Lesley Crombie has a change of heart...

 

I was brought up in a family that actively loathed animals – all animals – without prejudice: two legs, four legs, no legs. And any human who willing possessed a pet that didn’t have wings or fins was deemed asylum material.

Looking back now I think fear bordering on phobia was probably at the root of it. As a kid I remember thinking it weird not that my mother herded us back into the house in terror after seeing a grass snake in the garden, but that she locked the back door afterwards. 

I myself had a bit of a soft spot for birds – which accelerated my hatred of cats to the top of my most despised animal list. Unfortunately cats didn’t feel the same about me. Whenever I went to a cat household the in-house moggy would always make a beeline for me, plonking itself on my lap and refusing to move all evening. Much as I would have liked to tell pussy to piss off, politeness always prevailed. 

One day, in a room full of twenty people, I experienced the sudden realization that the black cat clawing lovingly away at my new pair of tights to get my attention was doing so because I was the only person in the room who felt negatively towards her. She merely wanted to ingratiate herself. So cats had egos too! How very human. How very interesting. 

From that point onwards I ceased to view animals as one-dimensional, brainless life forms that made my skin crawl, and instead began to value them as fascinating, manipulating and wise companions, capable of giving comfort and joy. 

I now have two guinea pigs, one dog, two cats, three terrapins, one tortoise and a garter snake. They compensate for the fact my family rarely visits any more.

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