I don't really get pets
I don’t really get pets.
We never had one growing up, and I never expressed any desire to get one. Other family members and family friends almost all had dogs, and from as early as I can remember, I was terrified of them.
To me, that doesn’t need an explanation. From my vantage point, I don’t understand how someone can’t see the threat a dog poses. I am particularly uncomfortable around what I call ‘active’ dogs, those dogs that run around quickly, jumping up and grabbing at you for attention. Don’t get me wrong, I also don’t like small dogs. Too yappy. The only dogs I can really abide are old, slow, placid ones. I couldn’t even tell you a breed that fits that description.
One thing I do not enjoy is people’s reaction to the discovery that I don’t like dogs, or really understand the pet connection. Some earnestly tell me the old cliché that I might not like dogs, but I will like their dog. Update: I don’t. Some, for which I am very grateful, acknowledge my discomfort and take reasonable steps to alleviate it. Many thanks!
Others take it upon themselves to point out my discomfort, highlighting it as something of a moral failing or a lack of emotional intelligence.
I am trying to learn to be more accepting. I am glad that some people feel such a close connection to their pets, and I acknowledge that for many people, those connections are meaningful and indeed sustaining. All the best to you.
But if I discover you have a fear of heights and I invite you to my house, I rarely (if ever) proceed to make you climb on the roof and perform some form of acrobatics display. That would be unkind, perhaps even inconsiderate!