BEFRIENDING BETSY

Betsy Pauly was an animal lover who liked nothing more than to help stray creatures: “If there was a cat or dog that appeared to be on its own, she would round it up and get it rehabbed, get it socialized, and then have it adopted.” When Betsy died, she left behind a document recounting her adventures; her husband, Chips, reached out to Braaksma, a book coach and editor, with the manuscript. This work explores both Betsy’s writing and what that writing has meant to Braaksma. She explains that she felt a connection with Betsy, even though she herself is not particularly an animal person. This left her to wonder, “why did she appeal to me so much?” As Braaksma puts it, Betsy “had sass, and she had spunk, but she was far from perfect.” Betsy’s writing conveys what it was like rehabilitating strays and seeing that they went to good homes—she didn’t want to collect animals, she wanted to help them. And she wasn’t shy about her disgust regarding animal neglect and abuse. The reader learns things from Betsy, like how it can be difficult to place animals when they age beyond their kitten and puppy stages and turn “into teenaged Tasmanian devils who dig, claw, climb, bite, and break their way toward sedate adulthood.” The text also covers moments from Braaksma’s life, such as her realization of how little one can “control the cries, sounds, and discomfort of another living thing.” The dual perspectives make for a refreshing blend. Betsy does, however, like convoluted sentences—she writes of one cat, “Peter Pan, on the other paw, hemmed and hawed his way around us like a lost little black panther that took a wrong turn at the last watering hole.” Still, the reader comes away with an understanding of an unlikely bond.