Critters

I don’t like animals in the house. Not the kind that shed, have accidents, use furniture for scratching posts, or leave various presents around. I’m also not a big fan of wet noses on bare legs, and sniffing of... *ahem*... nether regions (seriously. Go’way, dog).  In some circles that makes me a very, very bad person, and I have learned to be okay with that. You pet lovers out there, I AM NOT JUDGING YOU! You do you, with or without the hair balls. You can love on your critters ALL DAY LONG. But I probably won’t. 

It’s not what you think.  Pets look at you longingly, desperately, wanting attention. NEEEEEEDING you.  My kids think I hate house pets, but it’s just that there are so many living creatures (the two legged kind) that need me, I can’t have an animal in my life that gives me that mournful, disappointed look.  Not one more living thing to worry about. I already spontaneously generate guilt over the tiniest of things in this life.  Can #6 plastic be recycled or will it just end up in the landfill anyway?  How much spring mix has turned to compost in my fridge this month? Are my porch lights disturbing the flight patterns of migratory water fowl?

Then, there’s the actual important stuff.  Did each kid get my individual attention today?   Have I shown my husband he’s important me?  HAVE I DONE ANY GOOD IN THE WORLD TODAY? (You want guilt, look up the lyrics to that one on a day you feel like litterbox fodder). 

In the past, we have had the “wag-my-tail, take-me-for-a-walk” kind of pets.  I fretted.  Is he sick?  Is he lonely if we leave him for several hours? And later, watching him die was unbearable.  Frankly, darlings, it was too much, what with all the small humans with stubbed toes and ear infections running about the place, demanding medical care and food and whatnot. 

I feel the emotional pain of others pretty strongly, and even feel physical pangs when people I care about are in pain.  When my boys got their wisdom teeth out, and when Ethan badly broke his collar bone, my chest hurt just to look at them. Shuddering, heartsick pain.  I feel it with friends, and sometimes even strangers. Pain for their pain. 

It can be the same with animals.  Just the other day, when we went to tend to a friend’s horses, one of the horses was lame and in a great deal of pain. I could feel it so strongly that the horse, who had on previous visits been very calm with me, began literally pushing me around with his head. He was confused by what he was feeling from me, and his owner had to step in and help me. 

Dude, I signed up for that when I had my babies. Six contracts for periodic-but-guaranteed heart wrenching grief.  Not for little things like skinned knees or bonked noggins (I have superglued my share of split chins and lanced a few boils in my tenure), but for the serious stuff, you bet your tintype, sister, I feeeeeeeel it. 

I just don’t need the ’tude of a stuck-up feline on top of all that.  This is what I can handle:

Lizards. And fish.  In big glass boxes.  Things that can’t just walk up to you and say, “Hey, lady, feed me,” or  “Snuggle me, woman. Now”.   None of that crazy-happy, frantic tail wagging, or apathetic “talk to the cat-butt” attitude, please and thank you.  And no more hamsters, people!  They are the dollar-store toy of the pet world. They don’t live long, but the pain for their heartbroken little owner lasts ages. Poor little Tessa grieved for months and months over a lost hamster. His tiny grave in a flowerpot came with us when we moved.  We just planted fresh pansies over him yesterday. 

No ma’am. Not for me. Give me fish and lizards and maybe a snake once in a while. A lot of moms would think having reptiles in their house would be horrifying, and I won’t pretend we haven’t had a few escapees.  But bearded dragons don’t lick you, and fish don’t need hugs. They have few demands, and I’ve never once lost a minute of sleep wondering how they were “feeeeeeling”, which frees my heart up for the critters who do.  

Jackie is always sweetly encouraging me to like furry critters.  She does voices for her dogs saying hello to me on video as they bask in a sunny window with half closed eyes.  And Ellie says that she thinks someday I will. She says when I’m an old lady with no more little ones to tend to, I’ll get myself a little dog to love on and fuss over. 

Never say never.

But I’ll still have Guy, and if the past 25 years have been any indication,  I’m sure he’ll be lots hairier by then.