bout de papier, Vol. 7, No. 1 (1989), p. 11
by Laurel Pardy
It is unlikely that there is a parent in the world who has not at one time or another been beseeched to add a pet, either furred, feathered or finned, to the household
Foreign service parents are no exception and so wither there be TCK’s (third culture kids), there be TCP’s (third culture pets). Even knowing the difficulties of transportation or the trauma of leaving them behind, parents succumb to the entreaties and acquire, not only dogs and cats, but monkies and marmosets, parrots and pirhanas, iquanas and tarantulas.
One such family had a son with a passion for Ophidians, who lined his room with fish tanks and filled them with snakes. At one memorable dinner party, the guests were invited to leave their wraps in the “room on the landing” and “please, don’t tap on the tanks.” Just as dessert was finishing, said son entered and indignantly demanded, “Who opened Fred’s tank?”
I sometimes wonder if they ever identified me as the coward who neglected to retreive a blue silk shawl that evening.
Not being immune to the entreaties of our children, we acquired on one occasion two hand-me-down pets — an unfixed male German shepherd and a mixed breed tomcat. If the life and loves of these two could be translated into people talk, it would be banned from every bookshelf in the land.
The German shepherd was totally indiscriminate and repeatedly escaped from the compound in pursuit of any passing lady love, returning home only to have his wounds stitched and receive his shots of penicillin. As a deterrent to thievery, he was useless until we started keeping him inside the house at night.
We inadvertently discovered how to triple his effectiveness after one of his amorous adventures ended in disaster. To keep him from licking his stitches, we cut a hole in a bucket and shoved it over his head. The sight of a large dog, in full voice, charging the fence with his head encased in a red plastic bucket not only stopped casual visitors in their tracks, it put passers-by to flight on the footpaths as well.
The tomcat was no slouch either; however, the difficulty with him was that he took a passion for me. To this day there is a certain vanity chair on the veranda of a certain SQ which emits feline territorial warnings every rainy season.
Children rarely understand that guests might not tolerate their exotic friends with as much equanimity as their parents. Couple that with the nasty habit animals have of expressing tension by relieving themselves and one has a hospitality disaster waiting to happen. The fears of a colleague were realized one evening when their daughter, a budding biologist, brought her menagerie into the dining room to say good-night.
The innocent foursome consisted of a blond cherub in a pink nightgown, one chameleon and two grey African parrots. The angel in pink calmly kissed her parents while the chameleon disappeared into the flower arrangement and the parrots flew off to roost on the ceiling fan from whence they dropped plaudits onto the lapels of the guest of honour.
A quick flip of the fan switch took care of the parrots but the chameleon continued to rock contentedly on a flower stem throughout the remainder of the meal. He was waiting no doubt for a stray moth to be attracted by the lights and, after all, if the dining table was good enough for us, it was good enough for him.
Travelling with pets is equally as constrained as travelling with young children. The organization of flights, stopovers and arrival procedures, not to mention cost, requires hours of careful planning. Despite this, from time to time, the unexpected can happen.
During a self-congratulatory moment while waiting takeoff after a stopover in Rome, a colleague glanced out the window only to see his Great Dane taking off down the runway on her own with three attendants in hot pursuit. In an effort to contain the situation, he leapt from his seat and started pounding on the door, demanding to be let out.
Unaware of the reason behind his actions, some of the other passengers became alarmed and raced to add their demands for immediate exit to his. Somehow the door was opened and he ran after the men who were running after the dog, beseeching them to stop chasing her and let him retreive her. Thinking he was asking them to run faster, the whole entourage tore off across the tarmac in an excess of helpful exhuberance.
Eventually, all was restored and the flight finally departed several hours late and several passengers short.
Insects make interesting pets, too. Half a dozen dung beetles joined our household for awhile. They make very quiet pets and they can travel in pockets, but they are hard to feed and frequently disappear into corners. Dung beetles are also clumsy fliers and tend to flap about crashing into things.
At a dinner for some visiting Canadian parliamentarians and their wives, these beetles were introduced to human social life and were found not to be naturals. It also proved that humans do not always respond well to close encounters of the third kind. Only two of the beetles were ever found again.
As a general rule, furred and feathered outlast finned and otherwise in terms of longevity. However, in terms of affection, furred and loving outlast them all. It is not uncommon for furry children’s pets to become furry parent’s pets, a factor not to be overlooked when the “Please, can I have a puppy, please” litany begins.
View the original scanned pages →
Originally published in bout de papier, Vol. 7, No. 1 (1989), p. 11. Read the rest of this issue →
