Having pets is like having kids.....sort of
Ken and I had been married for less than a month.
"Can we have a pet? Puuuhhlllleeease?"
I am not one for whining (well, it depends on what it is about), but this time I went into full-whine mode. I had been living with pets all my life, and now I was expected to come home to an empty house every night, no padded paws running to greet me at the door? Uh-uh.
I slowly wore Ken down like an expensive leather shoe. He had his doubts, but he saw how radiant I became whenever I talked about a pet. I imagine he was probably just relieved I didn't get radiant like that when I talked about babies. After all, we were newlyweds. We'd said that we wanted to wait a few years to have children. A pet, therefore, didn't seem all that bad in this light.
I brought home a newly-spayed kitten, drunk and sleepy, five months after our wedding day. Odyssey, we named her, and odd she was. She was the most insanely hyper cat I'd ever been around.
She would tear back and forth through our small apartment, sending carpet pile flying. She would lie on one side, grab our den rug, and proceed to scoot all the way down it, biting as she went. She would wait till I climbed into bed to decide that my feet and arms moving under the sheets would be a fun thing to sink her paws into. I went out in public quite a few times with tell-tale scratches on my face.
Our parenting skills kicked into high gear from day one. First of all, there's the whole litter box training thing. Probably easier than potty training, but still no easy task. It also became apparent early on that we'd have to discipline her, and forcefully. We tried spanking, loud noises (pennies in a can), and even a water gun. All in all, a firm, loud voice command was what stuck. She still crouches, ears down, whenever Ken's voice gets "all parental" on her. She meows with a quiver, as if saying, "Okay, dad. I hear you. I'm sorry."
Like two parents, too, we stood anxiously by her side when she contracted a serious respiratory infection at 10 weeks old; she was very near death at one point. We prayed over her, cuddled her feverish little form, and hand-fed her yogurt, pureed foods, and antibiotics for seven days.
We used to joke with other people how cat-raising (or dog-raising) will prepare you, even if just a little bit, for child-raising. It teaches you how to assume an authoritarian stance when needed. It teaches you patience. You clean up yucky spills and messes. You deal with them on road trips when they're cranky and homesick. You lug them and all of their accessories to the vet. You have to remember to feed them, water them, love on them.
Please don't assume I am belittling being parents by comparing it to life with animals; I am not. I am just thankful that we had those 4-1/2 years with our two cats to, in some ways, prepare us for little Gardner. Not that we weren't responsible adults way back when....well, actually, we were a little immature at the beginning. We've learned so, so much about responsibility and duties. And I even lost a little bit of my gag reflex.
Being a parent is pure joy. Cats can't smile back; Gardner can, and oh, he does. Those big, blue eyes melt my heart and inspire me to become a better mom.
And I will be the one, too, who teaches him to love cats and dogs. :)
"Can we have a pet? Puuuhhlllleeease?"
I am not one for whining (well, it depends on what it is about), but this time I went into full-whine mode. I had been living with pets all my life, and now I was expected to come home to an empty house every night, no padded paws running to greet me at the door? Uh-uh.
I slowly wore Ken down like an expensive leather shoe. He had his doubts, but he saw how radiant I became whenever I talked about a pet. I imagine he was probably just relieved I didn't get radiant like that when I talked about babies. After all, we were newlyweds. We'd said that we wanted to wait a few years to have children. A pet, therefore, didn't seem all that bad in this light.
I brought home a newly-spayed kitten, drunk and sleepy, five months after our wedding day. Odyssey, we named her, and odd she was. She was the most insanely hyper cat I'd ever been around.
She would tear back and forth through our small apartment, sending carpet pile flying. She would lie on one side, grab our den rug, and proceed to scoot all the way down it, biting as she went. She would wait till I climbed into bed to decide that my feet and arms moving under the sheets would be a fun thing to sink her paws into. I went out in public quite a few times with tell-tale scratches on my face.
Our parenting skills kicked into high gear from day one. First of all, there's the whole litter box training thing. Probably easier than potty training, but still no easy task. It also became apparent early on that we'd have to discipline her, and forcefully. We tried spanking, loud noises (pennies in a can), and even a water gun. All in all, a firm, loud voice command was what stuck. She still crouches, ears down, whenever Ken's voice gets "all parental" on her. She meows with a quiver, as if saying, "Okay, dad. I hear you. I'm sorry."
Like two parents, too, we stood anxiously by her side when she contracted a serious respiratory infection at 10 weeks old; she was very near death at one point. We prayed over her, cuddled her feverish little form, and hand-fed her yogurt, pureed foods, and antibiotics for seven days.
We used to joke with other people how cat-raising (or dog-raising) will prepare you, even if just a little bit, for child-raising. It teaches you how to assume an authoritarian stance when needed. It teaches you patience. You clean up yucky spills and messes. You deal with them on road trips when they're cranky and homesick. You lug them and all of their accessories to the vet. You have to remember to feed them, water them, love on them.
Please don't assume I am belittling being parents by comparing it to life with animals; I am not. I am just thankful that we had those 4-1/2 years with our two cats to, in some ways, prepare us for little Gardner. Not that we weren't responsible adults way back when....well, actually, we were a little immature at the beginning. We've learned so, so much about responsibility and duties. And I even lost a little bit of my gag reflex.
Being a parent is pure joy. Cats can't smile back; Gardner can, and oh, he does. Those big, blue eyes melt my heart and inspire me to become a better mom.
And I will be the one, too, who teaches him to love cats and dogs. :)
Comments