I have something to confess that might be heresy.

I’m not a dog person.

While I’ve met several very amiable dogs, none of them have inspired in me the intense need that seeing a fat baby did (still does–but don’t tell my husband). Admittedly, puppies come close. I might even be temped if I didn’t know they got bigger.

Some of them even scare me. I still, seeing a large and strange dog while I’m out walking, have been known to cross to the far side of the road. My mom thinks some of this is due to the fact that my first encounter with a big dog was a Saint Bernard who, when I was 18 months old, bowled me over, stood on me, and licked my face. I think it might be due to the time in fifth grade when a stray dog got onto the playground at school and attacked another little girl, biting her on the head and face. (I know this is a rare incident, but it means I’m wary around strange dogs).

My not being a dog person hasn’t been much of an issue till now in my life: for the first part of our married life, we lived in rented spaces or other people’s houses (hi, mom and dad!). Even after we bought our own home, our kids were still very small. But now we’ve entered the stage of life where my kids are desperate for a pet–and not just any pet. They want a dog.

And I’m . . . reluctant. For now, I tell them that I’m still cleaning up accidents from one not-quite-potty-trained human and I don’t really want to deal with more accidents. I’m also fairly certain that any pet we get will mean more work for me at a time when I’m already stretched pretty thin and wide. I know it’s important to give my kids (the oldest is newly ten) opportunities for responsibility, but I’m not sure they’re ready for the responsibility of a living thing. (Though they did manage to remember to feed the goldfish that lasted an astonishing two months–most of the time).

It’s not that I’m opposed to animals, or even pets. (In theory). I’m just more of a bird person. (And as an adult, I prefer my birds in the wild). When I was eight or nine, I made a bird feeder out of a kleenex box and bread crumbs. In a stroke of genius, I drew a picture of myself and attached it to the make-shift feeder. My reasoning was: the birds will recognize my face (because of course the drawing looked exactly like me) and they won’t be scared of me and eventually they would let me hold them. Needless to say, the feeder failed me.

Eventually, I wore my mom down and she bought a pair of zebra finches that I loved desperately and wept when my mom accidentally released one while cleaning their cage (long story). Though in retrospect zebra finches are pretty terrible pets: they’re noisy, they’re messy, they’re not remotely cuddly or accessible. And my mom had to supervise all the cleaning and feeding.

I’m pretty sure we’re not ready for a dog. My three-year-old, though he adores the idea of dogs, is, in practice, usually reluctant to get within four feet of them. All three of my kids freak out when our neighbor’s dog is outside and they have to pass on the way to school–mostly because of her predilection to jump on people she likes.

But I’m gradually warming to the idea that we might be ready for something smaller.

So, hivemind, I’m asking in all earnestness: what are your favorite house animals? What pets do you think make good starter pets? (Especially if you’re looking for something that interacts with kids but doesn’t require a huge financial investment up front).

 

 


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