This is my story about pets.
I grew up with pets in the house, but I didn’t turn out to be a “pet person.” I sometimes wonder if it’s because I was born this way, because I experienced major loss in my early life, or because I haven’t witnessed a pet’s full life-cycle?
I will give you the breakdown of my pet story, and (if you wish) you can provide your insight in the comments.
Luki (Lucky) was our dog when we were little. She was like a horse to us. When my father passed, she was never the same and we couldn’t keep her. I was so little, I don’t remember her much.
Bluebell(?) and Lemondrop were our birds. I don’t remember what happened to them, but they were pretty.
Zacheus was a wee little dog who came into our lives. He liked to nip with his pokey teeth. I didn’t like that.
Coco and Buttercup were our guinea pigs. They had a baby named Patches. I think Patches and Buttercup had babies. A real Oedipus problem. I learned too much that year. In the end, “we didn’t clean the cage often enough,” they were “given away to a store that sold them to snake owners.”
I never got close to our other dogs. They were someone else’s pets. Despite how sweet they were, they got slobber and hair on me, and that isn’t my favorite thing ever.
The only dog I remember loving was a neighbor’s brown Yorkshire terrier that we found wandering on a neighborhood walk. I picked him up and named him Phillip and then had to return him to his owner. I held him for like 10 minutes, but loved him forever. Probably because I never had to pick up his little warm turds with a turned out Target bag. (God bless you, dog owners.)
I couldn’t have cats, which I’ll explain in another post.
Shortly after I got married, I brought home a turtle that made a lot of noise. We let it bask in the sun in the backyard and it disappeared.
Lastly – don’t know if you can really count this – we have a seasonal hummingbird nest in our yard. Occasionally I have to scare bigger birds away from the eggs.
If you have any thoughts about my petstory, please comment below!