Pets, they teach us so much about Ourselves… 

I am currently a Camp Counselor, with a designated chief role as Arts & Crafts instructor. Ordinarily I serve as an Art Specialist and I devise and implement the curriculum. But for Summer Camp, this is not possible. My role is to deliver a predetermined activity to ~96 children—divided into six, thirty-minute sessions, grouped roughly by age, from two to twelve. As luck would have it, today’s craft was all about chia pets. You know “pets” that don’t take much care. Almost like pet rocks, though chia are a level up in demands because they need light and water, but no real babying, and certainly no affection. 

Perhaps you remember those Cha Cha Chia commericals and the assorted terra cotta bases from which tiny seeds would sprout up like a dense carpet—everything from basic wooly sheep to Bob Ross spoof-hair-do. Completely novel to most of the children, so they did not note the inevitable variation of materials: pantyhose to contain ordinary grass seed and potting soil; tied off like a water balloon, and placed in a small mouthwash sized plastic cup. On this pouch, I was to help them hot-glue googlie eyes. (At home they are supposed to add water into the cup and wait; the grass “hair” should begin to show like a crew-cut sometime this weekend.) The camp children are still very young, and at the very mention of “pet,” they began searching for suitable names…

Although I have no say in advance as to the particular “arts” craft on schedule, I realize that I am left to spin and sell it. This week’s Camp Theme is “Going Green.” To slightly redirect their imaginations, I explain to the children that we are going to make a tiny little garden to take home, which will take the shape of this garden dude. I can see their minds fantasizing big—in the palm of their hands they see the whole vegetable patch from yesterday’s trip to the nearest farm. So I begin to ask them some leading questions, to keep everyone mentally engaged, and philosophically grounded, if you will.

I ask them: “What do we need in order to make a garden?”

“Vegetables!!!”

“Before the vegetables…”

“Flowers!!”

“But before the flowers…”

“Plants…no, seeds!”

“Before the seeds even…”

“…Water?!…”

“Yes, and also…”

“And sunlight…!!”

“Yes, and…”

“Dirt!”

“And even before this…” eyeing our porous stocking containers, hoping that the kids will recognize that we need a designated space before we can plant anything… And suddenly a hand shoots up and a child with a face all aglow waves his hand adamantly,

“I know, I know!   —a Diaper!”

(*The pets came out as expected, but it was very hard to keep a straight face after this innocent little insight.)

    It was a beautiful, etherial, early summers morning just after day break. I was bringing the house cow down from her pasture to the milking shed, Sookie her name was, she was a loverly older Friesian, gentle and easy to handle. I opened the gate and called her out into the lane. 

     Technically, I had my dog with me, a yellow Labrador.  Her name was 'misty' but the family all called her 'gormless' she was defiantly a 'one sandwich short of a picnic' type dog. Up to that point she had managed to fall off a cliff, got herself shut in numerous sheds and barns, been ridden over, trodden on and still hadn't worked out that the pantry door opens just at the right hight to clout her round the ear. Still we all loved her.

     Gormless was sat in the middle of the path idly scratching her ear and lost in contemplating the clouds when Sookie cow crossed the lane.  Sookie started walking down the path she looked at the dog, who hadn't noticed her and waited for the dog to move. The dog, lost in her own world did not notice her, the cow then dropped her head, slipped one horn under the dog and tossed her neatly into the ditch, where she landed with a satisfying squelch amongst the wet mud and watercress. Gormless climbed out of the ditch dripping black slime with a rather fetching sprig of watercress behind one ear.

She looked at me with a bemused and hurt expression, as if to say 'what happened ?' 

     Sookie cow threw her head and tail up, skipped and danced down the lane with her big old udder swinging from side to side.

 I swear to this day I heard that cow laughing!

What are you doing, you know I wont give you any! So why sit by the table, your cute twitching noise in the air, your tail wagging, your ears perked up, your body all shaking? Do you have no self pride, with your gorgeous brown eyes, staring at me, melting my soft heart, shaming me into... oh alright here you go.

there are cats 

brown ,black and white

playing , fighting

hiding under our folded beds

with sudden mowing voice 

make us wake 

there is somebody hiding in room

sudden silence check out 

disturbance of what ? 

lets see where it is ?

downside your bed or my bed 

today the white cat 

last day black cat

find out secert doors to barge in  

our room 

is this their home 

or our room 

both friends find their way to came inside and 

hide themselve from chilling winters outside

for their survival 

our hostel room 

but being scary 

need to be left outside 

under roof for release of

disturbance caused. 

beautiful thought

providing them some food milk 

so not again enter our room 

live under care outside our room for forever 

their legacy will speak for kids who will come next year in new horizon of life 

our room will became their room and these young cats will became their cats

black and white friend together number uncounted 

as we friends live together inside our room

when we will left that place of their permanent reside and our temporary timelife

after few years when we will pay visit again 

these legacy of ours we will like to watch

how much they are grown as we will be grown up.   

