I found out my great-grandfather was the town drunk. Like real, 1930’s Eastern-European obnoxious town drunk. The story says he ate a cat in a moment of desperation but he only told the story once and did not talk much after. His mom abandoned the family in 1930, the literal nick of time, and went to Sweden. He lost four fingers during the war, but told my mom goats ate them. He died when my mom was young, but taught her how to roll real cigarettes. His name means “glory and fame” in Polish, but I’m sure you cannot feel so glorious with six fingers. Hence why my mother had to roll his cigarettes.

My mom had to dissect a cat in high school. Early 1990’s Texas. She said it didn’t really affect her much, she just wanted to get a good grade. She also said her grandfather raised her on a farm where drowning overpopulated domestic animals was common practice. The first time I saw an animal in any amount of pain was when my hamster died in 5th grade. I had him for three months and paid $50 to get him a vet. appointment at PetSmart. He had an upper respiratory infection and died two days later. I hope it was peaceful, but my dad refused to bury him in the backyard so I kept him in my closet in a box for two months. It never smelled bad and I never looked at him. I really wanted a bunny after that because I was convinced they would live longer. I never got a bunny.

There are two stray dogs I cannot get my hands on. They run around the grocery store down the street. I cannot catch them, they are so hesitant. They have bright orange eyes and can dodge all the cars. The grocery store workers desperately call over the PA for an owner that definitely does not exist. I feel helpless every time, but The Dogs will not let me touch them. I think they can sense my family’s questionable history with animals.

My little brother used to trap dead snakes in Tupperware and hide them around the house. Big rattlesnakes. About a year ago I found a dead rattlesnake in front of my house. Really big, like 6 feet. I picked it up; I had only held a snake at the zoo. The texture was terrible and I got blood on my hands. I threw it in the bush and thought of my little brother. He’s going to school for computer science. He runs the school’s competitive ping-pong Instagram. “It’s called table tennis”, he always says. He plays sand volleyball and codes video games for fun. I understand half of what he talks about. He has tens of thousands of dollars in stocks. Good stocks too, not easy ones like Google and Nintendo. I am so proud of him.

I have two cats now that I love very much. They’re named after TV characters, but I didn’t name them. They’ve collectively brought me about 30 lizards/lizard parts, 40 mice, and two snakes. They understand my family’s questionable history with animals.