As quickly and quietly as I could manage on my shaky legs, I walked to the gate and unlatched it. If the dogs come now I’m done for, I thought. The only thing in more trouble than a prisoner is a prisoner caught trying to escape. I swung the gate open quickly, squeezed through and with trembling fingers latched it back. I could practically hear my heart pumping in my chest. Then I turned and ran.
I found out later that my teacher had called to cancel my lesson for that day but my dearest sister had forgotten to pass the message. Needless to say, I wasn’t at all happy with her. But since I couldn’t very well explain to my parents that I was going to ignore her forever, I decided to ignore the next best thing: big, mean dogs. The following week I was back for my piano lesson. Grades six, seven and eight passed. I never went near those dogs again, or any other Rottweilers or Alsatians for that matter.
My father didn’t get any more dogs after Major and family. We used alarm systems instead.
Some years later, I decided to get a pair of hamsters. Cookie and Chip were the most adorable dwarf hamsters and they soon produced ten tiny, red, hairless baby hamsters that, to be completely honest, looked like red aliens. Within three days however, the babies were dead, eaten by their mother. It was disgusting to say the least. Concerned friends and family helpfully gave about a dozen different tips on how to prevent that from happening again, so I listened, waited and hoped. The next batch lasted five days. I gave up. Besides, the cages stank even though I tried to clean them regularly.
Two years ago, my sister gave me a fish for Christmas. It lived in a little jar that didn’t require filter systems or anything of that sort, ate once in two days and almost never needed its water changed. I loved it. This was a pet I might actually be able to keep. I named it Psychedelic Ginger Beer. Ginger Beer for the colour of the stripes it had and Psychedelic for the way the stripes looked when it moved through the water. A month or so later however, I came home one day to find it floating upside down on the surface of the water. It was dead. And I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why.
A friend told me later that it probably died of loneliness. He said fishes needed to be kept at least two to a tank for company – fighting fish not withstanding. I’m still deciding whether or not to believe him. I’d never heard of anything like that before but if it’s true, I’m glad that it wasn’t anything I did or didn’t do that killed Psychedelic Ginger Beer.
My boyfriend saw the photograph of the dog next to my computer the other day. He loves dogs and he thought the photograph was beautiful. He wants to have a dog and a cat. I told him I have three dogs already. And a frog. And two bears. They make no mess, no noise and are just adorable. Just because they’re lifeless doesn’t mean soft toys don’t make good pets.
