I know people make jokes about this in general but, in the last few days, I realized that I REALLY do speak to my pets the exact same way as I do to people. Perhaps that’s why my pets respond differently to most other people’s pets? My pets are my kids after all.
I have full conversations with each of them and, I kid you not, they do respond accordingingly… they listen, they give me specific looks, “answers” and, yes, they even have tantrums just like kids… of course, I know that is my fault because I have spoilt each one rotten with so much love, attention and, basically, getting their way all the time.
My kids are so “human” that it honestly even dumbfounds me at times. Each specific “meow” or “whimper” is a specific statement to me… and yes, I know what each one means. A mother knows her children after all. And whenever dinner time comes, you’ll find a cat sitting on the chair, by the table, waiting to be served… the full dining experience! And no one believes that I didn’t train my youngest dog to stand on his back two feet and beg in a very unique way… he just knows what to do.
As I’m typing this, it’s making me wonder if perhaps this is the reason I am very different, as well, compared to most people. I think and act different. There’s so many quotes about how innocent, kind and loving an animal’s heart is… and, often, I am also told that is very much who I am as a person… so, maybe, my pets are not human but, rather, I have become part of the pack? Although in saying that, I also know that even though I am the mother, I am definitely not the leader… my kids have me trained TOO well to attend to their every beck and call and, if I don’t, then there’s a tantrum or a demanding moan… or even a “polite” clup to say, “I have spoken, why have you not done it yet?”
I love my brats. Yes, my kids are my brats. I would be lost without them and I would never be able to part with any one of them. I know which “meow” or “bark” belongs to who and even when the lights are off, I know exactly whose fur it is that I am busy running my fingers through. I know my kids and, at the same time, they all know me… way too well. Whatever mood or mindset I’m in, they respond accordingly.
If I find myself alone and become upset over something, suddenly I will have at least 5 of my cats come running and climbing ontop of me… out of no where. And in LEVIATHAN WALKS, I talk about when I wanted to commit suicide… alone, with no pets in sight… out of the blue, my cat came to try change my mind… it was a scenario I’ll never forget; the way he suddenly appeared and what he did… he just knew. I look after them and they look after me.
If I’m in a good mood… well, my cats give me a snarky look as if to say, “Wow you’re weird,” while my dogs bounce around excited over something I have yet to fill them in on.
I know this is possibly an insignificant post for many right now, but I honestly don’t care because I am highly fascinated with my kids on a regular basis and, right now, I’m even fascinated at myself as to how I relate to them every day.
Perhaps I treat my pets this way because of how I grew up… my past… my childhood and, basically, most of my life… alone, abused and abandoned with no one to comfort or understand. My pets were always there. They became my closest companions. They became my family. They were the only ones I could ever turn to. Well, regardless of “why” or “what” caused my pets to become so incredibly important to me, it doesn’t matter; they just are and always will be. And for the ones that I have lost through the years, I still shed a tear whenever I think of them. My kids forever hold my heart, and each one has their own irreplaceable part in my heart.