Caring for pets helps kids grow





BIRD DOG—When a dog-loving woman moved to an apartment that didn’t allow four-legged pets, her husband brought home a parakeet (not pictured), which she named Snoopy.

BIRD DOG—When a dog-loving woman moved to an apartment that didn’t allow four-legged pets, her husband brought home a parakeet (not pictured), which she named Snoopy.

CRITTER TAILS

I’ve always loved dogs.

After years of saying no to my begging, my parents gave in when I turned 13 and allowed me to adopt a little ball of fluff I named Pierre. I loved that toy poodle more than anything in the world. He was smart, loyal and liked to snuggle, all the qualities I’d later look for in a husband.

My first apartment out of college was nearly underneath the 405 Freeway in Sepulveda and did not allow pets. I was heartbroken.

Following an employment opportunity to Visalia, I was able to live in a nicer location, sans freeway fumes, but was still not permitted to share the space with a four-legged friend.

What to do?

One sunny afternoon, my new husband, who wanted to cheer me up and was sick of my complaining, found a local parakeet farm and returned with a young blue budgie in a brass cage.

I was elated and named him Snoopy—a pet dog in parakeet’s clothing.

Lavishing that bird with love, I filled his cage with every toy and treat his little heart could desire.

Snoopy wasn’t a snuggler, but he liked to sit on my finger while I trained him to talk.

He learned several phrases like “Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn” and “Here’s looking at you, kid.”

After we returned from a vacation one year we discovered that the neighbors who had babysat the bird taught him to say, “Bring me another beer.”

Good grief.

As the years passed, we purchased a house and started a family.

Along the way, there were wonderful dogs who all lived into ripe, old doggie age.

Mazel, our first cockapoo, was patient and kind with our first baby boy, who thought she was a pony. Mazel was followed by Lassie the Maltese, who ran away once, forcing us to ride throughout the neighborhood yelling, “Lassie, come home.” She did.

Bambi, the yappy Yorkie, helped me get my four children up for school each morning by jumping on their beds and licking their faces. They never complained.

He was followed by Latte the cockapoo, who is now 11 years old and saw me through difficult times with constant love and devotion.

My newest dog is Beyoncé, the chorkie, a happy little diva I adopted a few years ago from Shelter Hope in Thousand Oaks. She makes me laugh every day.

Snoopy lived for nearly 15 years. When we buried him on the hill in our backyard, each of the kids eulogized him while “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” played softly in the background.

Although I haven’t done the research, I’m convinced that children who learn to love and care for pets become loving adults and responsible parents. My own adult children prove that every day. I’m so proud of them and so grateful for Snoopy and all the other dogs in my life.

Gorback is an author and Thousand Oaks resident. If you’d like to submit a Critter Tail, send it to tonewstip@theacorn.com. Please, no more than 600 words.