I am not a good mourner. Both of my parents were loving and kind throughout my life, but I would be hard pressed to tell you the dates of their passings, or even the years. I do know that I am always bouyed by their memories. I feel fortunate to have attended relatively few funerals over the course of my own life. I have also long clinged to the belief that human life “matters more.” Certainly I am sorry if your cat or goldfish meet their maker, but a pet is not a person. There is not an equivalency. I have always felt this way. My rules and rankings have been tested recently, with the sad news that our family dog, Prince, has passed away.
My dog experiences have all been very positive ones. As an elementary schooler I was able to parlay my mom’s decision to “go back to work” leaving me as a latchkey kid into the leverage that I needed to get “Lucky” my very first dog. A mutt from a litter across the street. Lucky lived up to her name, and lived with my family and I from grade school until just before I went away to college.
There was a pet-less period for about 10 years. By the time in my late twenties that I had established my own household along with my then wife, we found “Buddy.” Buddy was an absolutely great dog. Buddy a fantastic personality, and actually, shades of “Dr. Dolittle,” while I was unable to speak directly to Buddy he could hear and clearly understand human language. I remember this most vividly during a rare raised voice argument. The then Mrs and I were going back and forth about something, Buddy took in the full discussion…
