Furry Pigs (and what they've taught me)

I grew up with animals. Not the normal kind, like a cat and a dog.

Ohhhh no.

I wanted a dog though, I begged and prayed endlessly as a child for a puppy, but because we moved around a lot, my wish never came true. What I really wanted was a friend to take with me, one I wouldn’t have to leave behind, but as many military brats know, dogs were just not conducive to our family's life. By the time we knew we were staying put, I was 15 and it was too late—I had college to think about in a few short years by then. I’ve always held on to that disappointment though. I held on to a tiny bit of resentment towards my parents for not understanding how much that meant to me.

So I never got my childhood dream pet, but my parents really were animal lovers. My mom grew up with dogs and rabbits and even a monkey named Squeaky (oh the tales we’ve heard about Squeaky) and my dad grew up on a farm. Because of this, they compensated with almost every other alternative for us. We had snakes, lizards, gerbils, hamsters, rabbits, ferrets, turtles, spiders (yes, tarantulas as big as my hand that we weirdly named ‘fuzzy’ or ‘teddy’ or something cute like that). You name it, we had it—and always more than one. Our house was always an interesting zoo and we always had little furry or scaly friends.

When I married my husband,(also in the Air Force) I was eager to pick out our first ‘child’. It was going to be a tiny doggie that I could dress up and carry around, and sleep next two whenever my new husband was away. I dreamed about this doggie, I even came up with names, but I was quickly devastated to find out that we were stationed in one of the only cities in the US that didn’t allow dogs in any apartments (we later found out was due to a city-wide flooding tragedy in 1997 that led to many pets drowning in apartment buildings) and no way could we afford to buy, young as we were, and just starting out. Within the first year of our marriage, I was happy to have my Love by my side, but I quickly found out that real life would be no cake walk. We were blindly trying to figure out each other our first year as husband and wife, and I was fresh out of college, separated from family and friends in the coldest, flattest, least diverse place in the US with only my consuming master’s studies to comfort me. I started to get depressed, especially as I missed my friends weddings, birthdays, and other family events that I was so used to being a part of. Eventually, my psychologist recommended a cat as an ‘emotional support animal’ (Yep, that’s my 7 year old Ragdoll kitty’s official title) I really wanted a puppy, but once I got my Dakota, I fell in love instantly, and my fur baby really did bring me joy.

Fast forward 5 years later, we had just had our second child, and the time just seemed right. So we adopted the most adorable puppy in the entire world. We named him Rexus and we did everything for him, from obedience classes, to clicker training and posh doggy daycares when we traveled, but within the first year, we knew that our Rex was not a good fit for our family, and we were not a good fit for him. The interesting mix of breeds (Sharpei, Labrador, Pit) made him incredibly loyal, the ultimate goofball, and very intelligent and easy to train, but it also made him impulsive, high-strung, clumsy, and protective of his own. I stressed out every day trying to fulfill his needs while keeping my kids and myself safe from all 50 lbs of Rex. When I got pregnant again, I was too sick to even take him out on the leash to pee, and I knew he would not be able to be around a newborn. We were forced to re-home him. My very first puppy, the dog I waited 30 years for, we ultimately had to give up. We were blessed because he actually went back to live with his birth mother’s family and their several dogs, and he is happy and loved to pieces. But I miss him sometimes. The kids talk about him sometimes. And I feel like I failed him often. My lifelong dream come true and it didn’t work out. It made my resentment for not getting a dog as a child grow as it taunted me with my failure. I don’t know if my heart can take another dog anytime soon but the most interesting thing happened this summer…

Enter Minnie (named by Mikah) and Pig (Named by Zech)! Yep, they are Guinea Pigs-- a brand new type of furry for me—basically giant hamsters with a little more personality and they look terrified 100% of the time—but they have stolen our hearts this summer! Zech, who was mostly afraid of Rex and is generally indifferent about Dakota, LOVES his Pig, and it warms my heart to see him light up for this little thing. He even kissed her once! Mikah, of course, tells her Minnie daily how much she loves her, and can’t wait to see her in the morning and say goodnight as we read a book (with the piggies in tow) together. The kids feed and water the piggies (they live in Zech’s room) and make sure they have everything they need. I even like to hold them on my chest and stroke their adorable little heads as they make that *sound* that Guinea pigs make, after the kids go to bed. When Kyle is gone for months, the house can get quiet and lonely (Dakota, being a cat, is always hit or miss for company) and these little gals are surprisingly good at filling a little bit of the void.

After my failure with Rex, I feel like this is one of the best decisions I’ve made for the kids and for me. Taking care of these little gals is the FIRST chore I have been able to get them to do consistently! Then I started thinking about how blessed I was to grow up with parents that got us little critters, taught us to care for these little lives that were not our own, and showed us how to appreciate God’s littlest creations—even the spiders and the snakes. My mom told me yesterday, ‘tell my grand Guinea Pigs hi for me’ and just like that, that old resentment and anger that I held onto melted away like ice in the hot summer sun. Just. Like. That. It is taking a while, but little by little, God is working on me—and he’s using the strangest little creatures to do it! It goes to show you that your plan, no matter how steadfast you are, no matter how long you've had that plan, isn’t always God’s plan.

One day we may get another dog, but I want my kids to grow up with these memories and experiences with little furries and scalies, just like I did. I want them to rescue turtles from the road, and move (harmless) snakes into the shade, so some terrified soul doesn’t murder them, and I want them to avoid killing bugs and other critters in their natural environment, no matter how icky they look, because that’s what my mom taught me. Here’s to Minnie and Pig Hunter—you showed me something about myself that I may never have known, and you’ve helped me let go of a disappointment and resentment I’ve held onto for almost my entire life.