A quarter of a century ago, I thought about pets primarily as means of young adults getting ready to be parents. Learning to deal with other beings' excrement and need for food, recreation, etc. Learning to manage one's temper when another being gets riled up out of an understanding that failure to do could have feedback effects on the other. Etc. etc.
Our cats are getting older. In recent months Rascal had been puking a lot, more or less on an every day basis. I had discovered that some seltzer did a pretty good job at getting it out of almost everything, and indeed may have underreported this to Mary while she was away in Alaska just because she would have freaked out a little. By November it was getting old, so Mary took her to the vet and discovered that Rascal was hyperthyroidal and that there was a treatment for this: rubbing a cream on the inside of her ear for every day FOR THE REST OF HER LIFE. Fortunately, it seems to be working for now and we are now on a vomit-free streak of a week or so. Also, the cats are being much more productive in the litter box of late, I'll leave it at that. There's a clear understanding around the house that the cats are old (14 or 15) and may not be with us forever.
All of which leads me to believe that pets have the additional function of normalizing the over life arc within families. Watching pets live out their lives prepares all of us, and kids in particular, to experience the deaths of loved ones.
Not a particularly deep insight, but one that was drilled home this morning as I scooped the litterbox and carried out a bag that had been filled up in two days. Of course, there's also a positive interpretation of that. Rascal had lost a lot of weight due to her hormonal imbalance and may just be eating more to regain weight. Also, both the cats have been drinking heavily from the sweet sweet piney water of the Christmas tree, which will soon follow its own lifecycle and exit the home.
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