Well, I’m pretty sure my parents had at least one cat when I was born. So you could say that was my first pet. But the first pet I remember, and the first one that was truly mine, was a hamster named Herman. I don’t remember how old I was, maybe 7. It was the typical lesson in responsibility and inevitably learning to let go.
I have faint memories of playing with Herman. He was tan colored. Of course I always wished he would just sit still in my hand but he wasn’t having it. I was fairly attached. Thank goodness it was my parents who discovered him dead one morning. I was totally devastated when they told me. I clearly remember lying face down on the couch just bawling. I had to skip school that day because I was such a wreck.
But being young, I got over it pretty quickly. Eventually I got a kitten and all thoughts of my former tinier pet were gone. Our neighbors had a litter of kittens crawling about their yard, and I picked the fluffy dark-colored one that was trying to climb up a tree. And then I named him Fluffy. Not my most imaginative moment. Fluffy deserves much more than a passing mention, but this is after all supposed to be about my first pet, so I’ll stop there. RIP Herman and Fluffy.
Photo by Escursso on Flickr.
This is part of my Get To Know You series.
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