elizabethlevett

Last summer my husband and I adopted two kittens, a brother and sister. Two, because he insisted that two is always better. Kittens, because I’ve never had one before. Over the past thirty or so years, we’ve had plenty of feral cats, senior cats, cats adopted with a history of abuse and/or neglect, even that one funny tuxedo boy who banged on the front window one evening and decided our apartment was his new home. On and on. We’ve had to administer steroids, insulin, fluids, and hot compresses. We’ve never had the little ones – the heart-breakingly cute, hilarious, maddening, little ones. And the foster lady did say that everyone should have a kitten at some point. So here we are.

I’ve come to realize that raising a pet — or more than one is exactly like parenting and nothing like parenting. Allow me to explain. First, I am not, nor have I ever been, a parent. I know this and I’m not kidding myself. I am not (yet) insane enough to claim that my kittens are my children, and that I am their mama. Also, if you will promise not to use the words, “pawrent” or “fur baby” around me, I promise never to say, “Look at that! He thinks he’s people!” But, in some ways, raising an animal has a lot in common with raising a child. Undeniably.

I know what you’re thinking, but I can cite authorities. Namely, my siblings, my brother, and my sister. Both of them are parents, phenomenal parents. I’ve spoken with them, and they have given me a pass on this, so please don’t come for me with indignation. We’re good. My brother, who has three gorgeous and brilliant adult kids once said about his puppy that it’s just like raising a child! My sister’s fabulous adult kids are now parents themselves and I asked her if my constant posting of kitten pictures on social media had gotten monotonous. She said, “Come on, you’ve cheered for everyone else’s kids. Go for it.” She also gave me near-parent level points for my years of teaching young kids – hundreds and hundreds of them. And yes, I know that’s not exactly the same either, but I listen to my siblings. If they get it, I’m good.

Consider the following situations and tell me if you notice at least a hint of analogy… Let’s say, for instance, that over the course of a few months, you’ve taken more photos of your pets than you have of your spouse in all the years you’ve been together. If you have more than one pet, you find yourself compelled to give them equal attention in all things – because you could swear the little brother looked so hurt the other day when you were kissing his sister! You take videos of them doing perfectly commonplace things because, for some reason, yours look so adorable at everything! You find yourself saying things that parents say all the time like, “What are you eating?!” and, “Get down from there!” and, “We don’t play with those!” and, “Are you seriously doing that just to get my attention?” pretty much every day. If you step on something in the middle of the night and hurt your foot, it was probably one of their toys. In the morning you find yourself foolishly asking, “Where’s my other slipper??” You somehow need to know where they are at all times. (And, though you may not realize it, they probably feel the same way about you – not your slippers, your pets.)

They quickly learn what it looks and sounds like for you to be unhappy about something they’ve done and can become unbelievably skilled at earning your forgiveness for their transgressions with just a wide-eyed look because, aren’t they cute?! You find yourself spending money on them constantly. (“Wouldn’t they just love one of those?!”) You may be content with a sandwich but you pointedly bring your glasses along to the pet store to scour ingredients labels on their food – because you just read an article that sweet potatoes are better for them than peas! You also realize that it can be hard to get any time to yourself unless they’re asleep. They love to get involved in your day-to-day tasks around the house – to “help” you. This means everything suddenly takes longer to do but you don’t care because it’s so much more fun to fold the laundry, or pull weeds, or wash dishes now! (“Who’s my good little helper?!”) You find yourself explaining that they don’t really need to follow you into the bathroom. And if they see you grab a newspaper or a book, they suddenly appear out of nowhere and climb onto your lap.

You notice that they can make you laugh out loud at any given moment (doing the same thing they did yesterday) and that, though you’d swear you always thought of yourself as restrained, suddenly any occasion calls for a treat! There is absolutely no logic as to when they will completely tune you out and when they will choose to find you fascinating. And you seriously can’t believe how quickly they’ve become so big! Their arrival in your life calls for a dramatic shift when it comes to deciding whether you actually want to leave the house. Their trust in you is humbling – especially since you will find yourself having to pull them out of some crazy, unlikely hide-and-seek location, or cut their nails for them, or wash off whatever the hell THIS is. (“What did you get into, anyway?”) When you look at them, you can’t imagine any creature could be any more brilliant than yours. (“Watch this, he’s so smart! He’ll sit if you tell him to! – Come on, sweetie, sit, sit, sit!”) You’re certain there isn’t anything you wouldn’t do to keep them safe. They seem to find you perfectly beautiful no matter what you look like. And they have the power to repair a tough day just by falling asleep in your arms.