To Have a Pet or Not Have a Pet? That is the Question.

                Yesterday Ryan got on a tangent about having a pet.  This came on the heels of his “first pet,” a grasshopper, dying.  The only reason he had that was it was crawling across my laptop while I was working.  I nearly screamed but then caught it in a plastic container so he could see it.  He wanted to keep it, but we didn’t feed it.  I know, I know.  I should have fed the grasshopper.

                Several days before he had asked, “Mom, if you HAD to have a pet, what would you want?”  I told him if I HAD to have one, I would probably want a small dog.  He turned that into mom wants a small dog.  However, we have had these discussions before.  You see, I don’t want a pet.  We’ve tried having pets.

                I had fish in college.  They were harmless, except when you had to clean the bowl.  I didn’t like that. 

                Then Kevin and I decided to adopt a cat when we moved to our first pastorate.  We had decided to put off having kids for a little while, so we adopted Rev. Ike to move into the parsonage with us.  (Yes, that was his name at the shelter.)  Not long after we adopted him, I got pregnant.  When Brandon came along, I didn’t want the cat anywhere near the baby.  I didn’t care if they were old wives tales, I wasn’t taking any chances.  I had to chase that cat everywhere trying to get it into the laundry room where it had food and toys and such.  But we decided that was no life for a cat, so we gave it to one of Kevin’s cousins.

                During our second pastorate, a vet attended our church and said he had a dog I should come see.  He said if he couldn’t find a home, it would have to take a walk over the rainbow bridge.  I looked, and I fell in love.  There were actually two, a brother and a sister.  That day they came home with us.  We named the girl Happy.  She was very happy to come home with me. (She even put her head on my shoulder as I drove her home.)  We named the boy Lucky because he was just lucky I took two dogs.  Then it began.  Not only did they sleep all day and bark all night, but they started digging holes.  Now even I know that dogs dig.  But these dogs were DIGGING!  I mentioned it to the vet, and he just said that’s what dogs do.  Then he came by the house.  Even he was surprised at the size of the holes in our backyard.  I told those silly dogs they were digging their own graves because they were deep enough for me to push them in and cover them up.  So the dogs had to go. 

                We did fish again for a little while.  I don’t think any of us were overly crazy about them, though.

                Now we fast forward to several years later.  Ryan wants a pet.  And he wants one now!  In fact, we had to finally tell him to not mention the word pet or animal again yesterday.  He was over the top!

                So what do we do?  Neither Kevin nor I really want an inside pet.  Our yard isn’t huge, but we do have a small garden, so we don’t want something that’s going to dig it up.  Does every kid NEED a pet?  Are we denying him something that will send him to therapy in future years?  Or is this just another tangent of a seven-year-old?

                What do you think? 

                P.S. Before you start making suggestions about exotic things or birds or gerbils, the answer is no.  J