Oh, dear, it’s started again. My little angel Molly has once again begun her quarterly pet quest.
You’ve got to admire her tenacity. The subject comes up every few months, and regardless of how many times I say no, she will try, try again. She generally brings the subject up after spending time with other people’s pets, and last weekend we enjoyed a visit to some friends in Wales who share their house with an ageing Retriever, two Labradors and the sweetest little Dachshund.
And so, this week she’s after a dog. But remember, I’m a working, single Mum and frankly I can only just about manage to get myself and Molly through life, school and work on a daily basis. Adding another living being to the mix just wouldn’t be possible. I’d probably end up driving the dog to school and leaving Molly at home with a bowl full of Winalot.
What I love about her pet quest though is how she’ll start with the desire for a dog, and then move down through the ranks to other animals that she feels she may be able to convince me about. In the past I’ve said no to a cat (I’m allergic), a rabbit (we have a communal garden), a guinea pig (they smell), a hamster (they remind me of rats) and fish (couldn’t think of a good excuse for them).
Now you’re probably thinking I’m a hateful, non-animal loving, cruel mother. But you’re wrong. I love animals, especially the big ones. It’s the smaller ones that seem a bit of a cop-out to me. I was lucky enough as a child to have a cat (before my allergy took hold), then a wonderful dog who lived for almost two decades, and a lovely old pony who I adored more than life itself (until I discovered boys and lost interest). It’s just the small ones that don’t really do it for me. The smell, the sawdust and their toilet habits are really not overly appealing to a clean freak with OCD tendencies.
And I do talk from experience, having also had some smaller creatures as I grew up. Sadly my experiences weren’t good ones. For example, for some reason my parents once decided to buy some suicidal terrapins. Of course, they didn’t know they were suicidal when they bought them, but on a daily basis my mother would walk into the kitchen to find another one had climbed out of its tank and thrown itself, lemming-like, off the side of the table, and was lying limp and lifeless on the lino. We also had a hamster for a short while, but the least said about that the better. Suffice to say, I didn’t know cats could be so clever at unpicking locks.
A lot of people buy pets (big or small) for their children because apparently it’s good for teaching a child how to care for another living thing. And I really do understand that reasoning. Except I know what usually happens, it’s not the child who ends up doing the caring, it’s the parent. And not only the caring, but the cleaning, feeding, watering and bathing. And I don’t need any more practice at any of that.
So, I think you’ve gathered by now that I’m not going to be getting Molly a pet any time soon. But maybe in a few years when she’s old enough to help out (and I’m not so neurotic) I might do it. But it certainly won’t be anything fishy or any form of rodent. It also won’t be a cat because frankly, I just don’t get cats, they just think humans are warm-blooded furniture.
No, if I ever give in to the pet quest it will have to be a dog. Dogs jump with joy when you come home, they sit with their head on your lap staring longingly at you, they love you unconditionally. The fact is, all they’re really saying with all that attention is ‘feed me’, but I’m as happy as the next to be misled. Dogs give us affection and loyalty that other animals (including some humans) don’t. But until I’m ready to invite another living being into our home, I’m afraid Molly and I are going to have to manage without man’s best friend, and make do with each other instead.
NOTE TO SELF: A dog can teach a child loyalty, perseverance and caring skills. But can it teach them to earn enough money to pay the vets bills?
