quarantine has been a hard one, especially for our elderly and sick communities. However, with Jesse by her side, Mrs. Waters has been able to survive the quarantine due to COVID-19, but she still wishes that this, "dang virus would just leave". So do we Mrs. Cindy, so do we.
I believe that animals are some of our closest companions; this is especially true for my neighbor Cindy Waters. Mrs. Waters has lived in the house next door for years, watching the steady stream of military families moving in and out of the house we currently live in. Mrs. Waters is one of the sweetest neighbors we have had. Her husband, unfortunately, died a few years ago, leaving her alone in a large house. Losing your other half is never easy, especially when you have been together for most of your life. Mrs. Waters has some medical issues that she has developed with age. Her grief and medical conditions isolated her. She had her trusty beagle, almost 13 years old. That beagle was always by Mrs. Waters side; wherever Mrs. Waters went you found her beagle with her. That was until two years ago, Mrs. Waters had yet another unfortunate loss. Around this time last year, Mrs. Cindy was tired of having loneliness as her only companion, so she decided to go and get a dog from the shelter. This is where Jesse, the energetic 5 year old beagle, whose owners had just dropped her off at the shelter comes in. Usually my family and a few other neighbors on the street go and visit with Mrs. Waters, but with COVlD·19 and her medical conditions we have had to hold off on visiting her. So Mrs. Waters has relied on Jesse to keep her company and watch over her during this pandemic. As somebody who is already isolated quite often, Mrs. Waters has had a difficult time not having her time to interact with her neighbors. From my back porch I can hear Mrs. Waters talking to Jesse, a constant conversation. If you know anything about beagles, they are not known as quiet dogs, their howling bark is a staple of the breed. Jesse is no deviation, as Mrs. Waters talks to her, Jesse responds with a howling answer. One that Mrs. Waters almost always answers with a chuckle and a Shh. This quarantine has been a hard one, especially for our elderly and sick communities. However, with Jesse by her side, Mrs. Waters has been able to survive the quarantine due to COVID-19, but she still wishes that this, "dang virus would just leave". So do we Mrs. Cindy, so do we.