My Pets’ Adoption Stories

I have very likely mentioned before that I have a lot of pets. Specifically, Piper (cat, 8), Timon (cat, 6), Pixie (dog, 13), and two fish tanks with all manner of fish (and two African Dwarf frogs). “But Ryan,” you say, “This is a blog about mental health and gender! Why does it matter that you basically live in a zoo?” Well, dear reader, to put it simply, my pets are my life line. When I am at my very lowest, emotionally- I’m talking when I am holding the razor blade, when I’m about to check myself into the hospital, about to give up on living; they are the ones that bring me back to reality. I have never loved anyone or anything as much as I love my pets. Do I love my family and friends? Of course! Forever and always. But there’s nothing like being woken up in the morning by Piper standing on my chest booping noses with me. There’s nothing more relaxing than going into my office and staring at my fish tank, watching my beautiful neon tetras swim. There’s nothing like our nightly routine that I have dubbed “Family Cuddle Time” where Timon, Piper, Pixie, and I all gather on my bed and watch a documentary or true crime video together. The goal of this post is to convince you to bring home a furry, or feathered, or scaly, or aquatic companion to improve your mental health.

***Disclaimer: I did just say that I want to convince you to adopt a pet. However, adopting a pet is a huge undertaking. If you don’t think you will be able to love, care for, or afford a pet, do not adopt a pet. When you adopt a pet, you have to make sacrifices. You are singlehandedly responsible for the life, health, and happiness of your pet. They deserve your attention and care. This is not simply an adoption. This is a commitment.***

Piper (cat, 8): 

Piper is, to put it mildly, a “spicy” cat. She is 6 pounds of pure terror. Piper spent the first ten months of her life living in a feral cat colony, and had had no human contact until Greenhill Humane Society trapped her and put her up for adoption. When she was trapped, she was 5 pounds, and pregnant (my dad loves to slut shame her). Typically when a shelter traps feral cats, they are spayed or neutered, and either released, adopted out as barn cats, or, very rarely, adopted as house cats. The shelter was unsure of what to do with Piper at the time because she had never even been petted before, yet she seemed at least somewhat confident and friendly. 

Piper’s name before she was Piper, was, I kid you not, “Evaine.” The group of cats that the shelter trapped alongside Piper were all named after the Knights of the Round Table. “Evaine” was a wife, or a mistress or something. Either way, it’s a weird name. 

I remember looking on the Greenhill website the night before going to the shelter, I actually wanted a different cat. A little tabby cat named Jack. The next day, I went to the shelter and made a beeline for the kitten room. I started playing with Jack. The shelter worker came in after a while and asked me if I had made a decision. I said, “Yes! I would like to adopt Jack, please.” The shelter worker said, “Actually, the cat you are playing with is Evaine. Jack is over there.” Poor Jack was hiding in the corner. At that moment, I knew that my plans had changed. “Okay, I’d like to adopt Evaine, then.” I filled out the paperwork, and looked over her medical records, where I found out that she was previously pregnant (she had an abortion), and I took her home, sneaking her into my dorm. (I did eventually get my ESA letter, so Piper was allowed in my room)

The first thing I did after letting Piper out of the box they put her in, was order takeout from my favorite Vietnamese place in Eugene. Piper had already sequestered herself to the walk-in closet (yes, my dorm had a walk-in closet). While waiting for my food to arrive, I went on a baby naming website to pick a new name for her, because “Evaine” would simply not do. As soon as I said the name “Piper,” I knew that was the one. It suits her so well. My food arrived, and I sat on the floor next to the closet. Piper got one whiff of my pork bahn mi sandwich and poked her head out. I gave her a piece of meat, and our friendship officially began. To this day, one of Piper’s favorite foods is the pork from the Vietnamese restaurant Bon Mi in Eugene. 

Timon (cat, 6):

I adopted Timon about 8 months after adopting Piper. I adopted him from the same shelter, Greenhill Humane Society. He is the exact opposite of Piper. Piper is basically sweet chili sauce- spicy and sweet. Timon- he’s pure sugar. He is the sweetest boy. I adopted him at five months old. Now, the mode of adoption that I took- I do not recommend. I did not tell my roommates that I was adopting another cat. I just showed up with him one day. (I don’t claim to be a great roommate, actually, quite the opposite. That is why I live alone these days.) 

