I have always had pets in my life, an animal companion of some sort or another.
Even going back to before I was born, my parents got a dog, a female Boxer who they named Daisy Mae to practice their tender paternal ministrations on prior to having a human baby of their own. By the time I came into this world, Daisy was 2 years old. My parents were nervous about their newborn daughter being around such a large, rambunctious and daunting-looking dog, but Daisy treated me as if I were her own pup. The black and white photographs taken of me learning to crawl also show the snout and ear of her along side of me, as she was scooching her belly across the rug beside me, protectively.
Daisy Mae passed away when I was in my early teens. At the time, I was too wrapped up in the selfishness that is part of being a teenager. It is only now, with age, that I mourn, miss and am grateful for the companion that she was. My parents never got another dog. In future years, Mom became the proverbial “Cat Lady,” and I swear her address was passed along from one cat to another as many found their way into her home and heart.
When I moved out on my own, owning a cat seemed to be the thing to do to turn my apartment into a home. My first husband and I adopted his brother’s cat, Hemingway. Later, when he and I divorced, I got to keep the Tabby, whom I nicknamed Hemy.
When my daughter, Taylor was 2, I ended up with another cat named Fisher (who is circling my legs now) Fisher was named for Mel Fisher, who found the Atocha. (“Today is the day!”) Fisher was originally supposed to be a gift for someone else, but when the plans fell through I was instructed to return him to the cage at the vet’s from whence he came. I looked at him, all black fluff with big yellow eyes and knew I would keep him. Poor thing, Fish has always been a second class citizen in our home. When he came to live with us, Taylor was a toddler and would repeatedly smash his kitty nose into his food bowl exclaiming, “eat kitty, EAT!” And then came Lucky, my skittish, loyal Dalmatian.
Lucky decided I was his perfect owner when I was dating his foster Dad in 2000. I would leave my boyfriend’s (at the time) home, and Lucky would race out of the house and hop into the passenger seat, and look at me expectantly. The boyfriend would say, “well, seems like he wants to go with you…you want to keep him for a couple of nights?” After this scene was repeated several more times and after the eventual break-up (with the boyfriend, not the dog,) Lucky was mine for keeps. It was not an easy transition. Lucky was a growler and true to his breed, not a fan of children. Nonetheless, my daughter adored him unconditionally. I did everything short of tying a pork chop around her neck to foster a positive relationship between dog and daughter. But, despite all of my efforts, Taylor and Lucky were never close and instead maintained a distant yet respectful relationship.
Though Lucky has always seemed to be lawsuit waiting to happen, I have to say I have never had a more devoted and watchful companion. I do believe (given several break-ins around the neighborhood during a certain time-frame) that he has truly been my protector, especially during the years I was a single Mom. He and my (current) husband had to have a come-to-Jesus when Donnie first moved in to establish who was the alpha dog. Once the dust settled, Lucky was as happy if not more so to see Donnie than me to come home at the end of a work day. And, Donnie, being a true animal lover, has embraced Lucky as his own and has provided him with love cuddles and treats.
The only time that I have seen my husband cry was the day that we put Hemy down, a couple of years ago. Hemingway had been ailing for quite awhile. By this time, he was 20 years old. I had been in denial about the inevitable and it was my daughter who suggested that perhaps the time had come. My Tabby, Hemy was miserable, vomiting all the time and sluggish.
All three of us took him to the vet’s office. We were in the room when the shot to calm and sedate him was administered. Both Taylor and I were crying softly and quietly petting him. Then, I heard the most heart wrenching sound behind me – my animal loving husband, who could not shed a tear over people dying…but for a cat that he had a tenuous relationship with…was truly in mourning for the passing of our beloved cat.
Then came Minnie. I have always willingly mocked folks that cater to their small dogs. I snickered at them, the ones who carried their beloveds in the grocery store. I prejudiciously laughed out loud at the Bocahontases who pushed their diminutive pwessusses in buggies through the mall.
Then, after an ill-advised purchase of a Chihuahua puppy at a PET STORE (never do this – always adopt), I fell head over heels, completely, irrationally in love with a dog. I do believe that the firm “shutting the door on my fertility” had something to do with it…but, for whatever reason, I am now one of THEM. To wit, Minnie in her Buggy at the Renaissance Festival.


Minnie has had a huge effect on our lives. We hired a personal dog trainer for ten weeks when she first came to live with us. We got our vet on speed dial. She came on vacation with us (on a plane!) She has been my joy, my cuddles, my companion for the last two years. And yes, I imagine she is a baby substitute. (But she will never talk back to me or sass me!) After 2 years, Minnie is still the pleasant focus of our lives. She is fully housebroken, trots into her crate on demand and knows and responds to all basic commands. She curls up with me at night, nestling her head into the crook of my arm, and sighs…as though this is the position she has been waiting to be in for her entire life.
Taylor, for as much as she is pushing away from me, acts jealous about Minnie. It is almost as though she has a sibling competing for parental attention.
But yes, with Minnie, I have gotten to that irrational stage of love for my dog…I have become one of ‘those’ people that I used to mock and ridicule.
Though I may be a bit extreme, I would love to hear comments about the pets that you have had…..