Don’t get me wrong – I love animals, and the life many of them lead in the wild makes them admirable indeed – compared to the comforts of humans’ rather protected existences.
Domestic animals, such as pets, are a lot better off than wild animals, and they can, indeed, be man’s (and woman’s) best friends. (And vice versa, as well).
So, the feral cat my wife and I – along with a neighbour – have been caring for over 15 years – a tabby living in our nearby forest whom I suspect is female – is certainly remarkable in my book. She’s managed to avoid raccoons, mountain lions, coyotes and dogs and doesn’t seem the worse for wear when she shows up for her twice a day feeding with the most basic of expectations – just the dried kibbles that are far from luxurious as cat foods go. (In a weak moment, I feed her tuna.)
When my wife declared she wanted a dog (a pet I never had as a youngster), I recoiled at the thought because we are 73 (me) and 70 (her) and used to our footloose and fancy-free lifestyle since closing our B&B during the pandemic.
Despite the travel and other issues for us and other pre- or post-retirees, the adoption rate for dogs increased dramatically during the pandemic. People were lonely and often shut-in, as we all know.
A dog, unlike even a domestic cat, requires maintenance and constant attention, must be regularly walked, can’t be left alone for too long, needs special vaccinations, etc. (pet care is a multi-billion a year business).
My wife’s three adult children have dogs – some in multiples. And Eleanor had fallen in love with a new puppy, a beagle, her younger daughter just got when we visited in Colorado. She wanted one just like it – and a purebred at that. (Don’t get me started about the savings in adopting from the Humane Society…)
I love my wife and it isn’t easy for me to refuse her anything she wants – within reason. But acquiring a dog is much like having a child: it tends to pin you down more and demands constant attention. There is training involved, akin to a child attending school. And dogs don’t use toilets and are not fond of litter boxes, either. Messy!
I tried mightily to talk her out of it and even had some support elsewhere. I Googled the phrase “reasons not to get a dog” and found precious few sites except ONE: “10 reasons.” Of the 10 nays, I could find only three or so that clearly were compelling against having a dog in OUR case. One was your spouse is not completely on the same page about the animal (me!), another was you travel to a job regularly (we have had a home-based biz, but travel quite a bit otherwise), and another was you’re not willing to commit to having the animal for its entire life (which meant, in our case, OUR lives since 14 or so years of a dog’s lifespan puts us into our mid-80s – if we make it.)
For older seniors who are mostly homebound, a dog makes a lot of sense. OR for the single, middle-aged women my wife knows (three of them with dogs) who need the companionship. During the period of our debates, one of the women lost her dog, grieved for weeks, and brought the whole dog mortality issue and its aftereffects into close focus. It ain’t pretty.
There are other reasons not all listed at the above site which I have been concerned about – the cost of veterinary care, kennelling, the accoutrements of a dog’s life (a crate when young, portable carriers, toys, etc.), which can really add up.
But in the end, my arguments didn’t prevail. Last Christmas, she said the dog could be my present to her. I reached ONE concession, which was an agreement by her son’s family to take the dog when we are travelling (I should have requested it in writing!).
Since getting Bella from a breeder, my work has been cut out for me. It was obvious we needed a gate to separate an outdoor patio from a walkway to the street – that patio adjacent to the living room of our house has plants and was generally a safe haven for the dog when we tired of her being underfoot. Then there was the challenge of closing off a yard with chicken wire so she would have even more room to roam without threats. Handy Bill to the rescue.
So, okay, Bella’s really cute and learned to take long walks with us at only eight weeks. She even sleeps all night away from us in her little “cage.” (I expected more yelping). She travels pretty serenely on my lap in the car. Potty training is going somewhat well but without that litter box….
I didn’t want the dog and still don’t. But it isn’t a marriage breaker. I guess it raises my standing among the family members who HAVE a dog and consider it no big deal – that’s most of them. (They heckled me quite a bit when they found out I gave my wife considerable resistance).
The other day on a walk I saw three similarly sized dogs on a leash and immediately came to mind the rock group “Three Dog Night.” (It was early evening). A dog-owning friend told me the name of the group was based on the three dogs they had to help keep warm while in Alaska.
Let’s just hope the possibility of multiples doesn’t occur to you-know-who.
William Seavey is a dogged writer whose work appears on both sides of the border. Married to a Canadian, he and his wife regularly visit their second home in Victoria, but they live in Cambria, CA with their dog, Bella.
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