I showed up at the shelter and ended up in the “quiet room.” This room in the shelter is reserved for kitties who are a bit timid. I sat down in the middle of the room and this big, black kitten with a white patch on his chest climbed into my lap, purring. His name tag said “Timon.” His brother, “Pumbaa” was right behind him, biting my shoe laces. Pumbaa reminded me of Piper, and I didn’t think it was wise to have two Piper-style cats in the house. But Timon was sweet and timid. A perfect counter to Piper’s spiciness. When I was reading over Timon’s medical chart, in the place for a heartrate, the vet simply wrote “couldn’t get heartrate- purring.”

When I was learning about Timon’s backstory, I learned that he was abandoned, and was found in a box with his brother behind a dumpster in Junction City. Within the first few weeks of adopting him, I realized that there was some work to be done. Timon was afraid of people wearing hats, and men. Specifically, tall men. I had adopted Timon before my voice dropped from transitioning, and I was not passing as a man yet, so he was not afraid of me. To make Timon more comfortable, I would have any male friends that would come over to give him lots of treats. I also started target training with him. I would have him boop his nose on a target, and after he got comfortable with that, I would have him boop a hat. Eventually, he got over his fear of hats and men. Timon is now the man of the house, and loves his sisters very much- almost as much as he loves to eat!

Pixie (dog, 13):

Pixie is my most recently adopted pet. She is a 13 (her 14th birthday is next week, actually) year old chihuahua and rat terrier mix. I adopted her almost a year ago, after many months of internet stalking her on the Wiggly Tails Dog Rescue website. I actually wasn’t even planning on adopting a dog at first. I knew I wanted and was ready for another pet, but I was looking at ferrets, bunnies, and various reptiles. Then, one day, I thought “I’ll just look at the dogs.” The first profile on the website was Pixie, and something felt right, like I was looking for something that I lost and had just found it. I was in my last term of grad school at the time, and actually found her profile in the few minutes I had before a class. I showed the profile to my friend, Maria, and she said, “Ryan, you have to adopt that dog.” I agreed. 

I was nervous, though. My family briefly had a dog when I was in middle school, and it ended in tragedy. To even think about it makes me feel sick to my stomach, and I was worried that tragedy would strike again if I adopted Pixie. I thought about this for a very long time, and then one night, after a lot of whiskey, I thought, “Fuck it. I’m applying to adopt this dog.”

The very next day, the rescue called me to set up an introduction. I accepted, and the meeting was set about five days later. I drove to Eugene from my previous home in Corvallis. I was dripping in sweat and shaking. I was so nervous. When I got to the foster’s home in North Eugene, I was welcomed warmly, and that’s when I saw her for the first time. She came waddling out of the house. I sat down on a bench and Pixie’s foster placed her in my lap. It was love at first sight. I knew that come hell or high water, I was adopting her. Surprisingly, the foster told me that I could actually take her home that very day, and I excitedly, but nervously agreed. I wasn’t planning on taking her home that day. I was set to move back to Eugene in a month, and figured it would be less stressful for Pixie for me to wait until I was settled in my new apartment. But, it was meant to be, and it happened. I was now a dog owner. After loading Pixie and her many belongings into my old, shitty truck, I drove to my parents’ house. They knew I was meeting Pixie that day but didn’t know I was taking her home. It was love at first sight for them, too. 

About two weeks after I adopted Pixie, I took her to the vet for the first time to get her on pain medicine for her arthritis. The rescue told me that Pixie was 11, but the vet took one look at Pixie and told me that she was at least 13. She’s my old girl, and definitely qualifies as a “velcro dog.” We walk between 1-3 miles per day to keep her active, and I splurge every once in a while on her favorite Ben and Jerry’s Dog Ice Cream (she likes the pumpkin and cookie kind). When Pixie gets her favorite treats, she spins in a circle and wags her slightly-crooked tail. She is fiercely loyal, and would make a great guard dog if she didn’t only weigh 7 pounds and had more than 5 teeth. I am determined to give Pixie the best golden years an old dog could ask for, and I love her so much.

Some people tried to convince me that I would regret adopting so many animals in my 20’s, that I’m throwing money away that could have been saved for traveling or buying a house, but I can’t disagree more. All three of my fur babies have saved my life more times than I can count, and have provided me with endless love and loyalty. I would do anything for my pets, and I can proudly say that they’re all spoiled infinitely. If you are looking for a sign to adopt an animal (please remember my disclaimer from the beginning of this post), this is it. If you give your animal(s) the proper care, and lots of love, you will never regret it. So many beautiful, loving animals need forever homes.

I am trying to monetize this website, but I don’t really know how to, being famously bad with computers. So I’m going to plug my venmo and paypal. Any gifts I get from you all will be met with the utmost gratitude. I’ve got bills to pay, and pets to feed!

Paypal: @RyanYounker

Venmo: @Ryan-Younker-26