Ferna The Genet

I had lived in Nebraska my whole life; it was my home. The beautiful town of Chadron, I remember the landscapes even now. My parents were lovers of animals, always even when they were kids. They had been childhood friends; as soon as they could date, they did.

They had been each other's one, and only, they never needed anyone else. When I was little, I thought that would happen to me one day, I would find my one and only. But I was a lonely kid, regularly dressed in a dark red hoodie and always sat in the back of the class.

I was too shy to introduce myself to other kids my age; they seemed so imposing. Never in all my years of schooling had I gotten a true friend; people avoided me or labeled me the 'weird animal kid.’

You know how most kid’s parents get them a dog or sibling when they are lonely? Well, my parents had the same mind frame, just not the same kind of glass on their lenses.

I was around thirteen years old, seventh grade. Oh, looking back, I feel the awkwardness that age held. But I had walked home, and I recall it was a Monday, the absolute worst day of the week even now. My mom had been waiting right outside for me, her curly blond hair frizzy just like mine.

“Owen sweetie, we have a surprise for you!” Her hazel eyes were sparkling. She was bouncing on the balls of her feet; sometimes, I wonder who really was the child when it came to her.

I had always been close to her; she was probably the closest thing I had to a loyal friend. I loved my dad too, but It was a different kind of love. Then, though my parents and I were drifting a little, the teenage years were naturally rough on our relationship.

"Ya, mom? What is it?" The tiredness and disinterest were rich in my voice; that day had been a long one.

"Aw, c'mon Owen, be a little more excited. Trust me, you're going to love it!” I sighed and gave her the most of a smile I could muster, not very much. She rolled her eyes and motioned me inside. Before I could even make a move for the door, she was running into our house.

I loved that house; it had so many memories that I cherish even to this day. It was tiny, only really fit for a couple rather than a family. But my family made do. My mom and dad loved it and never wanted to leave even after my birth.

I slowly made my way inside the house, slugging my backpack off my shoulders and groaning at the ache in them. I looked over and saw my dad, a mischievous smile on his face.

“Dad? What’s that look for?” You could hear the suspicion in my voice. He just grinned wider and motioned with his head to my mom, who was coming around the corner.

“So, I know you’ve been lonely, Owen. Me and your dad had a talk, and we decided to get you a little something...” My mom had a cage in her hands, a grin identical to my dad's on her face.

I knew they were up to something; I bet most kids my age would have assumed it was a dog or cat. But like I said, my parents could not get an animal as 'ordinary' as that.

The cage was small, a typical cage for most cats or more petite dogs. "Ok, I know it isn't a cat, and it's probably not a dog. What's in the cage, mom?" I had a bored tone, not really what I felt it was best to act so, though.

My mom’s grin faded a bit, a bit disappointed in my lack of enthusiasm. She should have been used to it by now; I knew she still hoped for me to be more like my younger self.

But I was growing, and that was difficult, hormones and stuff. “You really want to know what it is?” Her voice was hesitant now. I did not really care then. I was not really that interested in whatever she was planning to show me.

"Sure, mom." My dad's grin had also faded. He was not disappointed, probably more mad than anything. If I didn't act excited or happy once they showed me, I knew my dad would yell at me.

My mom moved over to me; I caught the glance she threw at my dad. She put the cage on the floor and shot an almost happy smile at me. "Well, look in the cage, sweetie!" And I did as she said, getting on my knees to peek inside.

And all the way in the back, curled in a little ball, was a small little spotted creature. I had thought it a cat, for the tail and the ears. But as I looked closer at the tiny sleeping thing, I realized it was no cat.

I got off the ground; my expression was not exactly happy. My mom's grin had returned in full force. "Mom! Dad! What is that?" The confusion, along with the stress, went unnoticed by my dad as he answered me.

“It’s a Genet, Owen! Isn’t she cute?” He seemed to forget the anger and was just as giddy as my mom. I was absolutely lost; never in my entire existence had I heard of a genet. And now my parents took one home to me?

Don’t get me wrong, the little being was cute. Most likely a baby, but I had no want for her. “What the hell? Why can’t you guys just get me a normal animal like regular parents?” I had screamed at them.

At the moment, it seemed an innovative idea, the emotions so overwhelming I had to yell. But I should have known better. My dad sent me to my room, his head going slightly red in anger. I was told to take the ‘genet’ with me.

I grabbed the cage and stomped up the stairs; I would not call my handling of the pen incredibly gentle either. I had sat my butt on the bed, putting the cage with the creature right beside me.

I heard a noise then, faint but there. It sounded like a cry, too high pitched to be a human. I opened the little door to the cage and looked at the little thing. It was curled against the back of the cell.

Its big brown eyes watched me with extreme caution, warning me that if I got any closer, she would not be happy. She was so tiny, though, like some kind of spotted baby ferret.

“You are a pretty girl, aren't you?” I said it softly, my anger having subsided. My attention was focused on her now. Never then did I think I would ever appreciate her.

She was just some weird thing that my parents dragged home. But she became my best friend. I had named her Ferna as she had a strange fascination with the plant. Throughout my whole life, she was there.

When I cried, when I had fights with my parents, when I got extra lonely. She did not start that connected to me, but a bond formed between us over the years. She was playful, stubborn, and independent.

She was my best friend, and when I graduated from high school, she was there. I met my first love, and she was there. Watching me like a disapproving mother, her spots always beautiful and her brown eyes ever so piercing.

She helped me through my first break up and then was there to make me happy again. My parents took care of her when I was too poor too; she did not deserve anything but the best.

When I was twenty-three years old, so long ago. Ferna fell sick; it was so noticeable though she tried to hide it. Her eyes were dull, and her fur was bland. The one vet we had to care for her told me she was on her last legs.

So, I traveled all the way to New York. My old car barely able to make the drive; I did not make one stop. A whole day and a full night was spent on that road, the sun rising as I approached the city.

The vet told me the same thing; she was leaving me too soon. I spent the rest of her life by her side; she was blissfully aware of how close she was to her end.

When she was happy, she always snuggled up to me. And right before her spirit faded away, she snuggled up to me for her last sleep. She did not wake up again, but I knew she loved me. And I traveled to the woods by our house when it came time to bury her.

I promised her I would be my best self and I would always remember her. I write this at forty years old, my hair thinning and the aches and pains just starting. I still miss her, but she taught me things.

I have a family of my own now, a son so much like me. I’m not like my parents so maybe not a genet for his thirteenth birthday. But a dog of some sort would do nicely, a sweet little puppy.

He will most likely be unappreciative, but maybe one day he’ll be sitting here like me. Remembering his sweet little creature and hoping in whatever afterlife there is for pets, she is having the best possible time.