My children were raised in the country. And a must‑have in every country home? Pets. Lots of pets. We had a constant revolving door of stray animals. The kids had pets from the moment we moved out of the shelter. Rowan especially loved them — still does. If it made a noise, he’d imitate it. Sometimes it was hard to tell whether I was hearing the actual animal or Rowan. Autism or not, that kid has always been a savant at sound effects.
We started with a “normal” pet when I bought my first mobile home. There were mice, so the solution was a cat. Much more appealing than mice. But not just one cat — of course not. Each child needed their own. Everything always came in threes, at least at first. When the cats became dogs, I put my foot down at one. That was plenty in a single‑wide, two‑bedroom mobile home.
But when we moved into a much larger house, all bets were off. We had room for more than one, and the kids knew it. They convinced me that since their rooms were big and they were older, caring for their own pets was a great idea. I agreed to hear suggestions — that was my first mistake.
They “gave” the dog, Roxy, to Rowan since he was attached to her and she acted like his personal bodyguard. Benjamin begged for a lizard. “Nothing big,” he said. It would live in a tank in his room, and he’d take good care of it. I agreed on one condition: it NEVER left the tank. He agreed, and Hiss came to live with us.
Avery asked for fish. Easy enough. I got her the full setup. She chose to put the tank in the living room so Rowan could enjoy it too. He loved watching them swim and tried to name each one. Then Rowan asked for a chicken. He could cluck better than any chicken I’d ever met, but I wasn’t letting a chicken in the house, so that was a hard no.
Those were the pets I knew about.
There was also the baby deer “hiding” in Ben’s room. How he got it into the house still baffles me. He claimed its mother rejected it and it would die if we didn’t care for it. I let the game warden handle that one. Avery, meanwhile, was constantly sneaking dogs into her room — as though I wouldn’t hear the barking. I knew it wasn’t Roxy; her bark was deep. These were the yappy little toy‑dog barks that make your eye twitch. Avery never admitted where they came from, only that she “found” them.
There were also squirls, a ground hog, bunnies and a baby bird. We had our own personal petting zoo, courtesy of my children. I kept their rabies shots current.
Avery now grown, lives alone with her four cats. She calls them my grandchildren because she doesn’t want her own. Ben lives with me and has adopted one of the cats I got for Rowan. Karma and Jinx — my twisted sense of humor after the year I survived.
So yes, after decades of chaos, smuggled wildlife, and questionable “rescues,” I’ve finally reached the calm stage of life: being outnumbered by cats instead of children. I’ll take it.
Still standing, Karma and Jinx by my side,
K.
I'm Still Here. Somehow... 