I know it sounds nuts, but I have never sought a dog. They've come to me in one fashion or another. Not quite sure how it happens, but about the time my dogs reach the upper limits of their lifespan, around fourteen or older, some how another pup finds its way to my doorstep. However, I am not really limited to dogs, although I confess they're my favorites, and the one pet I don't believe I could ever live without.
Yet I love all my pets a great deal. Quite simply, life without pets is quite alien to me. They remind of all that is good in the world. They have patience and understanding as humans don't seem to manage. And the best things about pets, by making just a small bit of effort a person will find themselves paid back with the greatest reward of all -- unconditional love.
If only we took a little more time and effort to emulate the animals who entrust their lives to us humans, we might all learn how to be better ourselves. We might find contentment through much simpler means. We could truly understand the concept of forgiveness. Perhaps we would discover acceptance and how to get along with others, even when they are completely different than us.
I think the thing that amazes me the most about animals is how they keep giving us humans a second chance. Even when we throw the worst at them, they will continue to have faith in us and show it in their dedication. In truth, I have seen humans do horrible things to animals for no reason. Most of it stems simply from self-centeredness, in that they consider animals disposalable. If circumstances arise that require making a sacrifice to keep their pets, many people will figure its too much trouble and offer the pet for free to the first taker or drop them off at the nearby shelter.
Of course you have those incredibly selfish people who take their nastiness even further and don't even bother trying to find a safe place for their spare pets. Such has been the case of almost all my pets. They have been tossed out of cars, dropped over my fence, thrown out in a plastic bag, just to name of few methods of relieving themselves of the inconvenient pet. So it was the other day when I stopped at grocery store. A lady was frantically on the phone, staring at a box in grocery cart. Since she looked distressed, I asked if she needed help. She pointed into the box.
Okay, well, I don't need more pets. I have a bevy of pets. They cost money and that's one thing I don't have much of these days. Yet this poor woman was really getting frantic and no one around was the least bit interested in having very tiny kittens. I wasn't very interested in having another cat, I have plenty of those too. Right now three kind of live with me. Two are indoor cats, one thirteen, one three. And then there is the feral cat, part of a family I trapped many years ago, got them shots and had them fixed and then released them again. I hoped they would move in eventually, but alas, they decided living under the house was fine. One still survives, at eighteen years old. So two more just weren't in the plans right now.
What made the issue worse was that it was about 110 degrees outside. Needless to say, those poor little babies were reaching the limit of survival. I've never seen such little kittens panting so hard. So finally I told the woman I'd take two if she would take the other two. Relieved, she agreed. I snatched up the two short haired little ones; if I have to have more, I wanted low maintenance at least. And naturally that canceled the grocery shopping since I had to get the little ones home and cooled down.
I guess I should consider myself lucky, since obviously my dogs think the novelty of these little ones is pretty great. Of course they are so tiny right now, they're not overly annoying. Give it time, however, because cats also come with attitude issues. But best as I could guess, they were probably about three weeks old. They had only nursed before, so I had to teach them to eat. Once they got the hang of it though, they went after the canned food like two little piglets instead of kittens.
That's the pictures of latest additions above, two weeks after their arrival and now intent on exploring. The one, a calico, follows my brindle pup around like he's her mama. Since they have the same coloring and the dog's name is Turkey, I named the kitten Giblets. You know, Turkey and Giblets. The little gray monster, I call Carter after his ordeal and salvation. They will live out their lives here in the house of craziness and be perfectly content, I'm sure.
When I think of how those two and some of my other critters arrived to find a haven, I can't help but wonder why animals don't rise up and turn on us humans. We don't have a thing on them when it comes to quality; our pets have us beat to hell when it comes to living well. They know what true peace and love is, without all the falseness that we humans interject into the those simple traits. They keep my life in perspective by reminding me that loving will see us through just about anything and so I try to live up to the standards they set for me.
Since most my novels are about hope and faith against all odds, they will probably always have a little critter in there somewhere. Because even when all of us humans forget that all important component of success, our pets will gladly step up and fill the role for us.