Why Do We Love Our Disgusting Pets?
I have never owned a dog but I always enjoyed looking after my friend’s pooch Charlie. I found it faintly odd that I relished our walks in the park. Why would I want to pick up the poop of someone else’s dog? Especially when the lack of bins meant that I would have to nurse it for an hour or more. What sort of person thinks that it is fun to walk around with poo in their pocket? An animal lover of course!
There’s no logical explanation for our love of animals. Our pets cost us fortune, induce a world of heartache and crap on our floors. They have an uncanny knack of weeing somewhere incredibly inconvenient just two minutes before a potential buyer is coming to view the house. They wake us up at stupid o’clock because they want their breakfast and they eat our furniture. But we love them anyway!
Their cute faces beguile us and we just can’t resist them, despite the fact that behind that soppy grin there is an arch manipulator who knows exactly how to get what they want. We know that, of course, but we are weak.
My cat is particularly skilled in this regard. Usually aloof and just a little bit stroppy, he can switch on the cute factor at will. He will bite me because I have had the audacity to move two millimetres on the sofa in order to cure my dead leg. But the next minute, he is off my lap, rubbing his head all over my hands and giving me the big eyes treatment because he wants my fish finger lunch. Naturally, he always gets it.
Old Big Nose
Paolo is admittedly a cute looking cat but that isn’t really the issue. My old cat Oliver was frankly a rather ugly sort with an abnormally prominent nose. There really wasn’t anything attractive about his looks but his big personality was irresistible and not just to me. I was shocked to discover that virtually everyone in the neighbourhood knew his name and stopped to pet him if they met him in the street.
But then they didn’t have to clear up his mess when he pooped on the floor or dragged in the latest in a long line of corpses and deposited it in the kitchen. My friendly neighbours would have been blissfully unaware of his gastric illness which regularly induced hideous bouts of diarrhoea. They weren’t there when he barfed on my bed or when he left a dead and rather mangled blackbird in my TV cabinet. I didn’t discover that corpse until it started to stink the house out!
Those were the days!
Exploding Soft Furnishings?
Two of my cats once turned my living room into bomb a site. When I looked through the door, I thought that several of my feather cushions had exploded. There were thousands of feathers strewn across the floor but no birds. Go figure!
Pets disrupt our lives regularly and deliver mess and mayhem. They smell, they moult, they destroy our possessions, eat our food and then bite us when they don’t get what they want. They poo on the floor, embarrass us at the vet and smash our Christmas decorations. But we love them anyway. We wouldn’t tolerate this behaviour from other people but when it comes to our animals, just about anything is forgivable. Paolo take note, I said just about anything!