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Animals

We have not been an animal-friendly campus.  It started with Sister M. St. James’ dogs.   The first one I remember was Rex.  I can’t remember his breed.  He was a large rather stately animal, loved by St. James and tolerated by most.  But not so our next acquisition. 

When our hospital in Modesto closed we acquired three things that I know of:  1) Mrs. Clarke who worked in the kitchen in Modesto and came to work in ours,  2) the crucifix that to this day hangs in the back of our chapel and has become a place where we invite people to place Post-its with names of people for whom we wish to pray, and 3) Wiggles. 

Now Wiggles was a bone of contention from the day he came to be with us.  There was an instant love affair as far as Sister M. St. James was concerned but unfortunately a deep hatred with the superior, Sister M. Assumpta, and the novice mistress, Sister M. Eleanor.

St. James could be heard calling “Poochy Poo” at all hours as she tried to find him. (We never knew if “it” was “him” or “her.”)  St. James would be saving choice bits for her beloved Poochy Poo.  Unfortunately Poochy Poo kept getting fatter and fatter until its stomach had encounters with the sidewalk.

One day there was sadness in parts of the land and relief in other parts. A novice (maybe Barbara Moran) was looking out the window and saw the dog catcher’s wagon and poor Poochy Poo being driven away in it. 

Now there were no such thing as protests in those days, but some of us were about to initiate one.  We were thinking, “What a cruel thing to do to this eccentric old nun.”  That is as far as protests got in those days.

Well, St. James eventually recovered and went on with her daytime occupation:  making dimities for coifs.  She used the Community Room    (present day Gathering Room) as her sewing room.  It happened to be the room in which I had to teach my liturgy class.  If those young nuns know very little about liturgy, it isn’t my fault.  It’s the fault of that sewing machine and its machine gun sounds.

Moving ahead a few years we come to our next animal.

Bippy

Sister Jacqueline Crouch lived at St. Bartholomew Convent in San Mateo.  Somehow she had acquired a cat she named Bippy.  Things seemed to work out well for Bippy at St. Bart’s but for some reason Jacqueline brought Bippy to our 40 acres to live.  J. didn’t know much about cats so she didn’t contain her in a box for the trip but let her loose in the car.  When the car stopped at 2300 Adeline, Bippy leapt from the car and was not seen again for two weeks.

The group in which I lived had our community room in the present Acacia Room.  One evening when Sr. Marguerite was looking out the window she spotted Bippy and began to call her in.  I remember saying, “Marguerite, if you let that cat in we’ll never get rid of it.”  Well, she did and we didn’t.

Sister M. Amadeus loved the cat at sight and took control of it, feeding it and caring for her litter box.  Amadeus could be heard around the neighborhood calling, “Here Bip,Bip,Bip.”

Well there are many dramas about this cat, but I won’t go into most of them.  Bippy had two litters of darling kittens and we, being responsible owners, had to find good homes for them.   We had a rich source of “victim families” because we were high school teachers and could interest the girls to take one home.  We insisted on meeting the girls’ parents to make sure the kittens would really be accepted.

Bippy had her home in my office (the old practice rooms in the Coolock Wing.)  One day she got very sick.  We knew that the end was near and unfortunately it would be the weekend when the men were not around.  Marguerite, in typical Marguerite fashion, wrote a work order to have the men dig a grave for our Bippy.  She described the grave and even drew a picture of what it should look like.

Now our administrator was Otto.  (Don’t remember his last name.)  Otto and John Coovert (in charge of maintenance) hated each other.  But when they got that work order they got to laughing so hard that they ended up for the evening at a bar and from that day became great friends.

Sister M. Amadeus felt terrible about Bippy’s death but her response to life was always, “That’s the way it is, Sister.”

Bird

We got Amadeus a little white bird.  She loved that little bird but she told me, ‘You know, when I’m out of the room the bird doesn’t sing.”

Well, one day the little white bird died.  Amadeus was living down at Marian by this time.  A caring staff member went out immediately and got another little white bird to replace it.  She thought Amadeus would never know the difference.

We were all so happy that things had turned out well.  I went into Amadeus’ room one afternoon, and she was talking to the bird very lovingly.  I was so happy.   Amadeus turned to me and said, “They don’t know that I know this is a different bird.” Well, I thought, “That’s the way it is, Sister.”

Our favorite animal, Andy, will be next.