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Originally Posted by blueflame  He says that the owner's state of mind (fear, insecurity, aggression)is easily picked up by the dog and is reflected back. It is so true! Anyone else found purpose in an animal? I would love to hear your story! |
This thread is so old, but I want to tell about my pet too, because I didn't know there were other people who felt this way about their pets. Her name was Bitsy and she was my little ferret, 1993-2000. I got her in Sweden from a man who raised ferrets for hunting rabbits, before they were kept commonly as pets. She kept me alive during the 7 years of her life, for I would have died otherwise, but I could never stand the image of her finding my body in the apartment or of leaving her alone or with someone who didn't make sure she was ok (ferrets are like 1-2-year old children and you have to ferret-proof your home so they don't get hurt, lost in the building walls, or dig the dirt in your plants all over the floor)
She was my happiness, she became much like me early on, I guess unfortunately - she wasn't very social with other ferrets, they seemed to only fight with her, she was quiet when she was being hurt, like once I was trying to close a closet door and it wouldn't close, and I looked down and there she was caught in the door - she didn't make a peep.
She made me laugh so much, for her curiousity got her into so many strange places - like she fell in the toilet twice. She was little, playful and cuddly and especially cute and funny when she got angry. She would get angry at me every time we moved, and we moved a lot and I felt bad about it. She was gentle and kind, not mean or biting like many ferrets are (except she had this thing for nipping toes, hence her name - she mostly grew out of it).
When she became sick, she couldn't breath and I remember lying with her on my chest and she was inside a little sleeping bag I had knitted for her that she loved to sleep in. Her little face was poking out the end and I heard how she was having trouble breathing and I began crying. She began to lick the tears off my cheeks and it made me cry even more. When I had to put her to sleep at the vet's, she was in my arms, but she wasn't dying, for a long time, she wasn't dying, but convulsing in my arms. Tears were streaming down my cheeks. The second that I looked up to say to the other person there, "why is she not dying??" she died in my arms - somehow my attention was holding her there. She loved me.
Thank you Shamou, for showing me how to post a photo.