Sarah Vick

Contributing Writer

The following is a reflection piece from ESU student Sarah Vick, senior communication sciences and disorders major from Wapwallopen, Pa.

How could anyone deny the sweet, crust-ridden face of a stray kitten staring back at you from an old friend’s Facebook post? The caption read: “I found these cats on the side of the road this morning. I cannot keep them, so if anyone would like them, please message me.” There were two kittens, one black and one grey. The black kitten had short, scruffy hair like charcoal. The grey one had long, wispy fur that peeked out like smoke. I desperately wanted to help. But I lived in a shared room at East Stroudsburg University, where pets absolutely weren’t allowed.

At first, I told myself I had to respect the rules. That was the responsible thing to do, wasn’t it? Then, the second post came along: “I still haven’t found a home for these two! Please ask around, share, message me. They are free and I’d be willing to travel!” It wasn’t just tugging at my heartstrings anymore; it was testing my ethics. Was it wrong to disobey the rules for something positive? I wanted them to have a home, a place where they belong. Yet still, I knew having a cat in Hemlock was absolutely forbidden.

The rules were clearly posted all over ESU’s website: “Fish in aquariums, no larger than 10 gallons, are the only pets permitted in on-campus housing. Nonservice animals are not permitted in the residence halls, even for a short period of time. Requests for Emotional Support Animals should be addressed through OASIS.” (Residential Life & Housing Policies 2023–2024)

The rules were black and white, but the situation I was in wasn’t. Everyone faces moments where what’s expected and what feels right don’t line up perfectly. It’s not just about breaking rules. It’s about figuring out when our morals outweigh the importance of following them.

I tried to forget about them. Then, while passively scrolling, I saw the smaller black kitten had found a new home. Later, I clicked on her newest post regarding the grey kitten, “She is still available… Please ask around so I can give her a home.” I caved; I messaged her, “Do you still have her? I can take her.” Still at work, I shot my roommate a text. She immediately agreed; I could almost hear her excitement through the phone. That following weekend, Aidan, my boyfriend, came over, and we drove together to go meet our secret addition to the family.

When we arrived back at the dorm, we debated the best way to bring a forbidden kitten into a building. The dorm rules were clear. But people have a choice: to follow the rules or to make a decision that betters the life of another. This wasn’t just about sneaking in a cat. It was about my responsibility to care for another living creature when I had the resources to do so. We decided to hide her under Aidan’s jacket, which worked well enough, despite her repeatedly poking her head through the zipper opening, trying to meow. Yet, she couldn’t quite meow. It was more a squeak or a grungly chirp. A few heads turned, but not enough to take notice.

As the kitten settled in, we worked hard to keep her presence hidden. The only problem I ever had was her playing under the door to our room. As I scrambled to pull out my keycard and unlock the door, I looked down and saw a paw reaching through the small crack at the bottom. She swiped up against the frame, seemingly trying to play. Aside from that, she was well-behaved and completely obsessed with food. If she saw my roommate preparing something on the counter, she would stand below her and attempt to meow.

Oftentimes, we would cave in and give her a speck of food, only if it was appropriate for a cat, that is. As time went on, I had taken her to the vet, where they declared she had roundworms. Thankfully, she made a full recovery. She was in good health; she was happy, fed, and in a warm, loving home, or more accurately, dorm room.

For nearly a year, I hid her in my dorm room. I never got caught; I did, however, register her as an emotional support animal. It was the right thing to do. I was uncomfortable with continually breaking the rules every single day. It was a risk I was willing to take, but not a risk I had to continue taking. It took a long while.

I met with a therapist for a few months and eventually asked her to write me an emotional support animal letter to submit to OASIS, the accessibility program here at ESU. Thanks to this process, she is now legally allowed to stay on campus with me.

This experience made me realize that even though rules are necessary, they won’t always align with one’s personal ethics. Whether it’s bending a campus rule for a stray kitten or standing up for someone being treated unfairly, we all face moments when doing the right thing means questioning authority. I believe these moments define our character. Keeping Minerva was never about breaking rules. It was about recognizing how deeply my actions could affect another living being.

Sometimes, you have to decide what matters most to you: obeying the rules or staying true to your moral compass. I’ll never regret my decision to step in and bring her home. She’s my cat, my Minerva, and she was worth every risk.