I have friends who swear off pets for many of those reasons and it does make sense. I couldn't have a pet when I was a seasonal worker, and I was able to go to New Zealand for six weeks/move across the country every six months/backpack anywhere in a national park/own clean vehicles.
But my heart. With one exception our animals are all rescues. One cat would have died without us feeding him with a bottle. We rescued one cat from a house that, I kid you not, had air literally blue from smoke. One of the dogs was taken from a hoarding situation. Someone else would have taken them--maybe.
|Ruby before the molt. She looks totally skinny now.|
I've also witnessed rescue animals adjusting to love for the first time. Our old dog is getting more and more cuddly with age, just like the last one did. It makes me think of people--once you have experienced a trauma, it takes forever to trust again. The animals give me hope.
|Callie! Fifteen and going strong.|
I don't know if I will always have pets. Now, while I am chained to working at home, it makes sense-I am there a lot of the time. If I get to retire, I plan to chase all the trails I can. Maybe I will want to be more footloose then. For now the pets fill up some empty spaces and make me happy. Plus, who would I talk to all day? Myself? Far better to talk to the pets. "Okay, Ruby, now we need to make a conference call."
Then there's the hardest part--pets don't live very long. Not nearly long enough. It breaks your heart when they leave you, even though you know they will. Every day with them, you live knowing that someday they won't be around. I also have friends who won't get any more pets because that pain was too hard to bear.
|Puffin as a kitten, rescued from certain death|