This is really more a product of my upbringing than any conscious decision I've made in my lifetime. I believe, firmly, that you end up owning the pets that your parents allowed you to have as a child. My parents were not having a dog (not that we were clamoring for one). We had a cat, but only because our next door neighbor was an elderly woman with a cat, who then passed away, and we ended up taking care of her cat and making him our family pet. These things happen.
But I digress.
We have a cat now. I am indifferent towards him. He's all right, and such, I mean, he's never called me an asshole or sabotaged my car like a James Bond villain. But I am a realist. I know that I am destined to outlive the cat, and when he moves on to Dead Bird and Mouse Island, I will remember him fondly and without sadness.
Having said that, I live in the suburbs. I see many people in my neighborhood who own dogs. And they love their dogs, boy, do they ever. I know other people who raise dogs in absence of human offspring. Also, your prerogative to do so. I mean, until you start breastfeeding them and all. Let's not make it all weird. But I cannot help but think as I watch my neighbors standing outside with their dogs. Standing, in front of someone's lawn, waiting for their dog to make.
So they can pick it up and take it home with them.
This is your life. Enjoy it. I'll stick to the litter box scooping and not having to spend five months a year standing outside in Arctic winds waiting for my dog to put a coil down.
