My Fur-Covered Terrorist

And why love is not a good enough reason to own a pet

Photo by Jared Rice on Unsplash

At any given time the majority of my Instagram following is devoted to cats, dogs, hamsters, birds, and monkeys. Heck, I can’t even get through a movie about a dog without crying.

My grown children get a perverse pleasure out of telling people I don’t like animals but that’s not true. I am just not particularly fond of having animals in my home. When they were younger I always told them that I had enough messes to clean up with six children — who needed a pet?

In a typical therapeutic fashion, I blame my mother for my aversion. She is also a pet lover and throughout my life, she brought in various (and sometimes odd) animals.

When I was about six, it was a spider monkey she said was for me. BeeBee was a cute little fur-covered terrorist! Ever try to diaper change a baby with teeth?

I couldn’t even start the day safely. I would often wake up with a half-dozing monkey happily perched on my head. I was terrified trying to figure out how to get him off without losing a finger! Thus began my mixed feelings about loving animals and having pets.

Through the years it became a conundrum. We raised rabbits once. My mother let me choose one that I named Suzy. Then one evening she told me Suzy had been our dinner. I still have…