Thursday, November 10, 2011
My sister's bunny died the other day. Most of us were surprised to hear that the bunny had been alive up to that point as it just sat in a cage for the past 9 years and didn't say much.
It reminded me of how I used to love having a pet when I was younger. But the bad thing about pets - they die. Frequently.
My first pet was a cat named Melissa (don't you love when animals have human names?) I loved her so much that I started to believe she was taking on humanistic qualities. I even thought her face looked more human than cat. I know, weird. I had her for several years until one day she just disappeared. I don't know which is worse: seeing your pet dead so you have closure or waiting around for 5 plus years thinking they'll some day show up. Sad.
So then I moved on to one of earth's most exciting creatures - the turtle. I think his name was Mickey (the name game is not my forte). I had him for a few weeks before he entered hibernation. Trouble was he never came out of his hibernation. Biggest waste of $12 ever.
Then I had a lizard. One day I thought he was probably getting tired of eating his regular old food, so I cut up some hot dogs and put them in his bucket. I was a very thoughtful child, obviously. The lizard didn't eat the hot dog and so they made his bucket smell, well, hot-doggy. I took the hot dogs out, sprayed a generous amount of potpourri into his bucket, and left for a few hours. When I came back, much to my surprise, the old lizard was dead.
I decided to go back to having mammals and got a rabbit. Thumper (creative, right?). The bunny was cute and everything a bunny should be (which is, as far as I can tell, nothing but a ball of nerves). My family was going out of town so I asked my friend (who shall remain nameless) to watch my bunny while we were gone. My friend also had bunnies so she took Thumper to her house and put her in one of their cages. Well, Thumper tried to escape the cage but only managed to break her back. Guess what happens to little bunnies who break their backs? That's right. A good ol' dose of euthanasia.
While I was at the vets office to take my bunny in to be slaughtered they kindly offered me a mutt of a puppy. He became known as Gilbert (after Anne of Green Gables, of course). Gilbert was your typical mutt. Dumb. We had him for several years. Towards the end he got sick and his fate fell the same way as Thumpers (minus the broken back).
Gilbert was the last pet I had as a child. Now as an adult I've discovered something: I don't like having pets all that much.