Lions and Tigers and Bears
I am not, and have never been, what you would call an "animal person." The late Patches and Hallie Sue Pigglesworth were as close to having a pet as I have ever come, and really, both guinea pigs lived quite happily in my sister's room. It's not that I wish harm upon animals, or believe that they should be used only for testing shampoo, that is not the case at all. I simply am not comfortable around them, and I don't enjoy being slobbered on by a dog having a cat rub its white fur all over my black pants. My apologies to all of you animal lovers out there.
I've been told by a number of people that my tendency to dislike animals is quite inconsistent with the rest of my personality. I somewhat agree with this, and have in fact been trying to figure it out myself. I believe it may stem back to an incident that occurred at the young age of 14 months old. Much as I loved to talk, even at that early age, I loved my pacifier even more. My parents thought it was time for this habit to go, and informed me that once my last "passa" was gone, they would buy me no more. It turned out that the ultimate demise of passa was my grandmother's jealous dog, Mac, and I've been told that I have never been fond of animals since then. Hmm.
Anyway, the point of all this is not to rant against animals, but instead to raise the curious issue of why it seems that animals are slowly taking over my life, or at least, all my places of work! It started out in a small way, to be sure, but if I am not careful, I'm afraid that my next place of employment will be the Como Zoo. First, the kids that I took care of for three summers in a row had one dog. I wasn't fond of it, but I wasn't really responsible for it, and little old Pokey and I stayed out of each other's ways quite well. Then, the next summer, they sprung the news on me that they were getting a puppy. (Oh boy!) Well, puppies are much more difficult to avoid, and this particular one seemed to be quite a little escape artist. Anytime Lucy scampered out the door, the kids were quick to tell me that I was the one who needed to run after her. Although I tried protesting that I didn't actually want the dog to come back, I also didn't want to have to explain a lost canine to their parents. Needless to say, it was I who could be seen chasing Lucy around the neighborhood every time the UPS man delivered a package.
Next, I got my job at Sunrise. Sunrise was home to Romeo, the largest cat I had ever seen, Ginger, a cute but overfed golden retriever, and Mickey, a basset hound with quite possibly the most annoying bark in the world. I was responsible for feeding the dogs, letting them out, and occasionally cleaning up after them when they decided that the living room was a much more prudent place to take care of business than the great outdoors. I also chased them around the neighborhood a fair number of times. I always said that the animals caused me far more stress than any of the people who lived there!
My current job has taken it up yet another notch! I now have fish to feed, an entire aviary's worth of birds to take care of, and two cats to clean up after. (For the record, I am terrified of birds, but I've gotten the opening up the cage, throwing the food in, and locking the door back up again down to a science.) This morning, it came to my attention that one of the cats was acting really strange. Another member of the staff took the darn thing to the vet, and sure enough, Rusty the Cat has a bladder infection. Guess who is responsible for giving the cat precisely one and a half pills wrapped up in a salmon-flavored pill pocket twice every day for the next three weeks? That's right, it's yours truly! (I sincerely hope that cats are not protected under HIPAA rules, because if they are, I am in clear violation! :-)) What's next, a therapeutic llama that I have to take home with me each night? Good grief.
I have always (somewhat jokingly) said that all I ever wanted in a man was a Christian musician without a dog. At this point, I am almost certain that whomever I fall in love with will have not one dog, but six; and he will probably insist that they all sleep on the bed while I sleep on the floor on a blow-up air mattress. Then, when the whole lot of them wakes up wanting to go out at 4:12 am, I will have to take them out, since I'm the one whose face they will be jumping on. I'm certain all these pets at work are just a foretaste of the feast to come. However I'm still drawing the line at birds, ferrets, lizards, or tarantulas! Absolutely. I'm NOT budging on that one. :-)
I've been told by a number of people that my tendency to dislike animals is quite inconsistent with the rest of my personality. I somewhat agree with this, and have in fact been trying to figure it out myself. I believe it may stem back to an incident that occurred at the young age of 14 months old. Much as I loved to talk, even at that early age, I loved my pacifier even more. My parents thought it was time for this habit to go, and informed me that once my last "passa" was gone, they would buy me no more. It turned out that the ultimate demise of passa was my grandmother's jealous dog, Mac, and I've been told that I have never been fond of animals since then. Hmm.
Anyway, the point of all this is not to rant against animals, but instead to raise the curious issue of why it seems that animals are slowly taking over my life, or at least, all my places of work! It started out in a small way, to be sure, but if I am not careful, I'm afraid that my next place of employment will be the Como Zoo. First, the kids that I took care of for three summers in a row had one dog. I wasn't fond of it, but I wasn't really responsible for it, and little old Pokey and I stayed out of each other's ways quite well. Then, the next summer, they sprung the news on me that they were getting a puppy. (Oh boy!) Well, puppies are much more difficult to avoid, and this particular one seemed to be quite a little escape artist. Anytime Lucy scampered out the door, the kids were quick to tell me that I was the one who needed to run after her. Although I tried protesting that I didn't actually want the dog to come back, I also didn't want to have to explain a lost canine to their parents. Needless to say, it was I who could be seen chasing Lucy around the neighborhood every time the UPS man delivered a package.
Next, I got my job at Sunrise. Sunrise was home to Romeo, the largest cat I had ever seen, Ginger, a cute but overfed golden retriever, and Mickey, a basset hound with quite possibly the most annoying bark in the world. I was responsible for feeding the dogs, letting them out, and occasionally cleaning up after them when they decided that the living room was a much more prudent place to take care of business than the great outdoors. I also chased them around the neighborhood a fair number of times. I always said that the animals caused me far more stress than any of the people who lived there!
My current job has taken it up yet another notch! I now have fish to feed, an entire aviary's worth of birds to take care of, and two cats to clean up after. (For the record, I am terrified of birds, but I've gotten the opening up the cage, throwing the food in, and locking the door back up again down to a science.) This morning, it came to my attention that one of the cats was acting really strange. Another member of the staff took the darn thing to the vet, and sure enough, Rusty the Cat has a bladder infection. Guess who is responsible for giving the cat precisely one and a half pills wrapped up in a salmon-flavored pill pocket twice every day for the next three weeks? That's right, it's yours truly! (I sincerely hope that cats are not protected under HIPAA rules, because if they are, I am in clear violation! :-)) What's next, a therapeutic llama that I have to take home with me each night? Good grief.
I have always (somewhat jokingly) said that all I ever wanted in a man was a Christian musician without a dog. At this point, I am almost certain that whomever I fall in love with will have not one dog, but six; and he will probably insist that they all sleep on the bed while I sleep on the floor on a blow-up air mattress. Then, when the whole lot of them wakes up wanting to go out at 4:12 am, I will have to take them out, since I'm the one whose face they will be jumping on. I'm certain all these pets at work are just a foretaste of the feast to come. However I'm still drawing the line at birds, ferrets, lizards, or tarantulas! Absolutely. I'm NOT budging on that one. :-)
posted by Erinn @ 7:23 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home