Over in Marriage today I reflected on circumstances growing up that influenced my decision not to have children. Human ones at any rate. I’ve always had a pet or two, but I’ve treasured them as more than mere “pets.” Like many of you, my pets are my kin. Once they enter my house and heart, they become family.
But why is that okay? If I’m going to cherish them as my children, why not have real ones?
I think it’s because just as I was raised in an environment where kids were considered a burden, I was also raised in a family of animal-lovers.
But what if I hadn’t been?
A reader recently left a comment on an article I’d written and had almost forgotten about. It was called “Tabby, Murphy, and Mr. Meow: What If…?”. In it I reflected on what would have happened if I hadn’t made the choices I’d made when I brought each of my three marvelous furry miracles into my brood.
Now I have a new “what if” to contemplate. What if I had been raised in a family that considered both pets and children burdens?
It’s a chilling thought that makes me shudder. My pets bring me so much. I don’t even have the words to describe. I have words, of course. Comfort. Joy. Bliss. Laughter. Tenderness. Wonder. Gratitude. Loyalty. Devotion. Forgiveness. Inspiration. Love. But none of those words seem sufficient enough to truly express the welling that occurs deep in my chest and spreads with warm tendrils throughout every fiber of my being on a daily basis simply being in the presence of my three monkeys. I certainly know the word to describe how I’d feel if things were different: empty.
But contemplating all this has given me a new perspective on people I encounter who don’t like pets. Perhaps they were raised in an environment that didn’t tout the benefits and blessings of becoming in-tune with animals. Maybe they grew up with the notion pets are dirty, disease-ridden, and bad.
It’s helped me to find patience in my heart for people I formally was not willing to give it to, like my nemesis, the lawn guardian. Perhaps he’s a creature of circumstance just like I am, and he only knows what he was taught to begin with.
I’m grateful for many of the examples I had to learn from growing up, but when I look into Murphy, Mr. Meow, and Tabby’s eyes, hear their purrs and barks, stroke their fur, and feel them snuggled next to me, I am most thankful I was taught that animals are okay.
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