Little human. Sister, brother, daughter, son. Best friend. Pet. 

Each with their own personality. One likes belly rubs, the other will claw your eyes out if you dare touch theirs. They like Fancy Feast, but only the cans with tuna. 

Infinite patience for them. A friend wants to come over after work? No way, you'll be exhausted. Your dog needs a half hour walk after work? Of course! And don't forget to dress them in their cute little coats. It's chilly outside! Should Mr.Fluffy wear the blue or green coat tonight? The blue, he already wore the green yesterday, we don't want the neighbors talking. 

Your sister came over last week and accidentally dropped the vase. You shouted in her face, causing her to leave. You haven't spoken since. Your cat purposely knocked over your water-twice- how cute! He's your little trouble-maker.

Your friend coughs up a lung and complains about how ill he feels. Stop being so whiny! Suck it up! Your dog sneezes: Oh no, what could possibly be wrong with your little baby?! Quick, bring him to the emergency animal hospital!

At the end of the day, it's just you and your pet. You love the unique (and probably a little unhealthy) relationship the two of you have. What more could you ask for?

I had a bird once

who fluttered and sang

But then I got a cat

Whose belled collar rang

When she chased the bird

And pierced him with her fang

A pup, I bought from the store

He promptly satisfied hunger pang

Ate the cat in three big chomps

Let the doggie door rattle a bang

As he defecated feline in the yard

A hawk, just then, on wire did hang

He swooped down on poor Fido

Gun loaded, aimed by Mr. Yang

He shot that hawk from the sky

"Mine. Get your own...  Dang!!"

It was early July, and the sun graced the earth with its presence. That day was something to always remember; when human and animal trust each other. Not a word or a sound from either: Just a beautiful walk on a warm day.

When human and animal share an unbreakable bond; sure, his big nose takes him all over the earth, but he knows there is a guiding hand to bring him back to where his heart belongs: With her. He understands the guiding hand; he appreciates it more than she’ll ever know.

When you were an undersized whelp, 

the mere sight of your mug caused my brain to hurt,

crammed with gooey emotions. 

When I first encountered you, 

I saw your appearance to be pure, but then

you showed your true colors;

the dark peeking through the light.

The sight of you even harder to bear.

Like a weed, you grew,

And with each month that you squatted in my home,

you stole a thing I valued.

Years of cleaning up after you,

as you leave trails of hair and discards from couch to yard.

My back is starting to protest.

I don't know how many more seasons it can take,

though many more would not be unwelcome.

If you last only sixteen years or so,

then I would not be unhappy.

To not see your long face at the window,

Watching for me, would be traumatic.

To not have to fend off your filthy paws would be devastating.

You are a messy and destructive hairy beast,

but you are my Prince Luka.

You are a dog. Well a puppy. German Shepard and hound mix, at least that is what the vet said. We adopted you and took you in. You needed us and we wanted you. We didn't know you were sick until we brought you home. We felt so bad. The people that owned you before we got you didn't sound like they took care of you well.

We nursed you back to health. You helped our son be more like a toddler than so shy all t he time. You gave our infant daughter a friend to make her laugh. You are a good friend to us. We love you like you love us. We are all family.

You are a puppy, a big puppy at that. We can tell you will be a big dog. But you act like a big baby. Always wanting attention and loving, no matter how much you want, what we give you never seems to be enough.

You cry when we leave, you are happy when we return. Our children love you very much. You may be a big baby but you are our big baby.

She sits next to me, her tongue out and panting away from the dry heat. I am sitting next to her, my arms wrapped around her body protectively. Tears fall down my face, falling onto her white fur. 

"Come on Daisy, you don't have to die!" I whispered to my polar bear of a dog. 

Daisy didn't answer. She kept panting. 

The poor baby hadn't eaten in a week and had stopped going outside, and moving around. She was only nine years old. She shouldn't die yet, right? 

It brought me to tears to think of a time without her by my side. My big fluffball, who I shared many birthday parties with, and had gone through the rough times by my side. The dog that I loved, and always would love. 

Mom finally had to pull me off of her, but I didn't go without a fight. I kicked and screamed, trying to get back to Daisy's side. I would not leave her, no matter what. I tried so hard to get away, to be able to go and see my dog one last time. But Dad closed the car door and drove off. 

I never saw Daisy again.