Pets

First of all, someone needs to buy me THIS so that I can carry it around with me and leave it on people's kitchen floors.


Now that that's out of the way, on to the intended post...

Last week, my roommate's goldfish suffered a stroke (no pun intended) mid-swim. At least, we think it had a stroke. It started shaking violently, and then could only swim using the right side of its body. Being that goldfish are extremely fragile creatures, we knew that it didn't have long to live, and indeed, this weekend it finally died. Though I wasn't home, I understand that it was given a nice burial at sea.

To be honest, I was glad that I wasn't there for that.

For as long as I can remember, I've had this phobia of dead animals. It actually goes beyond the realm of sadness or disgust, and straight on to fear. In fact, I have these reoccurring nightmares in which I have to walk across a street...except this particular street is filled with road kill from sidewalk to sidewalk.
But even something as small as a dead goldfish is enough to just paralyze me.
When I heard that the fish had died, and my roommate disposed of it accordingly, I was relieved at that moment that I didn't own a fish. I would never have to decide what to do with a body (to flush, or bury?), or come home to find it floating at the top of the tank.

And then, I realized with both horror and dread: I own a hedgehog!! I suddenly felt envious of my roommate, that all she had to do was lift the fish out with a net (she didn't even have to touch it), drop it in the toilet and flush. But you can't flush a hedgehog. Can you?

Yes, I own a hedgehog. His name is Koosh, and I treat him not unlike how a parent would treat a child. Having been used to cats and dogs all my life, I never thought that a small animal could be affectionate or intelligent; nor did I ever think that a small animal could become any sort of companion in the same way a cat or dog can. Koosh defied all of my expectations of a small animal. He was smart enough to be litter trained just like a cat; he accompanies me on long drives, quietly relaxing in a blanket on the passenger seat. He even curls up right next to me whenever I take a nap in the afternoon. And yes, he wears hats.





He's such a big part of my life, and I can't imagine life without him. The unfortunate side to this, is that I know that know one day I will have to live without him, as a domestic hedgehog's lifespan is only 4-7 years. Right now he's almost 2.

Anyway, this brush with death got me thinking about what is going to happen when Koosh dies.
So I did some research to see what other pet owners do when their pets die (how to dispose of it, do you take it to the vet, bury it etc.).
What I found was incredibly disturbing. At least to me.

Somehow, I came across a site for taxidermy (the site linked at the very beginning of this post), which featured a winged kitten. I was both horrified and fascinated at the same time. For some reason, my phobia of dead animals does not extend to taxidermy. Although I think I would be physically sick if I ever had to touch a taxidermied animal, it's something I've had a weird interested in ever since my dad first took me to the Museum of Natural History. I remember being 4 years old, and gazing in wonder at the dioramas. When my dad told me that there were real animals in there, I was absolutely amazed.

So on this particular website, I saw that they did price quotes for "pet freezing." Freezing? I had no idea what they were talking about. So I googled it. Apparently what I was looking for was "freeze drying" - a process in which all of the water is slowly removed from a dead body in order to perfectly preserve it. People actually do this to their deceased pets. They actually spend hundreds of dollars to do it too.

I suppose a small part of me understands why people would do this. But only a really small teeny-tiny fraction of me. The other, much larger part thinks this is completely insane. I wonder if these people would even use this process on dead relatives if they could. I thought taxidermy used as trophies or gaffs was pushing it slightly, but taxidermied animals that bear an emotional attachment is just too much for me.

On the freeze drying website above (petpreservations.com), I noticed that some customers had sent pictures and stories about their decision to have their "friends" freeze dried. One story in particular - the story of Suggie - touched me the most (or at least the beginning of it did. It tends to get more insane as it goes along). It was so sweet and sad. It even made me tear up a little bit. I totally understand what it's like to love an animal that much and to feel the need to see them or hold them again. I think that losing a pet is harder than losing a person in some ways. I've unfortunately experienced both instances, and while they are both sad, it's extremely disheartening to me that pets never understand what's happening to them, especially when they're put to sleep. Despite how traumatizing and truly upsetting losing a pet can be, I feel that the pain you feel in the end is somehow worth the time spent with an animal who was that special to you. In all my years of pet ownership, I've realized that no one except pets are able to love so unconditionally. They don't judge...they just love. Sadly, I know that I'll inevitably lose Koosh one day to illness or old age, and the loss will be profoundly felt, as he holds such a special place in my heart.

But it's a comfort to know, that although I will be sad, I won't necessarily have to miss him - as long as I have enough money, and a large enough mantle over the fireplace, I can have him freeze dried and prominently displayed in my home. Forever.

Well, that's all for today. Now I'm going to go do some research on how or where I can get me a pet raccoon!