Father's Day was fast approaching. My brother-- Mr. Practical, but Boring--wanted to buy Dad a cordless drill. I was in the market for something a little more exciting.
My parents were unknowingly suffering from ENS--the empty nest syndrome. They needed a new object of affection. A pet. I wondered what would be the best pet to get to help fill Dad's needs.
Growing up I remember dogs of various shapes, sizes and mental capacities. Dogs can be noisy and smelly, big and clumsy or small and yappy. They wreak havoc and a variety of other messes. They chase cars, cats, skunks and porcupines and require walking when you require sleep. The best name for a dog, even better than Snoopy, Skippy or Shep, is Headache.
Cats are a little better. It seems there are two basic species of cats: indoor and outdoor. Indoor cats are schizophrenic. One minute they are contentedly purring in your lap. The next, they're running around, claws extended, shredding the furniture--or even worse, you.
It is actually only the outdoor species that has nine lives. That's because eight of your neighbors also claim your cat as their own, give him a separate identity and feed him. To expend all those extra calories, like a dog, he chases cars.
What about birds? They squawk. And it seems, from what I've observed, the most popular thing to do with a bird is to stick your hand in its cage and let it peck at you. The longer you can conceal your suffering, the cooler you are.
Fish are the only sensible house pets for the '90s. So that's what I bought my father. Fish are neat to look at, small, quiet, cheap, can't get lost, don't eat much, don't get fleas and they certainly don't chase cars.
And if your fish die, well, they're just dead. No big deal. Down the toilet they go. Then you go to the store and get some more. I know from experience. All our founding fish have since deceased.
All you need to start--and finish, and all the stages in between--is an aquarium, which you can buy second-hand from the classified ads or a garage sale; a water filter; some rocks; plants; water; a few fish and a heater (for tropical fish).
As man searches for a more convenient, more intellectual best friend--and one with better manners than a dog--fish are the obvious choice. Fish wouldn't dare jump on you and lick your face.
- By Carla Pearson
Editor's note: The author is by no means attempting to cause offense to any variety of pet lover. She has been the proud owner of a myriad of pets, and is a supporter of the Humane Society.
It is actually only the outdoor species that has nine lives. That's because eight of your neighbors also claim your cat as their own, give him a separate identity and feed him. To expend all those extra calories, like a dog, he chases cars.
What about birds? They squawk. And it seems, from what I've observed, the most popular thing to do with a bird is to stick your hand in its cage and let it peck at you. The longer you can conceal your suffering, the cooler you are.
Fish are the only sensible house pets for the '90s. So that's what I bought my father. Fish are neat to look at, small, quiet, cheap, can't get lost, don't eat much, don't get fleas and they certainly don't chase cars.
And if your fish die, well, they're just dead. No big deal. Down the toilet they go. Then you go to the store and get some more. I know from experience. All our founding fish have since deceased.
All you need to start--and finish, and all the stages in between--is an aquarium, which you can buy second-hand from the classified ads or a garage sale; a water filter; some rocks; plants; water; a few fish and a heater (for tropical fish).
As man searches for a more convenient, more intellectual best friend--and one with better manners than a dog--fish are the obvious choice. Fish wouldn't dare jump on you and lick your face.
- By Carla Pearson
Editor's note: The author is by no means attempting to cause offense to any variety of pet lover. She has been the proud owner of a myriad of pets, and is a supporter of the Humane Society.
Taken from Youth 90 magazine
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