Our guinea pig era
An update on the household creatures
We have never been your typical pet household.
Several poems around this time in the book focus on the creatures living with us (or the recently departed creatures that used to live with us).
Pets are weird things. With the exception of a few species (some turtles, and maybe macaws, I think) any creatures with whom you share your life will pass on well before you do. And if you develop the kind of close bond with them that my wife does, you are building a certain amount of extra heartbreak and grief into your life plan, on top of what you will already experience saying goodbye to parents, older relatives, mentors, sick friends, etc.
Even though I don’t quite understand it, I get as wrapped up in it as anyone else. I really like having our animal companions around, and blindly tune out any thoughts of impending mortality.
We have never been your typical pet household. A dog is usually the default, and with good reason. They seem to give love the easiest, they are the least guarded, they need you the most. As I have previously mentioned here, they are not my cup of tea, but we will probably get one in the near future, as our daughter clearly wants one.
My wife brought with her to our relationship a deep abiding love of cats. One in particular, Miya, passed away in the year of the book, and we chronicle her health struggles and my surprisingly emotional reaction in the aftermath.
There is something comforting…to hear the chittering, rustling, hungry meows, impatient squeaks and general low-volume ruckus…
And now I feel we are solidly in the area of the guinea pig. Spice is this substack’s unofficial mascot, as you may have witnessed on the splash page of our website or in recent Instagram posts. But she is not your typical cavy, whom we are told are usually quite affectionate, particularly with kids. Our fluffball, however, would be better characterized as aloof, and barely tolerant of human attention.
And speaking of aloof, I would be remiss if I didn’t introduce our current cat. Lexi comes from some sort of trauma and, for most of her time with us, she has only interacted with my wife, demonstrating an aversion to my male speaking voice and our daughter’s loud, wiggly presence. But that has started to change in recent months, and Lexi has dared to come into the same space as the entire family for short spurts.
There is something comforting in this time of universal discomfort to hear the chittering, rustling, hungry meows, impatient squeaks, and general low-volume ruckus that these creatures bring to our home.
Happy New Year, y’all.
❤️
Adam