Seeking Sentience
by Rebecca Crichton
I moved into my rental apartment seven years ago. The complex where I live allows animals, but I didn’t get one—although I know all the dogs in my building and seek opportunities for a dog-hit from their owners.
Over the years, I have had pets of various kinds. Two dogs, multiple cats, and the variety of small pets conducive to raising children—Puck the Parakeet, Howie the Mouse, Snowy the Rabbit.
I haven’t had a pet since the death of my last cat, Zen the Hugging Russian Blue, who loved everyone (men in particular). The night after his death, the women’s choir I belonged to sang “I’ll Fly Away” in his honor.
Ten years after Zen’s death, I discerned a pet-sized hole in my full and busy life. I missed a sentient being to satisfy my need for interaction and affection.
The obvious contenders—dogs and cats—shared issues related to scratching, shedding, exercise, need for interaction and damage to things I love. To say nothing about vet bills. No matter the problem, I always wound up spending at least $300 for my beloved companions’ health and well-being.
I finally decided to look for an older cat who hopefully didn’t need to scratch anything but a discreet scratching object and loved cuddling. Still, I wavered.
When sharing my dilemma with my sister, who lives in Fort Collins, Colorado, she asked if I remembered Picasso, her pet gerbil from a decade ago. How could I forget Picasso?! He had two home aquariums and traveled weekly between Denver and Fort Collins in his traveling plexiglass cage. Wherever my sister went, Picasso came along. His cage would sit on counters ranging from dentists’ and doctors’ offices to the bookstore where my sister worked part-time. When someone peered in to see him, he would emerge from whichever burrow he was hidden in and visit with them, scratching the cage with what we took to be pleasure.
Everybody loved him. I joked that my sister could make some extra money by taking him to retirement communities or senior centers for people to enjoy.
Her reminder caused a sudden flash of Gerbil Awareness! A pet gerbil would take care of my need for interaction without too much disruption of my life.
While doing my gerbil research, I had a moment of confusion reading the sentence: If you get more than one gerbil, make sure they are the same sex. “Why?” I asked myself. I felt myself blush when I figured it out.
Having determined that the nearest gerbils were only five minutes away at a nearby shopping complex, I invited two friends who are always up for adventure to go gerbiling with me on July 4th.
Two hours later and $250 poorer, I emerged with two look-alike brother gerbils, a large reptile aquarium, and the various necessities for feeding, housing and amusing my new pets.
We established the right place for them at the end of my kitchen space, in front of a window, and able to be seen and interacted with regularly.
The right names for them popped into my head a few days later – Good & Plenty.
As in all things requiring interactions with sentient beings, there has been a learning curve. The more I read and discuss my new pets, the more I discover what I didn’t know that I need to know.
I now know they need to have at least eight inches of bedding so they can dig burrows and construct tunnels; their bedding should have hay to give their tunnels structure. They need to chew and can demolish toilet or paper towel cores in less than 15 minutes.
They are endlessly curious and are becoming increasingly affectionate and interactive.
When I mention my guys to friends, I discover how many people have stories about their children’s small rodent experiences – vents and closets, drains and other unexpected hazards have played a role in many people’s lives. They might even have been the first direct experience of death for their young owners.
And for all the same reasons that these small creatures are favorites in elementary school classrooms, they are good pets for older adults. Contained and easy to care for. Low on vet bills and high on recycling paper products. Interactive but not demanding. Not likely to have personality disorders, although how would you know?
My gerbils keep providing me opportunities for metaphor and learning related to aging and connection. Among them: the likelihood of my gerbils outliving me is low. They live two to four years, so might not need to be passed on to new owners if they do wind up without their parenting elder.
The important aging task of letting go can be practiced small scale with these sweet beings. Attach and let go…a life lesson we keep learning.
There are more that occur to me each day. Engaged as I am in my life in general, Good & Plenty have provided me with plenty of good in a very short time. To say nothing about how easy it is to be punny!