Pets

Many seniors have pets, mostly dogs or cats. Some have other pets ranging from tiny (maybe a cricket) to huge (like an elephant). Others have humans for pets (or at least they are treated that way, and called pet). A statistic rumbled by recently suggesting that there are some 167,000,000 (give or take) pet dogs and cats in the U.S. with dogs out in front.

Some retirement facilities have rules against pets (exceptions may include goldfish) as do some landlords. The reasons for this could be many, some valid, others mere preference. It is true that some seniors linger longer in their own homes because their pets are unwelcome at the next level. Then, there are facilities housing seniors which ban pets but allow pets to visit on occasion or utilize pets for therapeutic purposes.

Getting attached to a pet is easy. It's getting unattached that is often difficult if not impossible. Pets can be expensive. What has been said facetiously about marriage can also be said about pets: “it isn't the down payment that is expensive, it is the upkeep.” We have new neighbors who have a relatively new (and young) dog. A beauty it is but has had surgery and now must wear a special collar to keep it from scratching the stitches. We watch, fascinated, at the various collar sizes and colors utilized to facilitate the healing.

I saw an ad the other day promoting pet insurance. From what I've heard, some pets with accidents or diseases can cost a fortune in medical expenses. We have gone into pet bakeries on occasion and marveled at the exotic goodies baked for pets. We are also intrigued by pet funerals and burials with high hopes of a pet heaven and even hopes of reunions on the other side.

When it comes to a pet-initiated senior moment, the sky is the limit it seems. Do I remain where I am because I can't take my pet with me? As the pet ages, can I afford or am I willing to pay the expenses? What if I outlive my pet? What if my pet outlives me? Am I able to control my emotions if something happens.

While walking home, I noticed a young bird lying on the sidewalk. Obviously, it was injured, probably a broken wing and possibly more. I paused, pondered for awhile, and trudged on home. Later, my wife asked if I had seen the bird. I affirmed that I had. She suggested that we (meaning me) ought to move it off the sidewalk and into the shade. I took pity on the bird and gently scooped it onto a dustpan and placed it under a shady tree.

Then my good wife brought it some water, and later some seed. A few minutes later it was cooling in the shallow water. Two similar birds (parents perhaps) flew into the tree and maintained what we thought was a watchful (and hopeful) eye on the young bird. In the morning we discovered that it had expired and I buried it in our garden (without a ceremony). Although we were not attached emotionally, we both were saddened. A life had slipped away and we were powerless to do anything about it.

Right after this episode in our lives, I read about a bird hospital in another country where injured birds are treated. Free, thanks to donations. Apparently others felt a kinship to animals. If a pet causes a senior moment, don't be too surprised (it can happen to anyone). But be prepared. A beloved (or almost beloved) pet could make demands you may not anticipate, in life or death. So, be prepared (and forewarned).