On pets, vets, and one vignette.

With greasy hair and yesterday’s clothing we boarded the trolley at 7:00 AM on Friday morning. I balanced with a crate in my left hand, holding onto the bar with my right while I squeezed as far down the crowded aisle as I could. My boyfriend scouted for seats, finally snagging one for me after we had already pulled underground a solid ten minutes later. Fast forward to a minute after sitting down. A woman rises from her seat and pushes her way down the aisle towards the back exit, but before leaving she gives me some serious stink eye.

“You brought your cat on the trolley?!” 

It sounds innocent enough when written down, but her harsh, judgmental tone cut through my already self-conscious thoughts. 

I could have fought back with snark. We thought she’d like it! You know, Friday morning rush hour, just riding the rails with our cat. We’re doing this for her!

Or bitchier. I can’t believe you brought yourself on the trolley. 

Or simpler. Fuck off.

“We have to go to the vet,” I responded. As curt as I could. Which, in all honesty, probably didn't sound curt at all. For those that don’t know me, it was probably not in any way evident that I was steaming underneath. I tend to grin and bear it, as they say, or to think of something way better to say after a solid five minutes (and then write it down). The woman of course, repeated herself after she got off the trolley to the man she was with, somehow loud enough that I could hear her through the still open doors. 

My poor little feisty ball of fur. It’s not like Claudia, my kitten, was the first pet to ever travel on board Septa, nor will she be the last. For three days I watched as she refused to eat, vomited, and snuggled at my feet. I tried can after can of food. Perhaps she was just being as snobby as I when it comes to brands and had decided that her Friskies Tuna shreds were below her. Perhaps she craved the organic lobster and tuna in a crab meat sauce that I could purchase for quadruple the price. The selections were unending, but her lack of appetite continued.

Now I’ve been taking Septa almost every day for the last five years. I’ve traveled with huge suitcases, grocery bags piled at my feet, and even huge potted plants that would have been really comfortable in their own personal spot. I spent three months commuting with a gigantic boot on my leg and only on a handful of occasions was I offered a seat. Septa even came out with new signs on board the trolley this year that read:

DUDE, IT’S RUDE... 
TWO SEATS 
-REALLY? 

because a whole lot of people refuse to scooch over or put their backpack on their lap. Some days we've got a few people competing over who can play their music louder, or someone’s picking a fight because another person bumped into them, or there’s probably some kids and/or parents yelling. It seems too often people don't offer their seat to a pregnant woman, an elderly person, or someone carrying a young child or a stroller. Instead, (and I am guilty of it too) we sit with our headphones in and our phones out, ignoring the people around us until we see something we don’t like. 

I think it's time for the end of unedited spewing of unfair, uninformed judgments. Would that woman have said a word to me if I had explained to her how my kitten had refused to eat or drink for the majority of a week? Would she have understood that although I have worked a steady job for the last four years, I don’t make enough money to buy a car? Would she ever consider that perhaps we were trying to stay out of everyone else's way? Or did she just assume that I was neglectful of everyone around me, and my kitten, because I decided to use public transportation that day?

And also, why, out of all the other things that happen every single day on the trolley, is me sitting quietly with my cat the one thing she has to make a statement about?

After exiting the trolley, we had to wait on the corner of 22nd and Market for the bus north. It was cold, gray, and damp, and traffic was zooming by blowing gusts of wind in our direction. When the light turned red, a car pulled up to the intersection with the passenger windows down and a young woman leaned across the seat to yell out to us. I expected ridicule for carrying Claudia around in the cold weather. “Do you need a ride somewhere with your cat?” she asked. A ride, to wherever we needed to go. A warm car and a warm smile. Because sometimes people are kind.


P.S. My little kitten started eating again and I couldn’t be happier.