Bonding with a Pet & My Incapability to Do So...

     I am in no way a cat person. Never really cared for the creatures. I find them to be an annoyance to furniture, horrible for company, constantly shedding, always trying to mate, and always under your feet at the worst moments. However, if they aren't any of these things then they are fat, sleepy, lazy animals who at that point serve no purpose other than as a financial burden.
     Apart from these specific feelings of distaste, most other animals I can get along with rather well. Rats scare me, fish are simplistic, and big dogs are complicated but fun. This story is focused on the pets I have owned, the ones I have managed to love but somehow lost. My desire to be accompanied in life by a smaller creature and share a companionship with.
    When I was 2 years old, my parents divorced and I moved with my older brother, mom, and newly found step-dad to an even smaller country town on the most west side of Kentucky. We took with us our tiny Pomeranian puppy who, I believe, we called Missy.

Missy

This is one of the only picture I ever found of her. She was sweet, full of cuddly love and energy and I liked to play with her everyday. We kept her outside because my parents just never allowed her in doors. I don't remember how long we had her, but I know at the age of 2 I loved her. Unfortunately, one morning in December, my mother came in to tell me she had died. I don't remember the details of how, whether it was by old age, illness, or injury. All I knew was that she was gone.

ButterScotch

      Fast forward 13 years, I was 15 when I felt true companionship again with another animal. Her name was Butterscotch, she was a pup, a mutt, but most importantly she was mine. Every time we would go outside to feed her you would have to run because she would jump on you before you made it to the right spot. She was 1 of 5 born to her mother Brandy, all of the others had been given away, except her. Which was fine with me considering she had always been my favorite. She was born in a poorly built dog house on a very cold January afternoon. My brother, and by this time sister, and I had just gotten off the school bus at home when my mother had us taking turns keeping the puppies warm so we could make sure they were alive. We stood out there for as long as the cold would let us before we too had to go inside to warm ourselves. My brother and I talked all night about the pups, hoping that they would make it through the night.

Homemade Dog House; not very sufficient

     The next morning however, they all seemed fine. And over the next several months we managed to get rid of them all except for Butterscotch. For a full year I played with her and turned her into my own dog. I wanted to let her know while we couldn't provide her much as her owners, she was still important, at least to me.
     That following summer, my older brother and I moved in with my dad. I had to leave my mother and thus, Butterscotch behind. I spent several months away before I was able to go back to visit my mother. It was late September, school had already started back but the weather was still warm. I had been at my mom's for a couple hours before stepping outside to play with my two younger siblings. I ended up asking my sister where Butterscotch was because she didn't run to me like she usually did. Then my sister got to explain to me the heart breaking truth... Apparently in my absence, Butterscotch just became a nuisance to the remainder of the family. Even though the dogs were fed with a little bit of cheap dog food along with whatever food scraps we had accumulated for the day. As a result, my step-father shot my dog and her mother and disposed of her in the woods. 


    

Needles to say my heart sank. I went from confused to sad, from sad to heart broken, and from pity to complete anger. How could he even think to inhumanely dispose of my dog without asking? It was quite clear who was fond over that dog and for my opinion to not have been asked before taking her life? Bringing the situation up to my parents would have proven worthless. Just an upsetting conversation that would all lead back to it being my fault for leaving, and if I had loved her so much why didn't I take her with me.

The next four years there were no animals, no fish, no dogs, not even an ant to keep me company. My dad didn't fancy any animals nor did he allow them inside. My next pet would be interesting the say the least. Not that it is recommended, but my next pet was considered a mutual pet for me and my boyfriend at the time. It was an angel Beta Fish. He wanted to name it Damion, but when I left for college he had to keep him with his rather religious grandmother so we called him DD. This terrorizing purple and blue fish would just swim, all day, around and around the little tank we kept him in. That fish ended up seeing a lot during his life.A great relationship, a family get evicted, he moved into the dorms with me, moved back into my dad's for winter break, witnessed the end of that relationship, and then moved into my first apartment with me and my roommate. But one afternoon I returned from school and there he was, belly-side up in his tank in my kitchen window. It was a sad site to say the least, it was kinda weird him being alive for so long. It was a year and a half that I had him? Quite a while for a little beta fish. But of all the times I forgot to feed him or clean his tank, he passed away on the day that i managed to do both of those things.

Next came Khloe. My female, long haired Mexican Chihuahua. I found her off Craigslist from a couple who just couldn't keep her because their other dogs were so much bigger than her. Her name was Joey, but it gender confused me too much so I changed it to something that sounded similar. She adjusted fine, took about a month for her to stop hiding behind the couch. She liked both me and my roommate, but me more, and her fur began growing back so pretty. I was able to keep her for about four months. Had her potty trained to go outside, she never barked or was mean to the cats or anything. Almost the ideal dog, however, my busy schedule proved to be difficult. When my very first tournament in Texas rolled around I had my old boss from Swifty Gas watch her for me. It was only four days, just over a weekend. Mike took her to his girlfriend's house on the other side of the mall, and one night she walked in and left the front door open and she bolted. She had become accustomed to me and my house, but not so much other people and theirs. She was so scared when Layton dropped her off. She was just terrified. She ran on a Friday, they waited to tell me until Monday when I was returning home. Which was probably for the best. Mike had his entire neighborhood out looking for her for about 4 hours in the rain that night. He felt so bad it was hard for him to talk to be for several weeks when i returned. I made sure he knew I wasn't blaming him.

Last but not least there was my last dog. Who I just took to the Humane Society this past Saturday. His name was Lance A-Lot. He was a 6 year old white and blonde Pomeranian and he was beautiful. He like me and only me and loved to cuddle and be cute. He, however was not potty trained and was very sick to begin with. He had heart worms but that didn't affect his personality. He took a little longer to warm up then Khloe, but when he did he went crazy. He started barking at everything, and growling when people got text's messages. It was really weird. Fortunately, my landlord never discovered that I had a dog. So I got to keep him for quite a while. His heart worms got real bad though, and him not being potty trained and me traveling all the time just really became a problem. The apartment just became messier, and him harder to control. So I took him to the Humane Society so he could be adopted by a family that had time for him, and he could receive the treatment he needed that I couldn't afford.

I haven't shed a tear yet, but I do miss the little guy. I think ever since Butterscotch it has been easy for me to emotionally detach from any animal that comes into my life. it is just a part of having a pet that I accept, they enter your life and you enjoy them for a short amount of time, typically, before they get old, or too sick, run away, or worse, hit by a car. Maybe someday I will find an animal that will stay in my life for a while, maybe a cute puppy that I can mold to be just like me. Who knows, only time will tell.