My name is Nan Nelson, and I am an animal lover. Several years ago, my twin sister suggested I create the “autobiography” of a stray cat that turned up periodically at her back door for a meal and a nap under a shady tree. Fearful and unfriendly, this hardened veteran lived by his wits on the mean streets of Brooklyn, his tattered ears and matted fur evidence of a tough life.
When my sister’s husband came up with a title -- There Are No Kittens Here, a take-off on the title of a best-seller about urban poverty – I couldn’t resist, and put together what became the first of many “pet autobiographies.” Years later, that first book continues to draw attention, and countless pet owners who have seen it have requested something similar “written” by their beloved pets.
I’ve been an animal lover since I was a kid. I grew up in a small Connecticut town, one of five children and the only one who didn’t suffer from hay fever. My earliest memories include encouraging stray animals to follow me home, only to be reminded that nobody in the house could tolerate the dander; I had to settle for guppies and goldfish.
But one Christmas Eve when I was seven years old, my father arrived home in a snowstorm. Gently protected inside his overcoat was a tiny black kitten with white feet. For years, George delighted even the most allergic members of the household with his antics.
George was followed by Michael, a pedigreed beagle with that breed’s merry bark and stubborn resolve. Somehow, everybody survived the furry household, but decades later, I notice that none of my siblings is a pet owner.
I’m a writer (The Washington Post, Roll Call, The Gazette Newspapers, Exceptional Parent), an artist (large beach scenes in acrylics), and a lover of all things fin and furry. I live in Bethesda, Maryland, with my husband, Dick, daughter Annie, and Nick, the self-centered tabby we rescued from a shelter in 1994.
 Surrounded by smiling Golden Retrievers is my idea of Heaven on Earth.I am pictured on my right, and Liberty Run’s Princess Buttercup (Butters) on my left. |
