The Things You'll do for Your Kids

I was raised around animals...outdoor animals. They required feeding, but little picking up after or other attention. I am not a fan of pets.

But for my kids, we got a dog.

"We'll walk him, Mom. Play with him, Mom. Pick up after him, Mom. Remember to feed him, Mom."

Oh yeah, all the promises.

Did that happen? Of course not. Mom walked the dog. Mom picked up poo. Mom fed and watered the dog. Mom found the dog a new home with people who loved him.

"A smaller pet, Mom. Something we can keep in a cage in our rooms."

And so, for my kids, we got guinea pigs.

This was somewhat better. Mom nagged the kids to feed the gp's. Mom nagged the kids to water the gp's. Mom nagged the kids to clean the gp's cage and give them a bath. Mom said, "keep that away from the gp."

Did that happen? No. Someone forgot. The gp's, who like to gnaw on everything, gnawed on the wrong thing and passed away.

"Can we get a cat, Mom?  Oh, please, oh please?"

And so, for my kids, we got a cat.

And, this time Mom got a feeder that held a half-gallon of water and a self-feeder to hold enough cat food for a weekend away. (Mom refills both.) Mom got a litter box. (Mom empties the litter box.) Mom got cat toys. Mom got a comfy bed for the cat to sleep in. Mom got a scratching post.

The kids love the cat and play with it. Happy kids. Yay!

The cat is driving mom insane. It scatters litter on her bathroom floor. Then it pushes its half-gallon water container all over the floor, sloshing water as it goes until the litter and water has mixed to create a fabulous concrete paste.  Mom has never cleaned her bathroom floor so often in her life.

Oh, and Mom's furniture has scratches.

And so, for Mom, there will be no more pets after the cat.