will I ever learn?

Adaptation of life-writing extract for Masters.

Pets
It is a fearful thing to love what death can touch. Anonymous

My son’s always hankered after an animal. Space was lacking in our Edinburgh flat, justifying our decision not to have a pet. Now living in a house in a France, we buy two gerbils, a source of delight and fun.
We purchase two more, thus signalling their demise. The new ones die six days later, so we buy another, then two more, then two more. They all perish eventually. Their vulnerablity is a susceptibility to bowel parasites so the vet dispenses medicine to syringe into their mouths. On several occasions we spend hours resuscitating sick animals. One night, urged by my son, I sit up with an ill gerbil, frequently peering into the cage at the bundle of straw, wondering if I should disturb it to check the gerbil is warm and alive, or leave it in peace and hope it is both. When the last one dies, partner and son in attendance while I sleep, prior to turning up for the final night shift, I cry buckets, both for myself and for our son whose grief remains internalised.












Dogs have given us their absolute all. We are the center of their universe. We are the focus of their love and faith and trust. Roger Caras.

We believe our son would still like to have a pet. Something more robust. Dogs are bigger than gerbils. A dog will take us out for walks, complete our drives into the mountains. We adopt a beagle/griffon from a refuge. Sorcha’s a delight, affectionate and brimming with character, her only downside being a penchant for disappearing. My partner’s never wanted a dog; he knows the drawbacks. Within an hour of Sorcha’s arrival, he’s ensconced with her on the sofa, stroking and patting, and this becomes a nightly event. She sleeps by his feet as he works, follows him around the house, her devotion unquestionable.
Disconcertingly, however, we realise we aren’t really a DOG family. We can’t leave Sorcha on her own for long and we worry about how we’ll manage with her in our Edinburgh flat. As the one pushing for a dog in the first place, I berate myself for my inability to have thought this through. Eventually we find a new family for her.











Sequel:

Still believing my son would like a pet, I pushed for guinea pigs but got nowhere. On our past two visits to France we have housesat and looked after cats, the latter proving more pleasurable than we'd anticipated. On Sunday we purchased two eight week old kittens from the Lothian Cat Rescue. Mischa and Sasha are settling in well - from their perspective. The advice is to introduce the animal to one room at a time. At the moment, they have the freedom of our kitchen, a cosy, homely space with infinite possibilities for exploration. They pee and poo in the basket acquired for their sleep, ignore the cat litter tray despite our attempts to familiarise them with it, and sleep at the side of the sofa or the space between the washing machine and fridge. They frolick on the sofa and cushions, on the exercise stand and by my partner's trainers. Early days though...






Wonderingly yours

Jane