no heavy petting
By lula elias
hybrid columnist

i was born without my pet gene.

there's nothing you can do to correct that type of deficiency. you can't swallow vitamins or take hormone shots or get outpatient surgery for it. the good thing is that i can still lead a pretty normal life. no one could tell just by looking at me that i'm missing my pet gene. oh, they might notice that i pull back when their beloved bulldog jumps, tongue akimbo, in my general direction or that i don't coo and cuddle with their everlovin' calico.

most people love pets and beg for pets from their parents by the time they can form sentences. some even make mini zoos of their homes with all kinds of fauna in abundance--from fish to parrots, from felines to doggies, from turtles to hamsters. i recently heard of a woman who was carrying a pet hedgehog around town in her purse.

i try not to reveal my pet reticence since it is such an unpopular preference to have. if people think homosexuality still has a stigma in some circles, they should try being an apetual. i remember a former boyfriend's mother telling me, unaware that i was a member of the heinous group of which she spoke, that she would never trust a person who didn't like animals.

it's not that i don't like animals. i just don't want to spend quality time with them. if a creature doesn't know how to use a flush toilet, i don't want them dwelling in my home. i know this makes me sound like a heartless wench, but having a live animal under my roof gives me the heebies. and it's not like i haven't tried it. the aforementioned boyfriend, who i temporarily shacked up with, would never change his cats' litter boxes, so it was up to me. i bought their kibbles. i ran late to work making sure they were safely in the house. you see, i do have some kitten kindness within.

maybe it's because i'm a germphobe and i think of animals as not the most sanitary creatures to have around. my mom swears that a dog's mouth is cleaner than a human's. makes it tough to explain dog breath. maybe it's what you can't smell that can hurt you?

despite canine halitosis, in the two-party system of "dog people" and "cat people" i'd have to claim a closer association with the former. i don't trust cats any farther than i can swing them. i think it all goes back to the really cheesy horror movie i saw on tv when i was about ten that featured cats who killed their masters. i just remember hissing attacks and blood on a refrigerator door. that'll put you off a species real fast.

cats are shifty creatures who will stare at you with contempt, ignore you, and then turn around and rub your ankles and mew as if you are the center of their world. they're manipulative beasts and i don't like game-playing with anybody, much less a four-legged furball whose urine evokes the scent of hades.

someone once asked me if i hated animals. of course not. i understand their right to exist. i'm glad that they bring daily joy to others and even save lives by dialing 911 and finding people down wells. even my black, black heart is charmed by baby fidos and felixes, just not enough to take them home.

my parents have a welsh terrier who has become their third daughter. that doggy can do no wrong and charms the pants off them both on a daily basis. i've learned to like the little mutt myself and even pet her with something resembling affection on occasion, but we're not close. i think she and i have come to an understanding. after the initial arrival greeting where she quivers like an off-center blender, she gives me my space. she has my other human sister to play with and chase around the house, so she has a full, happy life despite my pet intimacy issues.

i've wondered what i would do if i ever fell for a guy who was a diehard animal fan. maybe love will turn my head enough to make me pro-pet. you never know. maybe in my golden years i'll soften toward the feline set and become the crazy old cat lady on my block. everyone needs a gimmick.

grandmastersass@hotmail.com