Pets (and why I will never have another)

I do not own a pet nor will I ever again.

There was a time when I did own pets.

There was even a time, way back, when I owned four… count ’em, FOUR… cats.

I’ve had goldfish and turtles. I even had a snake once.

No more.

To this day, in all my life, my best friend in the whole world was a black Labrador retriever named Trista.

The day Trista breathed her last was the day I vowed I would never own another animal, domestic or otherwise.

When she passed away at the age of 13, I came as close as I probably will ever come to having a nervous breakdown.

Relatives of mine have died and I did not weep and sob as much as I did on that day.

I cannot and will not bring myself to do that again. I seriously don’t think I’d be able to handle it.

In the aftermath of Trista’s death, one by one over the course of a few months, I murdered all the plants in my house. All save one, which I tried to kill through active ignorage. The little thing… an aloe… seemed to thrive on neglect.

Eventually, months and months later, I tossed a small glass of water into it, partly out of pity and partly out of curiosity as to what would happen. Within 24 hours the aloe had perked up and started showing signs of life, as if nothing had happened. That spiky-edged little twerp earned her place in my home.

Eventually, I started to do the same.

Riposa in Pace, Trista.


This evening, Friday April 6, at sundown is the beginning of Passover. It is by far my favourite holiday.

I will be leaving for Toronto Friday morning.

This blog will shut down until after Passover.

I hope to return Monday April 16.

Until then, may you all have a meaningful and spirit-filled holiday season.


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