Weird pets

Any pet that is your own can never be considered weird. As humans, we attach a certain amount of emotion to the critters in our lives. Quite often, the outside world may think we are “weird” because of our pet choices. I, for one, fall into that category.

Over the course of my lifetime I have had an assortment of kittens, adult cats and fish. I have many close friends and family members who will shout from the roof top that “Fido” is as much a part of the family as Aunt Matilda. A few even regard “Fido” on a much higher level on the family tree than any of the human members. Occasionally I have come across the owner of a horse, a mountain goat (nature’s lawnmower), a calf and a warren of rabbits.

As much as I can understand the love for the pet cat, dog, goat or pot belly pig, I must now state my own feelings on the best choice of a pet, at least as far as my own life is concerned.

I work full time, I have a lot of extra curricular activites and I take advantage of travel opportunities whenever I can. I cannot justify putting “Fido” through the torment of living with a neglestful human, such as myself. For, you see, as loving and companionable as pets may be, they expect and deserve the same from the humans that have adopted them into their world. I am not such a worthy human.

I am selfish, flighty and impulsive. Fortunately, my spouse fits perfectly into that world. A loving, devoted critter expects to eat-every day. My spouse can fend for himself, if need be. “Fido” and “Fluffy” cannot be expected to do so.

Therefore, my pet choice, one that fits me and my lifestyle without harm coming to either one of us, is a cuckoo clock. It has been my proud possession since my brother brought it back from Switzerland more than ten years ago.

Cuckoo is the perfect pet in many ways. If I am not home to feed him, it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t eat. If I neglect to pull his chains and reset the pendulum, it doesn’t matter. He will silently wait for my return, at which time I will reset his life into motion. No harm done.

He doesn’t jump, howl, whine or “have accidents.” If his usually charming “Cuckoo, Cuckoo” each half hour is disturbing, I can easily shut him down until I’m ready to have him share my world once again.

We have a very harmonious life, Cuckoo and I. There are no expectations on either side that cannot be easily met. I would like to say that being the proud owner of a cuckoo clock means eliminating veterinarian bills as well. But, it may be shortsighted to say that. You see, once, a few years ago, Cuckoo devoloped a mild “crick in his neck” that caused him to lose time and not be very reliable when it came time to announce the half hour. A somewhat lengthy, somewhat expensive, stay at the Cuckoo Clock doctor was warranted to correct his malfunction.

So, you see, even my slightly off-beat (no, I won’t say weird) pet requires a bit of specialized attention every now and then.

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