I bought my son a fish today. Granted, he's not remotely close to an age where he could be responsible for a pet, but it's shiny and moves around a lot. Those things he can appreciate now. Plus I miss having another living thing to care for. Lots of people don't like pets, because they are a lot of work and expensive. It really depends on the pet, but overall I think the work is worth it. Living things make me happy--it's also why I buy "lucky" bamboo for my apartment. I need something green to look at during these long, grey winter months.
During my childhood years, we had many pets. It all started when a family in the ward bought their little boys a rabbit for Christmas. What the pet store didn't tell them (and genuinely might not have known) is that this rabbit was pregnant. Soon after, the family had a whole litter of little bunnies hopping around. Naturally, they gave one to us. He was a patchy brown color mixed with grey and a light spot on his nose. My sister and I gave him the sophisticated name of "Smoky." He was one of the biggest breeds around, and taught me a few things about life.
Not too long after we got Smoky, my mom decided to buy a rabbit for her parents. She bought them a little dwarf bunny named Peanut. But my grandmother wanted nothing to do with it. Instead, Peanut came to live with us. We kept her in a separate cage; that didn't deter Smoky for long. We came out to the backyard one morning to discover Smoky had knocked over his cage, escaped, hopped to the other end of the patio, knocked over Peanut's cage, and then he helped her escape as well. My parents never had to explain "the birds and the bees" to me after that.
Shortly after that we were inundated with bunnies and everything that means. We even had a small warren on the side of the house, dug by Smoky and family. Sometimes my sister and I helped excavate new dens for the rabbits, or we would just dig random holes in the yard for fun. I guess we thought we were part rabbit too or something.
One summer day we decided to make our biggest hole yet--our goal was to make it big enough for all three of us (a neighbor kid included) to swim around in, after we filled it up with hose water. We didn't get far. The hole was maybe one foot across and a foot and a half deep before we lost interest. After that it became the hole where we dumped all the rabbit poop. I really can't follow the line of reasoning there; we were kids, what can I say? But until our dad landscaped the backyard, that particular patch of grass was the greenest patch I have ever seen.
After the rabbits, some kittens found us. My mom was in the garage, cleaning, when she heard some mewing. She pulled some boxes out and discovered a whole litter of kittens. The mother cat freaked out and ran away, never to return. My mother is a very compassionate person, so despite our cat allergies, we bottle-fed these tiny felines. My sister and I came up with some very creative names: Snowflake, Siren, Blackie, Vanilla, and Mushroom. Some ran away, others were adopted by friends, and I'm not sure what happened to the rest.
Since the rabbits and cats, we have had two cockatiels, a goldfish that lived for nine years (get this: his name was Swimmy), a couple hamsters and a guinea pig named Cappy. This was short for capybara, since guinea pigs look like miniature versions of their large cousins. We never had any reptiles, insects or dogs for pets, though, except for Rascal, but he was adopted after I had moved out.
During all this pet ownership, my sister and I had to care for these pets, feeding them, making sure they had enough water and clean cages. It taught us to care for something other than ourselves, and that hard work is worth it. Cleaning cages is gross, but if it means I get to pet my soft bunny and watch him hop around longer--see him enjoy his life--I will do it. I also can't eat my own food now without first checking my pet's food level.
So now I am continuing the pet ownership tradition. Since living on my own I have had three betta fish, one guinea pig, and now one goldfish. The betta died, as most do after two or three years, and I had to give the guinea pig away (his name was Piggie--this actually IS creative, since Piggie was short for "Jabba the Pig"). Eventually I would like to have a dog of my own, a Shiba Inu or a Siberian Husky, but for now I will settle for a pretty, active fish.
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