Our Pets Come with a Price
Have you ever had a pet? Whether adopted, gifted, purchased, or found, our furry friends become a cherished part of the family. They are framed in the holiday photo and are welcome to the annual picnic. Besides companionship, they bring untold happiness to our lives.
Owning a pet has an emotional price tag. They require considerable time, energy, care, and love. Our pets have a shorter life span than our own, so their time with us is limited. When they leave, our hearts break wide open.
As children, my sister and I begged my parents for a dog. But they held firm. I knew Mom and Dad grew up with family pets, so it bothered me that they would deny us the same joy. Mom didn’t want the hair, the mess, or the accidents. Dad worked long hours and didn't want to walk the puppy when he came home. I brooded over their selfishness, until I learned that none of it was true. Their childhood hearts had never fully healed from heartbreak all those years ago.
Little Queenie was my mom’s cocker spaniel. Living in a Brooklyn apartment, Queenie was carefully placed in a basket attached to the clothesline. She was rolled down to the backyard and hoisted back up when she was ready. Queenie was only five when she developed cancer and was euthanized a short time later. My young mom grieved for weeks on end. Then there was Pal, Dad’s beloved retriever. At eight years old, pint-sized Dad camped under the kitchen table, comforting his dying Pal. I still recall Dad’s welling eyes and the catch in his throat as he recounted the story to me years later.
Tabby was our first pet, adopted shortly after my husband and I married. He was the only feline I knew who would fetch. He zoomed after his fuzzy little ball when we tossed it across the room and returned it in record time. When Tabby suffered a debilitating stroke, I sent my husband to the vet alone, as I was unable to say goodbye. Even today, my husband carries the tender memory of stroking Tabby as he was put to rest.
Unlike my parents, we went on to have many more pets. Skeets was a skittish kitten and Carlos, a demonic Abyssinian, whose stay was short-lived. There was Daja, the fussy calico with a superiority complex, and Sebastian, our lion king of a Golden. When we welcomed Jada, the sweetest, goofiest retriever ever, we vaguely understood she might be our last. We enjoyed seventeen years with this loyal girl and many moments of calamity and joy. There was the ill-placed beef brisket she devoured on Hanukkah, the birthday cake she deftly swiped off the counter, and the hilarity of watching her chase down the backyard squirrels.
But as life went on, Jada slowed down. When walking became too painful for her, we knew it was time. It was dark and overcast the day Jada was put to rest. We felt even greater sadness as we understood the significance of her passing. Jada would be our last pet, and no puppy or kitten would take her place. We were retired, and travel and visits with our children and grandchildren were a priority. Leaving a pet kenneled for prolonged stays would not be fair.
Our pets are beloved members of our family and connect us to a certain period in our lives. The joy they bring overshadows the profound sadness we experience each time we say goodbye. They give us their unconditional love and create precious memories, which makes the heartache of losing them a little easier to bear.
Do you have special memories of your pets to share?
Bit by bit, that’s all she wrote…