When animals and children get together

“I have to take the cat to the vet,” is one statement I never thought would come out of my mouth, ever! But two Saturdays ago I found myself having to ask my air condition technician to make haste with his work on my units because I had to get Ginger Wilde, the flea-ridden, emaciated kitten my son and his friends had rescued from some thorny bushes, to the vet before 1 pm.

I have never been an animal person. It’s not that I hate animals and I would never intentionally mistreat one. It’s just that I have never had any burning desire to want to bathe or walk a dog, allow a cat to jump in my lap or brush up against my legs, or sit and have a conversation with a parrot. My son, on the other hand, has a love for furry, feathered, scaly and otherwise friends that often makes me wonder if he is actually my child.

He’s had many pet fishes and bawled like hell when they died. He’s had a rabbit, Mrs Sniffles, whom he spoiled and cuddled like an actual baby whenever she would let him. One day he found a baby frog in the back yard, named it Benjamin and refused to set it free until I was able to convince him that Benjamin needed his mother. He once tried to nurse an injured lizard back to health and was inconsolable when the little creature died. He was the doting father to his cousin, Ali’s duckling, Cheep Cheep who eventually, I think, succumbed to their smothering, and he never hid his envy when Ali got cute baby chicks to make up for her loss of her duckling.

For years he’s been begging for a baby brother or sister, and cat or a dog. I’ve always responded with a “no” because for the former, another child is out of the question, and for the latter, I didn’t think he was ready for such a responsibility and suspected I would be the one taking care of them in the end. But when he and Ginger Wilde’s other "fathers" took the time to rescue her from what seemed like a life of deprivation and begged to keep the bedraggled kitten that weighed a little over a pound, as tempted as I was to hold my ground, I couldn’t say no to the pleading eyes and mournful meows. I caved, and now she is an established part of the family. And I have to say, they have been taking their roles seriously. Ginger Wilde lacks for nothing.

According to an article in Psychology Today, researchers have found that children raised in families with pets were reported to be generally healthier than those without pets, are more physically active, are less moody, and have higher cognitive and social skills.

Psychologist Elizabeth Anderson, in her book The Powerful Bond Between People and Pets, wrote, “Nothing less than alchemy is involved when animals and children get together, and the resulting magic has healing properties that work well.”

But what is the link between pets and such positive development in children? Maybe it’s the unconditional way in which animals love and the non-judgemental way in which they interact with their young owners. Or perhaps because they offer comfort, support and a listening ear, especially to children without siblings. I have looked at and listened to how my son, an only child, forms friendships with his pets. He loves to talk, and they, somehow, make for great listeners. The other day I heard him singing to Ginger Wilde as she sat comfortably in his lap, and when I enquired about the song, he said, “I just made up a special song for her, like you did for me when I was a baby.”

And because she has become so dependent on him, he has learned what every tone of almost every meow and her body language means. He can tell when she is hungry and when she is scared. He knows when she needs some “love up” and when she just want to be left alone to play with her piece of blue ribbon or to chase the dried leaves being blown about by the wind.

I once read somewhere that owning a pet helps children gain confidence and become more responsible. That something as simple as entrusting small children with the responsibility of filling a bowl with food or water for their pets, can help build their self-esteem and prepare them for bigger tasks later on – a theory that I have seen come to life with my son and his pets. For although he may not be the master of responsibility in other aspects of his life (he will get there eventually), when it comes to his "children" he is right up there. And his level of confidence sometimes blows my mind and frequently causes me to wonder if he is really my child.

Ginger Wilde, who feels it is her right to lounge around and be waited on all day, has grown on me. I often find myself talking to and playing with her, and one of my first thoughts when I wake up on mornings is that I have to feed the "children". Maybe it’s because I’m turning into a cat person, or perhaps it’s because I’m grateful that she has, for now, silenced the request for a baby sibling.