Animals

I had my first "fist fight" at the ripe old age of six. There was a boy in my class who already had a vicious cruel streak running through him despite the fact that we were all in the wonderous innocent world of first grade. He liked to bully other kids. He stole toys, told lies and worst of all, he abused animals. He threw our class pet on the floor once and laughed afterwards. Every time it rained he would run outside to eagerly stomp on all the earthworms. He dissected live lizards in the playground with sharp pieces of mulch. He was that kid. That hideous Scott Farkus and Sid from Toy Story blend of maniacal evil. I hated him.

During that third week he had taken to calling me "poop girl." This was because my skin was apparently "too brown" and to him, I looked like poop. We had been at recess all of five minutes before I saw him standing behind the large tree that grew in the school yard, ripping the legs off a cricket very s l o w l y. I walked over and demanded that he stop. My heart was racing and I felt like a super hero. I loved animals and I really did hate this kid and his stupid face and goofy smile with all those missing teeth. He looked up and said, "Shut your face, poop girl."

So I belted him.

Hard.

He cried.

It was awesome.

Best of all, I didn't get in trouble. The teacher assumed that we had a verbal fight. She made me sit out for the rest of recess. I basically got off scot free!

I've never forgotten this kid. Not just because we were forced to attend school together for the majority of our childhood, but because he was such a jack ass, even from an early age, and I always wondered why. Then the older I grew, I noticed the fundamental connection between pets (particularly dogs) and men. If a guy comes over and your normally happy dog growls at him, something ain't right with that guy. Any man that takes enjoyment from torturing or being cruel to animals is not a man, he is a coward. The Lord gave us dominion over animals and how we treat them, matters. It matters very much.

Now that I have boys of my own, I try my hardest to make sure they understand how important it is to love and respect animals. I was a weird kid growing up. Like most kids, I loved animals and unlike most girls, I was obsessed with bugs. I used to save earthworms from sidewalks-stompers at recess by scooping them up and saving them in my pockets for later. I loved lizards, spiders and crickets. I even picked up the occasional roach.

Now I don't expect my kids to go that far in their love of animal life, but if I ever catch them doing anything even remotely inhumane to animals or insects for the enjoyment of watching a lesser thing suffer, boy will they be in trouble.

Today we ran a few errands, one of which included a stop at Petsmart. The diva dog needed more food and I know the kids love going to this particular shop and so we all went in together. It just so happened that Adopt a Pet was also there this morning. They had set up a small gated area packed with wriggling squirmy little pups. Surprisingly, Cubs was a little freaked out by all the intense yapping, so J took him to see the kittens. The Bear was glued to the puppy bin. Here are a few phrases he said while we visited.

"Too cute!"

"Puppies are so fun, they are very nice Mama"

"Look Mama, Puppy is eating cheerios. He has a baby football!"

"Mama, Puppy drinking agua!"

"Ohh poor baby puppy, he lost his mommy!"

That last phrase tugged at my heart. I love how sensitive he was to the fact that a mommy dog was nowhere to be found. I explained that the shelter took care of the puppy the way I take care of him. They hold the puppies, feed them, give them water and play with them. He was serious for a few minutes as he contemplated the fact that the puppy did not have a mommy. I tried again, and told him that our dog Frankie doesn't have a mommy either, but that we are his family and always take good care of him. The Bear smiled at this and told me he was ready to go see the "Winnies."

For those out of touch with preschool television, there is a show called "The Wonder Pets!" that the boys love. Its about a group of classroom pets that save other animals from perilous situations. Last week, they saved a baby skunk from a thorny rose bush. It was viewed by all people under 35 inches in height at our home with quiet intensity, only the crunching of cookies could be heard as the Wonder Pets rescued the illusive skunk. One of the main characters is a guinea pig named Winnie. Hence, "the winnies" refer to any and all guinea pigs.

As we stooped down to peer into the glass, the Bear noted that the Winnies all had water, food and dry bedding, but again, no mommy. He peered up at me from under his baseball cap and asked, "Winnie home?"

"Sorry buddy, but we already have Frankie."

"Mama, Frankie and Winnie Mommy."

He wanted me to be Frankie and Winnie's mommy in the same way that I am his mommy. He had listened and understood everything I said. I'm proud of him for understanding the concept, I love that he has such a tender heart for animals and I ----- I stuck my foot in my big mouth today. When my eldest hears a concept or idea that I enforce as good, it sticks...it sticks hard. Something tells me that in a few years, our house will be overrun with pets who will have me as their predominant caregiver. Dang it.

But then again, I'd rather have my sweet boys and a house full of bugs and caged vermin then a petless home over run with Sid/Scott Farkus minions.