I was a vegetarian for six years but not because of animal rights. More like animal wrongs. I just didn't think animals tasted good. I had no interest in them at all, whether it be saving them or eating them. If we've already stepped onto the Honest Path then I should probably admit that I love leather. And I love fur. I like to wear animals, okay, not because they're animals but because it makes me feel like a hardcore biker chick or a rich mafioso's wife. Is that so wrong? (Even though I opened this blog to commenting, I beg of you to recognize the rhetorical questions herein).
I don't care how cute or sweet or loyal or strong Rover is, he is not my friend. Believe it or not, there are others who feel the same way that I do. They asked not to be named in this blog for fear of retribution. Retribution, because they cannot form a loving relationship with that hairy, smelly, slimy thing others call a companion. I remember the first time I told one of my friends that "I really wasn't an animal person," and she looked back at me, eyes wide, whispering, "Neither am I!" We are a small and cautious minority. I feel that I must use this space to enlighten the majority of animal lovers on what it's like to just not like animals.
Walk only five blocks through Denver and you'll likely come across some sort of storefront dedicated to animals. Where women once had girl's spa days you can now get a massage, mani/ pedi and aromtherapy with Fido. Is your dog showing signs of depression? Anxiety? Loneliness? Take it to the dog therapist and they'll throw in a free session to help you deal with the emotional distress caused by empathy for your lovely pet. Buy the perfect outfit for your pet's big night and then take it to the pet dry cleaner the next day. Think your pet might be your long-lost great Aunt Edna? Take it to the pet psychic, who can surely help you to connect on another plane. As if wiping their behind and vacuuming their hair wasn't close enough.
I considered the value in the market for animal goods and services. There's obviously a demand. I wonder how it's come to be that in this economy people won't spend on groceries but will buy their pet a $30 ball-throwing-thingamabob. I am glad to see people spending at all, doing their part to keep the economy moving. Useless things for your pet: the modern stimulus package. However, if people are running up their credit or refraining from saving in order to keep Murphy's coat shinier than Tucker's, we've got a bigger problem.
One of my most frequent pet encounters is at the park. From no less than 1/4 a mile away a pet walker can see me. As we near, they do not move to reign Buddy in. When I finally reach them and am forced to run another 1/4 off the trail to avoid Buddy
(usually muttering some sort of irritant under my breath) they look at me with an expression of ignorant shock. "Oh, can you not run through my dog?" they seem to ask. Of course, I also experience animals from afar when I hear their owners call to them. This is an infinite source of confusion to me. I remember seeing one man call in panic, "Ashley! Ashley! Ashley!" I looked around- did he lose his child?! Then, I saw some hairy thing barreling toward him. He hugs it. "Oh, Ashley, I was so worried about you!" Between the Ashelys, Freds, Charlies, and Ramonas I can't figure out who's human or who's pet. I'm beginning to wonder if the owners can't either.
Then there's the interaction I get with the pets that live in my house. I know that many of you are rolling your eyes right now because I do in fact live with a lot of animals. A dog and three cats is a few too many. One of the cats has five toes so I'm really past the threshold on this one. I also must admit that their owners are dismally inept at taking care of them, meaning that the house smells atrocious and the animals irritating. Still, when my roommate went out of town I offered to take care of her cats. I didn't really have a choice but I still hoped that having some responsibility for them might increase an emotional feeling of connection. After changing the litter two times, I definitely felt something emotional, but it was far from connectedness. I'm sick of their hair showing up in my toothbrush when they treat my sink like a personal pool. Or the dog barking at a leaf rolling lazily through the street. What's fun about that?
Many people say that the reason they love animals so much is for the undying, unquestioning, limitless love and affection. I've got several bones to pick with that one. Indeed, I do not give love and affection to animals so I should not expect it in return. Yet they treat me in the same way that others interpret to be a display of love. They lick me, drool on me, jump on me, make odd noises at me, and follow me around. I see this as normal animal actions, not love. I follow my parents when they feed me, too. Then there's the fact that limitless love and affection is not in itself grounds for love in return. If that was the case, I never would've broken up with my spineless ex.
When it comes down to it, I don't despise animals. I think they're cute when they're little. A lot of the time they do funny things, usually out of stupidity, but I enjoy the gesture nonetheless. And they're a great way to forge a connection with a hottie (I would be a liar if I said I hadn't used my parents or a friend's dog to go flirt with fellow walkers at Cheeseman). But, as a non-animal-fan of mine once said, "I simply don't have that emotional connection with them." No matter how cute or cuddly or kind Winston is I don't want him knocking my knees when I walk by, getting stuff on my clothes, or mewing outside my window at night.
In fact, one of the reasons I was most hesitant to write this blog was because I feared that it would end up being a ranting entry. I loath ranting blogs and never want this to become a space where I argue, complain and bitch my thoughts away. So I'd like to close with a letter to all you pet lovers out there, expressing my solidarity.
Dear Pet Lover,
I understand that Harley is the best thing that ever happened to you. I am so happy that you and Harley can share breakfast in the morning, roll around in the grass together all day, and sleep curled around one another at night. It looks like a beautiful and loving relationship, which is all we can really hope for in this world. Sure, I will pet Harley. If it makes you smile I will find something on his massive fury facade to compliment. I will listen to you tell me all about how smart Harley is despite having a brain the size of a pea. You are welcome to bring Harley when we go to the park. In return, I ask only this: Please pull Harley back when he confuses my lower leg for an interested female. Do not let him treat me like a couch or chew toy. And when I'm running pull him even one inch closer to you. If he chases me I will kick him. That's just the way it's going to be.
I respect all you pet lovers out there. I apologize, but I just don't get it. I'll stick to talking to my plants, thanks.
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