The Soul of a Cockroach

I did not grow up on a farm, but I did grow up in the farm country of Iowa.  Most of my friends and some of my relatives lived on farms.  My mother spent her formative years in the country with cows and chickens and chores.  Farm mentality, when it comes to animals, is quite different from suburban pet mentality.  The very thought of treating a dog or cat with chemotherapy would be unimaginable.

We did not have pets when I grew up, unless you want to count the series of dimestore turtles the year I was seven, or several goldfish my sister got in sixth grade.  They met a dramatic, untimely end at a science fair, but that's another story.

All of this is prologue to my train of thought today.  My unconscious, unquestioned attitude about animal life placed people at the top of the pyramid, housepets a distant second, farm animals next, and the rest of the animate world simply as window dressing.  Though I knew people who loved their dogs and cats, I never knew anyone who was truly committed to animal welfare until well into my middle years.  Come to think of it, it's probably when I started hanging out with lesbians.

One of my earliest arguments with Jill, back when we were getting to know each other, was over the rightful place of animals, and the theoretical question of whether animals have souls.  It's a silly thing to argue about, souls in anyone.  How can it be settled, after all?

Over the years I've come to accept her at her word, that she actually likes animals better than people.  We've negotiated some tough decisions and undoubtedly will face more as our menagerie continues to age.  I have come to respect that she follows words with action: she used to carry a shovel in her truck to move or bury dead animals killed by cars.  We send money every month to an animal welfare charity. And the only times I've seen her really angry with our dogs is when they kill and bring home trophies in the form of birds, mice or even rats.

I will probably never have anywhere near the devotion to animal life that she has, but she has taught me by example to be a much better companion-animal mom than I was.  And I may continue to choke on the extraordinary amount of birdseed that every bird in North Raleigh finds at Chez Jill, but I am grateful for the quiet moments we spend watching and listening to wild birds every day.

As for souls, I'm not even convinced that people have souls, let alone dogs, cats, horses, robins, cheetahs, guinea pigs and snakes.  And mosquitoes?  Flies? Cockroaches?  Don't get me started.