We had plenty of animals growing up, but that was on an 80 acre dairy farm. The cats were feral, except a couple that would hang out in the dairy barn. The rest would be mousers out in the fields and we wouldn’t pay attention to who was who. In the winter, we would leave waste milk out for them to keep them from starving. The dogs would usually eat the mixture of milk and grain that the baby calves ate, table scraps, mice, or dead cattle we dragged up to the bone yard (an area far away from the house where we wouldn’t have to smell it). We did have one house dog, Poochie. It was this little Shih Tzu that was rather gross, a little long haired dog around the muck of a dairy farm is not pleasant.
My wife came from a similar background as I, her parents have a 10 acre hobby farm. They raised beef cows and have plenty of pets around. Her parents worked other jobs, but they kept that place busy.
When I went off to college, I missed having animals around, but I was so caught up in the college social life that I didn’t care. Landlords don’t like pets, so I never bothered with it for years.
Early on in our marriage, we bought a house (just before the housing crash, but that’s a different story). We had some neighbors who were moving away to the city, and asked if we could keep this Australian Shepherd of theirs. We accepted the dog into our lives. My then two year oldest son and the dog quickly started battling for dominance. First minute we bring the dog home, he runs over to our boy and starts humping him, this is retaliated a number of times with our son chasing him with sticks. A few months into this, the dog starts acting aggressive with growling and nipping. My wife and I discuss it, and it is time to put the dog down before my son gets his face bit. So, I take the dog on a one way trip into the woods and do the deed, Old Yeller style and bury him.
Currently, we have six kids, and about a dozen chickens. (I should know how many, but personally, I don’t care). We elected to not get any dogs or cats because they would be a pain to deal with if we went on vacation, or if they got into the neighbors’ yards. My kids will play with the neighbor’s dogs, but they are the neighbor’s responsibility, not mine.
Often, my wife and I will discuss what seems like a disturbing trend in our society, people valuing animals on the same level or higher than people. We are all familiar with the “crazy cat lady” stereotype, but there is more to it than that. Guys I know, or am familiar with on the internet talk about this emotional attachment to their dogs. Tom T Hall sings about “Old Dogs, Children, and Watermelon Wine”. Personally, I think pets are great, but they still are animals. It is sad if you lose them, but Mr. Bojangles grieving 20 years later? Come on people, if you have this sort of attachment to an animal that will eat your feces if you let it, you have your priorities a little messed up.
I think much of this stems from the fact people are not having kids anymore. Either they are single adults, or they are married without children. Like a 4 year old girl all infatuated with her mangy dolls, grown adults will refer to their pets as “their babies”, and give them nothing but the best.
Last year, we had a raccoon attack the chickens, and one of the chickens was mauled pretty bad, but still lived. The chicken went insane, and the other chickens picked on it relentlessly. My wife put out a classified ad, and this little old lady called up and took the free chicken. We took the chicken over, and the lady lived by herself, and was just about as insane as the chicken. She lived by herself in this little shack on about 3 acres. There was junk everywhere, and my kids played in the old cars and rusted swing sets for a couple hours while my wife and I chatted with her. She was one of those people we met all too often as missionaries “Sorry, but we gotta go!”, and they completely ignore you and just keep talking about random stuff. Finally, we just had to break it off in almost a rude way and leave. Since then, my wife has taken the kids over a few times, just to visit. The old woman is just lonely. The chicken did get killed by some cats or something, but the woman is still there, trying to find some other doll to latch onto.
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