Article by Tacy Brown | Owl Staff
Betsy is in her element, exploring the trails around Tacy’s childhood cabin in Street, MD.
When I was seven years old, my father came up with a “check” system to help motivate me to do chores. If I reached fifty checks then I could buy a new outfit.
I had wanted a kitten for as long as I could remember. My family’s home already had a few pets, but I really wanted a pet of my own. I asked my father, “How many checks would I need for my own cat?”
He laughed and said, “one thousand.”
I knew then and there that this was my opportunity to show my parents I was responsible enough to have my own pet.
A little under a year later, I filled pages and pages of paper with one thousand handwritten check. I knew exactly what type of kitten I was looking for: an orange female. However, I did not realize how rare it is to find orange females. Although, my mom coordinated a couple meetings with friendly male orange kittens, I still knew I wanted a girl.
Finally, my mom found a post online about a female orange kitten that needed a home. Even though she was found in troubling circumstances, she was still extremely sweet. She was named Hershey because she always gave kisses. The kitten was found alone in a construction site at only two and a half weeks old and taken to a rescue in Pennsylvania.
I immediately knew she was the one, but I had a better name in mind.
“I already knew this cat was going to grow up with me, so Betsy seemed like the perfect name.”
My name comes from the Betsy-Tacy book series. My mom read these books growing up and was always drawn to the name Tacy. In the series, Betsy and Tacy are best friends. I already knew this cat was going to grow up with me, so Betsy seemed like the perfect name.
The Betsy-Tacy series by Maud Hart Lovelace was a favorite in Tacy’s family, passed down from multiple generations.
Betsy grew up with me through everything. She was there when my little brother was born and later when we shared a room. She was there when my parents got divorced. She was there when I moved to my new downstairs bedroom. She was there when I left my childhood home and moved into a two-bedroom apartment with my older cousin.
Moving her into my apartment far away from the home she had grown up in made me nervous at first.
I was not sure how she would react in a smaller space when she was so used to her outdoor freedom and endless stimulation. At the time of the move she was eleven, so she was already less active than in her younger days. I was also worried of the culture shock it would possibly cause for her since she was an outdoor cat the majority of her life.
To my surprise, she absolutely loved moving in with me. She became more friendly and relaxed than I had ever seen her before. She bonded with my friends for the first time, and would hang out all day with my girlfriend while I was at work.
“She became more friendly and relaxed than I had ever seen
her before.”
Over time, I would go back and forth between my girlfriend’s house and my apartment. While we were gone, my cousin Alanna would spend time with Betsy. Luckily, they got along great. Eventually it felt as if all three of us were her owners; it really does take a village like they say.
After about a year and a half, my girlfriend and I decided to live full-time at her parent’s house. It was convenient and made financial sense. The only thing holding me back was Betsy. I knew how much she had grown accustomed to apartment life, and my girlfriend’s family has a dog who I knew would not get along with Betsy.
Before Tacy moved to an apartment of her own, Betsy lived in a cabin with other cats.
My cousin offered to keep Betsy for a short period of time until we had saved enough to get our own apartment together. We would still visit her multiple times a week and buy her food, treats, litter, and everything else she needed. This way Betsy could stay somewhere familiar and safe without having to go through any drastic changes as an elderly cat.
One of my favorite recent memories of Betsy was taking her outside for a walk in her stroller. She had always loved the outdoors, but after moving into the apartment she became a fully indoor cat. One day, we took her for a walk in the apartment’s dog park, and she absolutely loved it. She rubbed all over the concrete and looked completely at peace; it was amazing to witness.
A few weeks ago, we stopped by to visit Betsy and her health had taken a dramatic turn. We had to rush her to the emergency room and found out very unfortunate news.
Betsy passed peacefully on August 24, 2026.
“I was able to grieve alongside people who understood what she meant to me and who had formed their own relationships with her.”
I was heartbroken for obvious reasons, but also because I wasn’t living with her during her final months. I think about how much more time I could have spent with her and all the moments we could have shared.
However, I also think about how grateful I am. I was lucky enough to have 13 years with Betsy. I had the privilege of bringing her with me into my apartment and watching her become happier, more relaxed, and more loved.
I am so grateful that she was loved not only by me, but by the people around me. I don’t think I could have handled her passing as well without the unlimited support of the people who loved her just as much as I did. I was able to grieve alongside people who understood what she meant to me and who had formed their own relationships with her.
Betsy loved to have one paw under her face while sleeping.
Betsy was more than just any cat. She was there through my childhood, my family changing, my first experiences living away from home, my relationships, and so many different stages of my life.
She will always be a part of my life. Now, I love when people ask the backstory of my name since it gives me an excuse to bring up Betsy.