Would you sell your sister?

My two kids are each other's 'besties', but when they are fighting like two mangy alley cats their answer to this question would probably be yes. But the question is simply a metaphor inviting you to ponder the following scenarios.

Pets are often considered very much a part of the family and, often, I think they are actually more endearing than family members. That being the case, most normal people would perish the thought of voluntarily relinquishing their pet for financial gain or to honor some type of contractual obligation. Any reasonable person would not commit to a pet if they new they would have to give it up. 

Could you imagine purchasing a wee little fluffy puppy, feeding it and nurturing it for 12 months and then handing it over to a complete stranger. I can't imagine that anyone would ever willingly put themselves in that situation. But people do. They really do. Not so much with dogs and cats, but with other animals.

'A pet is for life' is the common mantra of animals welfare groups and they have a very valid point. If you accept the responsibility of ownership of a living, breathing organism that is dependent on you then you should damn well look after it until it, or you, takes a last breath. I know very well that this is not always the case and that there is a sub-set of lower human life forms that acquire a pet without thinking through the commitment required and then abandon it for the most insignificant of reasons. But that is not what this is about. I am talking, here, about people willingly opening their hearts to a pet that they know they will have to give up.

Lets first consider the pets that reside in the shallower end of the emotional pond: the reptiles. Most Australian’s acknowledge that things are done a little differently in the Northern Territory but let us not be prejudice.  In the NT you are allowed to purchase a crocodile from a licenced supplier and keep it as a pet in the middle of suburbia. The only caveat is that you have to surrender it once it attains a certain size. So Territorians purchase a little snapper, fall in love with it, feed it and watch it grow and, the minute it hits 60cm in length they have to give it up to whomever it was purchased from. Wouldn't you save yourself the pain and just not get the animal in the first place?

A similarly bizarre behaviour is common among amateur herpetoculturalists: people who keep reptiles and amphibians as pets. In Western Australia laws allowing people to keep reptiles as pets were only passed in about 2003. So for many years thereafter keepers were very limited in the number of species they could choose to have as pets. As such, unique variations in colour morphology were all the rage. It was not unusual for a keeper to hatch a snake, that was quickly integrated into the family as besotted pet, only to swap it a few years down the track for the same species of snake a slightly different colour. I know, I was one of those people. Make no mistake, we loved our animals and spent obscene amounts of money on them, but for reasons that I can't imagine would extend to the family mutt, we traded animals like they were baseball cards.

At this point you are thinking that my argument is a little shallow because it is based on pets that are generally regarded as having zero ability to express affection and are not at all altruistic in their emotion. Well then, let us consider horses.

Meet Blacky, and Emma. Both are part of a good friend's family

It is no secret that horse people are a little obsessive. I am fairly certain the average horse owner would dismember, with a spoon, any person that represented a threat to their beloved ungulate. The connection that a true equinist shares with their horse is hard to define, suffice is to say that it is deep. But horse people will sell their animals if they desire to do so, no matter how strong the bond is with the animal. 

I have a friend who is a competitive show-jumper that has dominated the local scene for many years. In 2012, at the age of 23, she was given the opportunity to compete in Europe. Her sponsors paid the $25,000 AUD to transport her horse half way around the world. Before she left, I asked her what she would do for money if she chose to stay on longer than her sponsors were willing to support her and her answer was concise and direct: she would sell her horse. Now this is a horse that she had grown up with. A horse she got as a foal when she was a teenager. Her horse was an extension of her body as a rider and jumper, but he was also a companion that gave her peace and solace and kept her grounded (her words) as a teenager and as a young adult. In fact, this horse was not a pet; it was her best friend.

After two years on the European show jumping circuit she has returned to Perth and I caught up with her the other day for a coffee. I told her that I had been pondering the conundrum that she faced when she left and I asked her what had become of Blacky. Yes, she had sold him, but uttering those words  out loud almost immediately brought a tear to her eye. It was easy to see that this would have been the hardest decision she had ever made, but it was a choice she had to make to enable her to do what she had aspired to do as a child. It was a very mature and practical decision she had made that carried with it a massive emotional burden. Imagine having to deal with that? 

So next time you gaze into the eyes of your fur child spare a thought for those that choose to love an animal knowing that, one day they will have to let it go. Cue music score from 'born free'.