We are not, I am sorry to say, animal people.
But not by choice. Husband is allergic, and I mean deathly allergic, to cats, dogs and horses.
And so: we are not animal people.
Don't get me wrong. I love my husband and would never trade him for a cat. (my personal preference). But sometimes I am sad that I don't even have the option to own an animal. I am sad that my children will all grow up never knowing how wonderful it is to have a pet around. Someday we may get a fish. Personally, I am pushing for a rabbit, but I don't think that is going to happen until we get a garage. But there will be no dogs running around the house and no cats curling up in bed and snuggling with my kiddos. And I feel they will be a little deprived.
I grew up begging for a cat. Literally begging. You can ask my parents, they will agree. I had a cat calendar one year and when the year was over I cut all the pages out of the calendar and hung them all over my room. My walls were covered in cats. With the occasional wildlife animal. (yes I know. I was a complete and total dork. i'm just trying to paint the picture of how much I wanted a cat.)
I asked for a kitten every single Christmas with no luck. To this day I really don't know why my parents never obliged me on that one. Because when we did get a cat it was so spur of the moment and no one had any second thoughts. My dad found a kitten at the church and brought it home. (apparently people think that the church is a good dumping ground for unwanted kittens. he found them all the time. this was the only time he brought it home.) I came home from school and as we were waiting for my dad to unlock the front door, through our front window I saw a cat run down the stairs. And I started screaming. Loudly. And nonstop. I think the cat's first impression of me was one of terror. But let me tell you how I loved that cat. He was my baby. He slept with me. He followed me around. He tolerated my dressing him in doll clothes. (that only happened on Halloween. i insisted he have a costume.)
Our whole family fell in love with that cat. He died about 2 years ago. He was old. He was sick. And even though I hadn't lived at home for seven years I cried and cried over that dumb cat. And the sad thing is no one can get a cat to replace him--not if they want my husband visiting them.
And so, since I married this man, I have had to change my ways. I am no longer an animal person. Because if I still was one, if I loved animals like I used to, my heart would break just thinking about never having a furry member of the family. So I protect my poor heart by filling up the hole with love for my husband and my children. But still, sometimes, I can't help but wish that we were animal people.