> The biggest part of pet ownership to me is the unconditional
love that (mostly dogs, sometimes cats) show their owners.
Being met at the door by a wagging tail and a stupid doggy-grin
are joy-inducing. Taking Rover for rabies shots is not. True,
giving your pet a bath can be a bonding experience. But I don't
buy that cutting that part of the owner-pet relationship would
somehow harm the overall relationship. Seems like it's just
more time for frolicking together in the back yard.
>
> It's really the same reason why I don't understand fish as pet.
I had fish once. It was stupid. Fish don't meet you at the door
with unreasonable joy at the fact that you're home. Fish don't
curl up on your lap while you're reading a book. You can't pet
fish, you can't hold fish, and you sure can't sleep with a fish
(well, you can sleep with the fishes, but only if you cross the
mafia). And yet, you STILL have to clean up after them (not as
much as dogs and cats, but the tank needs cleaning
occasionally) and feed them. All the drawbacks of pet ownership
(in my mind), and NONE of the benefits. Worst. Pet. Ever.
>
> -- Dave


'Pologize if I'm saying something someone else already said...
for once I'm not reading the whole thread.

While I completely agree with you, Dave, that fish are the worst
pet ever, I think that as an example they contradict the point you
were trying to make with them.

I had a notoriously tortured relationship with the fish I had in
college. I felt constantly guilty that I wasn't taking good enough
care of her, changing her water often enough, feeding her the
right amount... it was ridiculous.

BUT, and this is the point, it was the necessity of taking care of
that fish that forged the bond we had. She was dependent on
me, for food, for health, for keeping her water warm enough.
She could do none of that for herself... if I didn't provide for her,
she would starve to death in mucky water, and that was that. I
got precious little out of the deal, except something pretty to
look at. But, oddly, the real benefit I got from having a fish was
that very responsibility to her.

Not like in a little-kid way "this will teach him the value of
responsibility, especially when the thing goes belly-up because
he never fed it"... but just having something in my life that
needed me. I hated it, most of the time; it was a nuisance and,
as I said, a never-ending source of guilt. But still it needed me.
There was a living thing in the world that would die if I did not
come through for it.

Independence is such a strong value in our society that the value
of dependence is often belittled or ignored. I won't belabor that
point... it's probably a whole other thread's worth. But bonds of
need in one's life are, I firmly believe, important, and enriching
in a way no other bonds can quite be.

Anything else I have to say about that, Sam already said much
better.

Tangent: I find it interesting that people keep talking about the
*effect* on them that having an artificial dog would bring. Sure,
if you give me a furry barking thing that's warm and greets me
enthusiastically whenever I come home, I'm likely to develop an
affection for it no matter what it's made of. (Then again, I could
develop affection for a doorknob if the mood was right.)

But doesn't it make a difference to you that you *know* the
thing isn't alive? Even if you have absolutely no means of
perceiving it, doesn't the reality behind the perception matter? I
know this is a trend that has been around in modern thought for
a long time, and it disturbs me. I cannot fathom the mindset
that takes belief or perception as an equal substitute for reality. I
don't care if I can't tell it's not a real, living dog. I know it's not a
real dog, and that's enough to ruin it for me.

Lire"all the same, there was a great feeling of relief when that
stupid fish finally expired"lyn