This week the Long & Short Reviews link-up asked for it. Animals I wish I could have as pets include most of the animals featured in the Petfinder photo contests, and many of the ones who just weren't photographed well enough.
They are, of course, domestic pet species--dogs and cats, with occasionally a bird, gerbil, rabbit, horse, or ferret. The prompt might have been intended to ask about other species. Are there other kinds of animals reviewers would like to keep as pets?
There are. Cheetahs have actually been kept as pets. Their coats aren't soft and caressable like domestic cats', and they're not great snugglers, but they're seldom aggressive and can be led out hunting with their humans, like dogs. I've often thought it would be fun to keep a pack of cheetahs. Then I remember that I've never been hungry enough to take much interest in hunting.
From time to time someone tames one of the big felines and, while lions, tigers, and leopards present too much risk to humans for me, the medium-sized felines, bobcats and lynxes and British wild cats sometimes become real pets.
Wolves, American coyotes, and Australian dingos hybridize with domestic dogs easily enough to show that it's only tradition that counts them as separate species. It's an old American tradition, though. In our indigenous nature stories, Wolf is a leader and teacher, while Coyote is a trickster, troublemaker, and nuisance. I've never heard of a coyote becoming a pet. Coyotes seem to be mean and sneaky by nature. Wolves and dingos seem to be loved by those who live with them. They can kill humans in a fair fight, and if they're hungry enough they've been known to eat babies, but they seem to prefer to be humans' friends. I've never felt that I was in a position to give even a big dog a permanent home, but I have always liked big herding dogs. Wolves are basically the strongest and generally the most intelligent breed of herding dogs. People describe them as guardians and protectors when they keep wolves as pets.
One of the sisters once adopted a dumped-out goat. It was male. Male goats are notorious for sneaking up behind people and butting us with their heads. The goat was called Parkay because he was not a real butter. I liked Parkay. I've not gone out looking for a goat but I'd consider keeping a goat as a pet.
I have liked other people's pet ferrets. I've never thought seriously about keeping a mustelid as a pet, but I was fond of Pepe and Hepzibah, the resident skunks, and might consider keeping a ferret or a tame skunk if its human had died and left it to me. Mustelids are said to be clever animals who need a lot of attention and mental stimulation to suppress destructive impulses. I am probably not the ideal person to leave a ferret to. It would probably start to distract me from writing by gnawing on my shoes, or books, or legs.
Llamas and alpacas don't often thrive in my part of the world but they are adorable animals. It's hard to understand anyone not wanting to have a pet alpaca, until reality interferes and says that the alpaca would probably become ill.
I never have felt any interest in having a pet monkey. With elephants I can understand the attraction, but exotic animals other than llamas and alpacas don't generally appeal to me.
Reptiles do not become real pets. They can become familiar with humans who feed them, and a harmless little gecko or chameleon can be very cute. And I did grow up in a house that had a resident snake; Gulegi has never been a pet, always kept out of humans' way, but living with him has taught me to think of snakes (if non-venomous) as friends. Not pets. I've gone to wildlife demonstrations where tame serpents were passed around for everyone to touch. I know that handling most snakes feels like handling a snakeskin purse--only with living muscles under the skin--maybe more like a snakeskin shoe. I just don't think there's any benefit to either species in training snakes to feel familiar with humans. Their brains aren't wired for love and loyalty. Most snakes don't grow big enough to start thinking of their humans as food, but the history of large pet snakes is not encouraging.
Birds, however, can become pets. People who live with parrots have often described what parrots did learn to say, how and when they said it, in a way that suggested that what the parrots really wanted to learn to say was "Take me back to my own country and help me find my family please."
I can't imagine parrots or even parakeets really wanting to live among humans in cages, though my parents often told the lost-and-found story of the parakeet who'd been their pet before they had children. He was a friendly little fellow, but sassy. He learned to state his name and address in a few weeks. He learned to say "You come here, you stinker, you!" after hearing it once. He didn't learn to say "Mommy loves the baby bird" for years. It was almost as if he knew he was a full-grown daddy bird, even if he and his mate hadn't built a nest. And one day during his regular free-flying time he flew out a window and lived on his own for a few days. Nobody could find him. The'rents had given up when a hurricane blew past. While people were clearing away the wreckage, a wet, bedraggled parakeet came back and tapped on the window. When the window was open, he went straight to Mother and said penitently, "Mommy loves the baby bird." Then he gave his name and address. He had observed that he wasn't likely to get back to Australia, and accepted his cage as home..
