Poem:
A Pet Store
Through the pet store window,
There is mother, father, child, me
And every little animal
For every little person.
They do not have names,
Nor to their descendents owe.
They are born to breed
For the pet store to show.
“No we are not evil” we cry,
As we pay for our pets.
“We will have and name and love them”
And one day bury them too,
And we’ll beg for and buy another,
Because it’s just the same thing.
They are always at the pet store,
They do not have names.
The pet store is empty
For us, nothing to see
No, that pet store is empty
Almost as empty as we.
Story:
Today I went to Pet Land, a pet store in my town that has a wide array of cats, dogs, birds, rodents, etc.. The whole kit and caboodle. I intended to go play with the extremely overpriced purebred dogs with a good friend of mine as a conclusion to our last-minute holiday shopping spree, so that we were both too broke to even remotely be able to buy a dog and too exhausted to go through the adoption process. Yet in an unexpected turn-of-events we decided to hang a left in the pet store and look at the birds instead (I've been having a serious parakeet obsession in recent months, and have seriously considered getting one). As we passed by the different cages and attempted to get a parakeet on one of our fingers, we eventually noticed the extensive selection of painfully cute, fluffy, soft animals in the rodent section, and, here's where the problem begins.
You see, we were certainly unable to afford a puppy, but smaller animals...So, we were walking past the ferrets, and the guinea pigs, and the hamsters, and the...bunnies. Bunnies are notoriously cute and fuzzy with a hint of novelty, as they were known for their inclusion in Easter, but nothing could prepare my friend and I for the deadly adorableness of these little, four-month-old rabbits. We told ourselves that it couldn't hurt just to touch one, pet one, hold one and so on, but one little guy with all black fur aside from his white belly and bottoms of his paws, was just too cute for comfort. It wasn't that he was the most unique (actually all of the other bunnies had some distinguishable quality like curly fur or orange spots), or the most active or chill, or that we especially wanted a male, black-furred bunny, but it was the way that he was so comfy in our arms- so playful when he scampered around in the little designated play area, the way that he just instantly bonded with us.
Alfred. It was our first mistake to hold on to him for more than a minute or so, it was our second to name him (which actually didn't take all that long, so perhaps that's even worse). But, Alfred seemed to be the one. We just sort of knew, But I think I first mentioned it; it was some sort of combination of Prince Albert (I binged all of the British royalty documentaries on Netflix with her the previous night) and whatever thoughts in my head combined it with "Fred". We spent the subsequent two hours cuddling and playing with Albert and rationalizing to ourselves the sudden need for a bunny, and how we could care for him (and take him wherever we go). We even got the staff to start calling him Alfred, and they all wanted us to take him home. Of course, all good things must come to an end, and we had a teary departure from Alfred by the end of the evening. It truly was a little heartbreaking.
Now for the really upsetting part. We both knew, as soon as we looked at Alfred, that we couldn't take him home. The name, the holding, the desperate calls to our family for support- it was all partially, or maybe even wholly, superficial. That isn't to say we didn't want, with our whole hearts, Alfred; in fact, we very much wanted him. But we wanted the part of him that bonded with us, his spirit, if you will. What we didn't want is a bunny. It was necessary for our families to disapprove, for his price tag to be too high, because we couldn't care for a bunny, we just wanted him. I'm definitely not a spiritual person, even though I have been religious in the past and have also attempted spiritualism, but I think the idea that we want the spirit of something to be around us can hold true to many people, and I think it's the primary reason people want pets, or maybe even end up with them by chance. This was the case with Alfred.
To start, We really weren't capable of getting Alfred. With each of our financial situations his price tag and expensive living requirements, which included monthly costs of food, vitamins, and bedding (minus any treats, toys, or emergency vet visits), were just too much. It is infinitely frustrating when love for an animal is restricted by the animals price, and Pet Land was not cheap. And another bunny at another store isn't Alfred; it isn't the same. We can't just expect replacements to be just that; fillers to the little pit animals leave in your heart when you can't have them as your companion- for any reason. It's hard to expect another bunny to be the same, and by no means is it just to frivolously buy another bunny just so we could have one- in doing that we forfeit the spirit of that new animal, because we expect it to be just like Alfred.
To Pet Land and many other similar pet-retailers, that want for the spirit of an animal is means for profit. The endless number of pet mills, where the leftover dogs from places like Pet Land are forced to breed under dismal circumstances until they are no longer able to so that purebred dogs and cats can be bought at designer prices, have no regard for soul these animals possess. They care not for Alfred, they care for his price tag. When we buy from Pet Land, we support the blatant disregard for life that pet mills have for life, and support the idea of designer pets, which shows that we (yes, our collective public) value one spirit over another.
I don't blame you if you have ever bought an animal for the happiness they bring you; no matter where they came from. I can understand the uselessness of data and facts and research when you find an Alfred. It hurts to think that I won't let myself buy Alfred from a store that supports the corrupt institution of pet milling. I know that my protest won't end pet mills, and I fear that I'm a worse person for not keeping that little ball of fluff from an unknown fate than I am for leaving an wishing him a good one.
BUT I IMPLORE YOU:Do not search for an animal because of the novelty. Do not find an animal if you can not care for it properly. Do not find animals as replacements, they are all unique. Do not get an animal because it's pure bred. Do not ignore the spirit of these creatures, and recognize how fragile they are. I hope someone finds Alfred, knowing all of the above information, and has traveled from store to store to adoption center to rescue center, and finds in him his spirit.
Afterward:
Disclaimer(s): This entire post deals with materialism and what having an animal means. I don't want anyone to feel attacked for finding or owning animals, but I have made my opinions clear (I hope) and there is a very specific group of people who I really wish wouldn't stand within a 20 foot radius of an animal without apologizing first.
Another thing: I don't think anyone working at Pet Land is evil just by working there, and sometimes even people who know the inner workings of the company just work there to make the animals as comfortable as possible to detract from the circumstances the animals came from or might possibly get sent back to. What I have a problem with is someone who supports pet mills, works for the corporate side of Pet Land and similar companies, and people who actively try to push sales onto people with knowledge of where the animals come from. In fact, what I really want is a sort of coup d'etat where all of the workers ban together and destroy the pet mills and save the animals and protest for a better system... \something tells me there;s very little chance for that, though.
And just a little thing: I also understand if you want a certain type of dog or cat, like hypoallergenic ones or different-sized dogs or cats, because it definitely relates to how you can care for them. I really think that shouldn't be the primary motivating factor when getting an animal though, and you should be prepared for whatever animal calls to you; as I mentioned before, I really wanted a parakeet, but Alfred's spirit was in bunny form (if that even makes any sense.
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