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Why have pets?
Two dogs, a hamster, nine butterflies, six river fish, two beetles, and a spider. That's enough.
My 6-year-old thinks not, and my husband's no help, just sitting there, grinning. It's me who limits the pet population in this house. And one day, Willow the dachshund played with Tommy the hamster and reduced the population by one. After considerable grief, my daughter realized the absence might mean space for one more pet. A kitten.
I recall our last three cats, pets of my older children now in college. Smudge regularly raked the couch; Oliver shredded my favorite sweaters; Orange Juice scaled the counter for Thanksgiving turkey. For those, and other reasons -- smelly litter, shedding fur, sharp claws -- we now have short-haired dogs who go outside. However, both of them are occasionally incontinent. They also bark at anything that moves, fifty yards away, outside, with the door closed. Willow is addicted to tennis balls and Daisy the mini greyhound does not smell like a flower.
My young daughter never knew these dogs as puppies, and the cats went to pet heaven before she was born. She's never had an animal she can grow up with and help it learn to behave. Our aging dogs seem more like aunt and uncle than malleable pups.
The research says that raising pets teaches children responsibility, empathy, loyalty. Of course, I want to help my child develop these important character traits. But, everybody knows it's Mom who ends up with the clean up. I'm the one who'll be home with this cat long after the little owner has left for college. So I'm the one who has to say yes. Even my pet-loving husband agrees. Anyway, at least I get to decide what kind of cat we get, and exert some influence over its name. How about Bug, Brat, Bandit, or Band-aid? All will probably apply.
What kind of cat? We've buried ourselves in library books about different breeds, and now my child can recite the characteristics of a dozen varieties. She wants a Persian. I veto; it must have short hair. A Sphynx? No way, must have some hair. Siamese? Maybe, they're pretty and loyal, but loud. I pick an Abyssinian, because it has short hair, a quiet voice, energy, and affection. She concedes. Okay. Now to find a kitten. I locate breeders and nearly pass out at the pricetag, $400 and up. But price should be no issue for a family member. (Did I say that?)
Before a kitten comes home, we begin training the little human who's already here. "Cats are independent, Sweetie; it may not always want to sit on your lap, or go to bed when you do." And on and on …
One Friday night I spot an ad in the newspaper for Abyssinian kittens. The next afternoon we bring home a 12-week old, reddish-brownish male we immediately name Cinnamon Toast. Poor guy is so afraid to be away from his mummy; we take him to my daughter's room to postpone meeting the two dogs. However, the dogs have different intentions, and within an hour Willow introduces himself to the newcomer. Little Toast pops up, electrified -- fur straight out and sizzling.
A week passes. The dogs live downstairs and the kitten resides upstairs behind a high fortress gate. Twice a day my son (home from college) and I bring the three together, on leashes, so they can smell each other, safely. Daisy and Toast seem to want peace between kingdoms, but Willow plunges forward, a four-legged knight bent on battle.
Upstairs, the kitty rules. He dashes from room to room testing beds, swatting curtains, leaping for ledges, rolling over for a rub and a cuddle. My daughter adores him. She brought his picture to school the first day, and today she brought a 5-inch scratch across her face. The kitty had climbed her to get to the windowsill.
No cat in your bedroom at night, I say after that. She cries while I watch the long scratch crinkle along her cheek. He'll be lonely, she pleads. I hug her, my kitten, the one I need to protect.
Every day, while my daughter is at school, I put Willow and Toast in kennels, facing one another. Talk it up guys, I say. And they do. Then they face each other on leashes to work some more on their relationship. It may take another week; it may take a month to get them to withdraw claws and paw a treaty. They better. My daughter needs to see that pets can learn to get along, like people. They better.
P. S. Linda Knapp wants to add that caring for pets can prepare couples for parenthood and help elders avoid loneliness.