I’ve been surprisingly saddened by the recent decision by my parents to give away their Manchester Terrier Seven. Surprisingly because I don’t really like the dog, he barks at every noise and is all nose and elbows, plus he’s a dog. I like my dogs like I like my men, fluffy and quiet and only around for brief visits.
I think my parents got Seven in 2003 or 2004, I don’t remember exactly. He was the runt of the litter (of 9, hence the geeky Star Trek Voyager “Seven of Nine” name) from a breeder in Terrace, BC, and I was visiting when they got him (though I didn’t name him, I was so over Voyager by then). He was cute, but he wasn’t cuddly, though he eventually became so in spite of being all pointy bits and unfluffy, when curled up into a ball beside you in a chair.
Our dog Dom, a Maltese Poodle (very cuddly), had died a few months or maybe a year previous, and he’d lived to be 15 or 16 or so and I’d grown up with him around. Dom’s best friend/worst enemy Samantha (my cat) had died maybe 2 years before that, at 14. I sort of felt when they were both gone that it was the end of an era, as we’d got them when I was in Grade 5. Here they are, old farts at this point, too weak to fight over the sunbeam:
I guess I see pets as family, and I would because I’m an only child so it’s either that, imaginary friends or hardcore drugs. I feel like I’m losing a family member here, and I did something I never do, which is question a parent’s personal decision. I argued with my mom a couple times in the last few days about how I think this is a mistake, but ultimately we agreed that it’s the best thing because she and my stepdad obviously have no soul.
Bah, it still sucks. The reason, really, is that given their move to a small condo from a very large house, plus other life changes, taking care of the dog is harder than it used to be. And the dog is a purebred and while stupid is still quite cute, so there have been a bunch of people wanting to take him. He’s not gone yet but he could be this week, and I’m sorry I was too tired to visit this weekend and say goodbye.
The other household pet is Mom’s Maine Coon cat Spooky, whom they got maybe a decade ago from the SPCA, who guessed the cat’s age at that point to be around 10. That cat is old and crotchety and its fur is all clumped up and matted, and I figure it’s still alive only out of spite for us. Spooks’ kidneys are starting to fail, though, so we probably will be saying goodbye to her sometime in the next year. Oh well, it’s hard to be that upset about the death of a pet that’s had a good life and is frankly on borrowed time at this point.
I think the real reason I’m more upset than I expected is because I’m imagining what it would be like to have to give up my cat Shebang, and that’s a really, really sad prospect. As far as I’m concerned, my home is not home without my pet, and neither are my parents’.
I think I’d be upset that the pet wasn’t being made the priority, the lifestyle was – I mean, one of the reasons we chose to live where we live (not the only one, of course) is because of our cats – they’re used to going outside, so we didn’t move into an apartment, but rather got a basement suite so they still could. I can’t fathom moving somewhere and then giving them away because they didn’t suit our lifestyle anymore – when you take on a pet, you take on a responsibility that lasts as long as the pet does. On the other hand, they’re finding it a good home, so they’re at least making sure that it’s cared for, so that’s good. But still, don’t know if I could do that.
Also, ever see the episode of Futarama, Jurassic Bark? Saddest. Episode. EVER. Maybe seeing that would change their minds…
@Renee To be fair, their reasons are valid enough, and as much as you and I can say we can modify our lives for the sake of our pets, it would be harder if we were seniors and in ailing health.
FWIW, from a definite dog-person, I’d also find it hard to swallow if my parents decided to give away their pup, whatever the reasons.
Then again, Neil and I have always said (in regards to our own dog) that she’s got a $4,995 lifetime emergency medical budget limit – the last $5 would be for the bullet to put her out of her misery. It’s a bit of dark humour for us, because we’d obviously do whatever we had to in order to do best by her, but we aren’t the people who’d spend 5 or 10 or 20 thousand dollars on expensive treatments for chronic disease or surgeries.
It helps remind us that while she’s definitely a companion to our family, the most important thing is the health and happiness of the animal, which is hard to provide when you’re infirm or insolvent.
At least they’re looking at sending Seven to a good home, and not just increasingly neglecting his needs or dropping him in the river in a sack of rocks. Though one of those heartbreaking SPCA commercials was on while I was writing this, so anything even remotely humane seems okay at this point.