Dear GOD, what would we do without pets?
I realize some of you are not pet people. I don’t understand you – AT ALL – but I realize you exist, though it must be a pale, lifeless existence without something furry or hooved or winged to brighten it.
I suppose I should include “scaly” and “cold blooded” in there for you amphibian and snake people, but I don’t understand you either. I like small furry things alive and running around, not as live food for my pet. Gross!
I started as a dog person because we had two dogs when I was a child. Then my sister Karen became old enough to start bringing things home, like guinea pigs, hamsters, gerbils, rats, mice, bunnies, chickens (yes! in town!), horses (she boarded that one out on a ranch, thank god), more dogs, and finally cats.
Did I mention my sister is highly allergic to everything? I don’t remember her being so when we were younger. Maybe it was prolonged exposure to pet overload that did it. She’s fine now, though. She recently had the shots over a period of time and – poof! – no more allergies. I’m so happy for her. Now she has a indoor dog! And a husband with allergies. But hey, now we know there are shots for that.
The cats stuck. They clean themselves, don’t demand to be walked, tend to entertain themselves, and sleep 18 hours a day. What’s not to love? Here are my most recent companions:
That’s Tiger in the underwear drawer and Turvy pretending to ignore him but alert for the slightest indication of a stealth attack. Which will come, eventually. It always does.
I will always have pets. Requirement for a male companion: must love cats. Though there is room for a dog or two in my life.