CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Word Count: 724
Do you have any pets? Would you like some (more)? Why/why not?
I have never had any pets. My aunt was not one for animals, having grown up largely in a period, within a family, who considered them a waste of money. My mother liked animals, and so did my father, but they probably had wanted to wait until I was a little older, I suppose, so they could have married in my first pet with learning my own responsibilities and important life skills. I simply do not like animals in great and special lengths, so finding no use or desire for one of them, once I had the ability to, I never did get one, or more. I actually find nothing at all endearing or actively purposeful about a cat, a dog, or any other thing, any other animal, which requires feeding, care, love, attention and all the other relevant things required of pet ownership. I don’t find cleaning up an animal’s food dishes, backyard or litter trays a significantly good use of a time that could otherwise, without animal, spent doing something more useful, elsewhere.
I do not deny that some people derive useful moderations of happiness and contentment out of owning a pet, or pets. I have read studies and articles that have perfectly made clear that animals can be of a great therapeutic, emotional and even physical benefit to those who chose to own them, or in the case of service animals, actually require their assistance. However, because I am not disabled, and because I have no desire or other need to own one, I am perfectly content with having no pets at all. I am not a person who would be able to derive happiness and satisfaction from something I consider, for myself, to essentially be a big waste of my precious time. Working as long and as hard as I do, it is the least of my internal desires to have one more living thing, with which to occupy my already busy schedule.
Perhaps I am being misunderstood. I do not like animals, as far as me owning an animal is concerned. I, myself, find them useless and a waste of good time and resources, needing food and vet bills, creating pointless conversations, competitions and clutter. This being so, I do not hate animals, I have certain beliefs pertaining to the conservation of the wilderness, to breeding programs and the preservation of species, but it still does not mean I am going to go out and attend all the tree hugging animal sympathising rallies that there are. As far as I am concerned, Grissom and his team are enough havoc for me, and if owning an animal, even a small one, is anything even comparable to having to clean up their disasters, then I’d very much prefer to just get on with my own life.
When I was young, I knew a street mutt named Scrappy. Not named by myself, I would see it wondering around the neighborhood as I walked, explored, climbed trees, doing all the things I normal boy of my age could do. Scrappy, in due course, as a result of having no home or owner, was run over by a speeding car. There was the detritus of death all over the road that day, blood and innards, jaggedly ripped flesh and an eyeball hanging out of its socket. People came, people collected the body, people went, the mess was cleaned up by whoever or whatever cared or was assigned to the task. As it is with many pets, even those who aren’t run over, there was no modicum of dignity or responsibility in that dog’s death. Pets are pets, once they are too injured or too sick to go on, they are put down or done away with, and life moves on, even after so much time and effort has been put into their ownership.
To be honest, I am not God, nor do I intend to play God for something, an animal, that will never know how small or insignificant it is, whose destiny is simply to die and leave me behind to clean up the mess of a life it did nothing with. By all means, people can own pets, they will love and adore pets, and find use of them, but I am not one of those people, and I never will be.