Wild native birds don't have any real need to bond with humans so they seldom do, but they do recognize familiar humans, by face and voice. One of the more memorable of many pleasant days when my husband and I watched the birds at local parks occurred in Bladensburg. A strep infection was going around at the school where he taught. My husband felt feverish and wanted to lie in the sun while I walked around our birdwatching route. I looked at the birds, taking mental notes to share with my husband, and the birds looked back at me. And as I left the park a gorgeous Rainbow Bunting perched on a hand rail, three or four yards ahead, and uttered a long, complex "song."
Photo from All About Birds. Rainbow or Painted Buntings are a little smaller than cardinals. If he'd perched on my hand, my hand would have been longer than he was.
"He was saying 'What happened to your mate? Why is he not with you?'" I reported.
Wild birds tend to become ill from overfeeding and nutrient imbalances at parks where people feed them. I understand the point of trying to keep wild geese, swans, herons, etc., wild. And birds' instincts don't always make them ideal friends to have; one thinks of Audubon's friend who was proud of having bonded with a Great Blue Heron, then noticed the big bird eyeing the baby in a predatory way. And their habits and lifestyle aren't always very congenial with humans, either; tame hawks can be gentle and cuddly with their humans but it's generally a good idea to wear leather when working with hawks, and people who've bonded with crows report having found their hands covered with little black bird lice after first handling the birds. Nevertheless something about the idea of bonding with a wild bird has always appealed to me.
For someone who was brought up and trained to help other people recognize differences among helpful and harmful insects instead of wanting to kill anything that has more than four legs, I don't really like insects or spiders. Not close up. I know which ones do and don't bite or sting. I don't like to touch or be touched by any of them.
The animals I've wished I could have, though, are animals that do well in my part of the world, but who are either too big or too small to be easy for me to keep. Chickens are too vulnerable. Horses and dogs need too much space, attention, and money. Even cats outside the family might not fit in as residents here. It has taken a long time for Serena to be willing to share my lap with her own docile daughter.
Recently I saw another calico cat, a Manx who might have been bigger than Serena, apparently abandoned at the McDonald's that is so conveniently located beside the interstate highway--a real tourist trap. The cat bounded away in the direction cars were going, obviously thinking, "Where did my human get to? Must find my human," not heeding the voice of a stranger, not interested in food. I felt for the cat. Bring her home to stay with Serena? Even if she'd come when I called, I was thinking, ain't no way. Serena loves kittens and has liked some tomcats, but the fraction of her that is Manx is my Manx and feels, deep down, that as she's a one-human cat, so her human ought to be a one-cat human.
There will never be another cat like Serena. (Thank goodness.) I will never bond with another cat in the way I've bonded with Serena. I like other cats, though, almost every day; care about them, wish them good homes. And I like dogs.
Here are some animals who have been pets, in search of good homes, that I wish I could have as pets.
Chicken & Amber & Ember & Vespa from NYC
Does not make it clear which kitten has been given which name or why, but actually I wouldn't mind being able to keep all four.
Meg from South Carolina by way of DC
Daphne from Blountville
Nectar from Chattanooga by way of Atlanta
Dali from California by way of NYC
The point of these Petfinder posts is to boost the signal of these animals' appeal for adoption, so it's a good point that he's in California. Dali is listed as an out-of-town pet who can be delivered to several places in the US and Canada. They'd probably add Mexico if the law allowed it. I don't want to inflict a week-long road trip or an airplane trip on a dog. I want some lurking reader in California to think "...but I really can adopt him, or foster him, or sponsor him for someone else to adopt." Anyway if I were in a position to adopt a dog, this dog appeals to me.
Alex from Texas by way of DC
Gia from Blountville
Quinn from Hilton Head by way of Atlanta
Says she is NOT good with cats, so she couldn't actually be my pet. Says she seems to need another dog for company. Somewhere Out There a dyed-in-the-wool dog person needs to meet this dog.
