Managing responsible pet care with a busy family life can be an awkward balancing act. When meeting the daily needs of the pets begins to feel like a nuisance, it's time to re-evaluate whether they're raising or diminishing the quality of life in the home, and whether your home is likewise doing the same for them. More than once in my home, our poor pets have been reduced to one more thing to check off the daily "to-do" list every morning and night.
This dilemma has exposed me to yet another dimension of mom guilt: pet guilt.
We have two dogs. With an aching heart, I've patiently explained to our 10-year-old that he will, one day, be a great dog owner, but that our family doesn't have the capacity to add another dog.
"It's important that we have the time to care for and train a dog," I've told him, over and over. "Puppies require constant care and attention. We don't have the ability to do that right now."
I'm pretty sure this has him hoping one of our two old dogs -- who are the same age as him -- will suddenly die, making room for the puppy he so desperately wants to own and care for. A boy and his dog is a quintessential rite of passage. A first love. And here I am, holding the line and saying "No."
My blended family is a mix of parents and children who each met at different stages in life. The presence of the old golden retriever and Australian shepherd mix in the home preceded the elementary-aged children by a lifetime. They didn't grow up together. They don't really know each other, not the way a boy and his dog should know each other.
Animals help children develop in positive ways. They provide comfort and unconditional love, nurture loyalty, affection and empathy, and teach responsible behavior and respect for other things, according to the American Academy of Child and Adolescent Psychiatry.
"A child who learns to care for an animal, and treat it kindly and patiently, may get invaluable training in learning to treat people the same way," the academy said in a May 2013 article on pets and children. "Children raised with pets show many benefits. Developing positive feelings about pets can contribute to a child's self-esteem and self-confidence. Positive relationships with pets can aid in the development of trusting relationships with others."
But, this doesn't happen merely by plopping a new pet into a home. For pet ownership to be a positive experience for children, children need supervision, encouragement and to be taught how to responsibly care for animals. More than solely meeting basic needs, responsible caretaking should be about developing bonds.
Before my human family came together, before I had children, I spent a lot of time with my dogs hiking, taking walks, lounging around together. The comfort of taking a nap with a dog tucked into the curl of one's knee is calming and warm. I miss it. Now, extra space on the bed goes to my partner and children, who provide sweetness and joy of their own. The dogs have been demoted, relegated to sleep on the floor and out of the bedroom.
I never expected to one day grow marginally fond of our pet fish, which showed up on the kitchen counter after a shopping outing I had not been a part of.
"Oh great," I thought. "Just one more thing to try to keep alive."
In a house already full of people, two dogs and one cat, this blue- and green-hued betta fish seemed like a ridiculous addition. I rooted for the cat to take an interest. She never did.
Morning and evening bickering ensued about whose turn it was to feed Bubble Fish. The 2-year-old couldn't stand to only feed six microscopic food pellets to the fish at mealtime. Within days, Bubble Fish looked less vibrant. He frequently floated motionless with the current, listing, near the top of the tank. But then, just when you'd expect it had finally died, it'd burst forward, circling the tank at top speed.
Keeping tabs on Bubble Fish was stressful. Each morning, climbing the stairs to the kitchen, I wondered if this would be the morning we'd find it dead. I worried whether we had slowly poisoned it with untreated water. Had we slowly frozen it with unheated water? Overfed it? Did we overstress it with our constant rotation of colored lighting? I grew to resent the fish and the extra boost of daily anxiety it brought.
About two months after it came to live with us, I came home one afternoon to an empty fish tank. My toddler explained that "Bubble Fish went to find his mommy." My wife explained that the fish took a long sea journey, departing down the toilet, to begin the search for its mom.
The empty tank has remained on the counter, untended, over the holidays. The kitchen seems lonelier now. The kids loved that fish. I loved watching the kids love that fish. That fish has reminded me to slow down and return to a better way of being with all of our pets.
Feeding our old dogs or the cat shouldn't be a chore mandated by a stressed out mom in drill sergeant mode. It should be a loving act of caretaking. My kids know this. But they're kids -- it's my job to help remind them, to show them the way. To lead by example.
I've previously written about the importance of doing less in daily life so that you have more time to enjoy life, more time to do well the things that matter most. It matters to me that our dogs and cat are loved and cared for, that they are given attention and not treated as a burden. For a while now I have willingly prioritized people over pets. At the time, this was a necessary, good decision. But it felt wrong.
In its own weird way, Bubble Fish, the unwanted betta, led me back to the relationship with our pets that I value and which had been out of alignment. That poor fish may not have survived 2015, but it provided a great lesson on which to begin 2016.
Pets are good for children and adults alike. We need to take time to dole out an extra scratch behind the ear, a pat on the butt, a snuggle, a walk. We're modeling caretaking, and the kids are watching.
We're out $5 for the betta that didn't make it. But its overall worth? Priceless.
Jill Burke is a longtime Alaska journalist writing from the center of a busy family life. Her father swore by "Burke's Law No. 1 -- never take no for an answer." Meaning, don't give up in the face of adversity. The lesson stuck. Share your ideas with her at jill@alaskadispatch.com, on Facebook or on Twitter.
The views expressed here are the writer's own and are not necessarily endorsed by Alaska Dispatch News, which welcomes a broad range of viewpoints.