The Ultimate Pet

During our second last pregnancy class, Taryn talked about the view today's society has that a good baby is a baby that cries very little and sleeps all the time. I couldn't agree more, that sounds like the perfect baby to me! But then she said: “ if you want your baby to sleep all the time, get a pet rock!”. While that particular idea hadn't occurred to me yet, I have long considered a baby as the ideal pet.

Whenever Viv and I get the chance, we'll have a look at a pet shop. As it turns out, that happens at least once every one or two weeks, because that's how often we visit the shopping centre in Bondi Junction (or BJ's as we call it). Vivian usually looks at the designer-handbag dogs, and the tinier and uglier they are, the cuter she thinks they are. I generally look at the cats, and don't really care much for the rest. Vivian might have a look at a rabbit and a few hamsters if they have them, but I can't be bothered with those.

Throughout my childhood I remember there were always pets around of some sort. I'm not sure which was the first one, but I think it might have been a big rabbit. We usually had a rabbit around, although they aren't that much fun. You let it out inside and it will pee on the carpet somewhere, and chew through cables. You hold your finger out in front of it and it will take a horribly painful bite deep into your flesh. Let them roam the backyard and they will dig holes, once even digging itself underneath the fence and escaping into someone else's backyard. As a result, they spent much of their time in a small cage.

I can recall a canary-type bird (I think it was yellow) that we'd let out of it's cage to fly around the living room every now and then, until it one day flew straight into a window. I remember a goldfish who's bowl I managed to smash on the floor (I think... but the fish definitely ended up on the carpet one way or another!). I'm not sure if it was the same fish, but I once asked myself and my parents the question: Why don't fish have birthdays? That same night we turned off the light,s lit a couple of candles, and sang happy birthday for the goldfish. The thing with goldfish is though, they don't live very long, or at least not in our house. I was never too upset when one died, because #1: I got to flush it down the toilet, which I thought was kind of cool, thinking it would end up in the ocean, and #2: we'd go buy a new one that same day.

We went through a dozen or so Russian hamsters, and I think they were all named Boris (Boris 1, Boris 2, etc.). These were mostly my sisters pets. They were cute, but boy was that cuteness short-lived. I think the shortest might have been 3 months. I think they'd rarely get past their 1st year, and if they were really unlucky they would grow some sort of horrible bleeding tumor by the end of it. One lucky hamster escaped without ever being found again, a mystery to this day. And I vividly remember the day my sister accidently sat on one, boy can these little buggers screech! They sure were good to teach a child how to deal with grief, backyard burial rituals, and the beauty of hamster-heaven.

Finally, after a small army of pets came and went we wizened up and got a real pet; A cat. Cats are close to the perfect pet, as you can let them roam the neighbourhood the whole day while you're out, they come home in the afternoon, you feed them, they keep you company, that's it. They wash themselves, they don't bark, not even when there's an intruder in the house, and they generally don't run away because you didn't put them on a leash.

Vivian on the other hand, doesn't have too many pet memories. Here memories revolve around pet ducks who through some unexplained mystery from one day to the next where not there anymore. To this day she doesn't know what was the reason behind that, and I never had the heart to explain to her it's because Chinese people, and especially the Cantonese, have this irresistible urge to eat everything with a pulse. I don't know what turn of events made her a dog person, but luckily that won't be an issue for some time yet. Our own pet is on it's way.

What makes a baby the ultimate pet:

• If all goes to plan, you outlive them.
• If all goes to plan even more, they'll look after you when you're old. Ask a dog to do that for you.
• Until they're 7, they'll have no reason to run away, and until they're 10, you can outrun them anyway. Dogs? No leash required.
• They cost you nothing to get. Have you seen what a designer dog costs nowadays?
• Train them well in say, golf, or tennis, and you're set for life. Only horses can offer a similar return on investment.
• If you rent, like we do, you're not allowed pets. Babies however, no problem.
• You can decide yourself what mix you want to have. With pets, you're at the mercy of the breeder and their flavor of the month (Shitzu x Labrador = Shitrador). Instead, we made our own Chutchie (Chinese/Dutch/Aussie), exactly when WE felt like it.
• As a result, it looks like you, instead of you starting to look like your dog.