My mom is not a "pet" person. When I was a little girl, I wanted to be a vet. I wanted a farm with horses, a ridiculous number of cats, and plenty of dogs. Because I was a kid and impractical, my list of wanted pets also included monkeys and maybe a tiger. What I got were worms.Yup. I would dig up worms, name them, and keep them in pots of dirt on the patio. I would BEG for a cat instead. My mother told me, "When you're a grown-up, you can have a hundred pets if you want. But this is my house. No cats."
Well, grow up I did. Four kids . . . hopefully more. A crazy, busy house. And LOTS of pets. I have three dogs: Dreamer (in the picture), Chip (and overweight, utterly disobedient corgi), and Cosmo (Dreamer's brother). We also have a cockatoo (very noisy, says "I love you" when I yell at her to be quiet). A lovebird (constantly loose as the baby--age two--loves the bird). A beta fish named Azure. And . . . a python. Now, Lydia the python is my LEAST favorite pet, but my older son loves her. There has been a tremendous amount of angst on my part over Lydia, because she eats small rats once a month (and I am a Buddhist and don't eat meat and most certainly feel horrible condemning little rats to the execution chamber). However, I try to be tolerant of Lydia and do indeed agree she is beautiful when she suns herself on her rock.
Now my house is as chaotic as they come. And even though I have a beautiful view of the creek out back and a big back yard, my dream is to go more rural in a couple of years and get those horses--or buy one to ride this year as there are a couple of horse farms nearby. And somewhere along the line, I gave up any hope or thought of having a quiet house, an orderly house, a house where I can write in peace, classical music drifting from the stereo. More likely there are birds squawking, dogs barking, violins playing (oldest daughter is a musician), horns blaring (son plays horn), drums beating (younger daughter plays drums), and one very talkative 2-year-old begging me to come play trucks and trains with him. When my mother visits, I am sure she has a cow. But she's used to me by now. And if she ever comments about the chaos, I do tell her, "You always said when I grew up, I could have as many pets as I wanted."
How about you? Does your childhood influence the pets you now have or want to have someday?
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