I'm not up for the hurt HM.
That was me for a while. I've had far more cats than dogs in my life, but I suppose it really makes no difference - pet animals have a way of becoming part of the family. And it seems like, no matter how long they live (a few of my cats have made it past 20), we seem to feel almost as if they're our children. And not just that, but our
young children - which makes that final day that much worse.
But then I realized... most every organism in the universe is going to die at some point, and that's certainly true for the animals that we are familiar with, and those we choose as pets - or those that choose us. In the last 30 years or so, all but one of my pets were either homeless strays or "ferals" (the only difference has seemed to be that the latter took a little more careful approach). Because of that... I sometimes find myself thinking, "Never again," but then end up encountering an animal that is, realistically, not likely to live much longer if its circumstances don't improve. So, well, you know... 20 years, lol. That seems like a pretty good trade for the (admitted) blow to the "heart." It seems like the pain is a lot less when I manage to remember that {pet} has had a fairly decent life - and one that has been much longer and more comfortable than would have otherwise been the case. Still hurts, of course. Especially since I don't take the easy way out and pay a vet to "deal with it."
There was one, though... My current pet adopted me at the same time that an older (but by no means geriatric; estimated to be around eight years old by the vet) cat showed up on my front porch. I wasn't aware that I had been "adopted" at that point. It was a cold February, but I see lots of animals all year long, and mostly they manage to survive. It was a time when I was trying (lol) to quit smoking, so I was sitting in the porch swing, having decided to not smoke inside the house at least. So the older one just showed up. I made some verbal noise (said something to it) in a calm voice to let it know that I was aware of it but did not have a problem with it being there. It immediately jumped onto the swing beside me. "Someone's pet," I thought. Absentmindedly, I petted it - and it (turned out to be a he) stepped onto my lap, laid down, and began to purr. Oops, that's their secret weapon and I've just been hit with it... I was still assuming it to be a neighbor's pet. I'd see it, then I wouldn't, then it'd show up again.
Then we had a cold snap. I came home one day and it was less than 20 degrees out. There he was, on my porch swing. A couple hours later, it had gotten
cold. I went back out and he was still there. So I fetched an old blanket scrap, thinking I'd try to cover him up and he'd bolt for sure. What happened, though, was that he acted like a little kid that had just been tucked in for the night. Got up the next morning to retrieve the blanket, figuring he'd be long gone - but he was still there. When he heard me, he raised his head out of the blanket, then relaxed again. Hmm. This went on for a couple days before I realized that he was now mine (or vice versa?).
Then... no cat. <SHRUGS> He went back to his real home. No worries. But then... He staggered onto my front porch one night and fell over at my feet. He looked like someone had tried to skin him and his tail was cut almost all the way through. This not being a large city, there are no 24-hour animal services. Besides, I'm
walking, and with no money in my pockets. So first thing the next morning I borrowed some money (and later, as it turned out, had to "borrow" a good bit more from the nice - but expensive - veterinarian) and called Mom to see if she'd give me a ride to the vet's office and back. She did and the vet, after telling me I didn't have anywhere near what she was going to charge me, offered to let me make payments and kept the cat for surgery/recovery/whatever. Went back a day or two later, got cat, medication, and was told that he was remarkably healthy, considering, but had some minor illness (which cleared up).
So I had a cat. An indoor cat - once I brought him inside, he never expressed the desire to go back out again. Was about that time when I ended up with the other cat. I'd also seen her on the porch now and then, but she was... a bit standoffish? I could pet her, but that was about it. IDK what changed, but suddenly she wanted inside my house - and was determined to get in.
Anyway, to make a long story just a little bit longer... Now I had two cats. They both immediately made themselves at home, as pets do. Turned out their favorite spot was my grow "room." That worried me for a bit, but they were just hanging out in there (the girl was smaller, and liked laying on the soil of a five gallon bucket - which worried me more, lol, but she never used it as a litter box). Time passed...
Then one day, I heard the older cat make some horrible noises all of a sudden. And "thump," he fell over dead, right in the middle of my grow space. That kind of tore me up for a while. I mean, yeah, he was nearly dead just before I brought him into my home, so even he lived longer than he otherwise would have, but... IDK.
I've seen a lot of pets advertised for sale (at the most silly prices imaginable), and have often thought, "I'd like to have one of those." But I wouldn't buy one, even if I could afford to. I
assume that such critters eventually go to live comfortably in circumstances where the "owner" can do things like choose pet food by something other than price, actually write a check for vet services when needed, et cetera. I'll restrict myself to the unwanted, abused, and unfed - and try to remember that they're going to live just as long as they're going to, and not a day longer, and that there's only so much I can do about it. And hope to remember that, however long that turns out to be, that the life is better than it would have been had they not chosen me.
So I hope, if circumstances end up meaning that you meet an animal that appears to need a home - and you - that you'll reconsider.
On the other hand, I can understand your "restless ways," lol, and how that affects things. Maybe you'll find one - or get found by one - that is likely to remain small enough to come along for the ride? I occasionally see people riding with an animal along. Wouldn't work with a great dane
, but...
Everything and everyone dies, eventually. It's the time that comes before that really matters. . . .
I gave all but a couple of dozen away, and bought some more different strains. 
I'm hoping for a few hundred and some decent herbage.
Without a doubt the most gassy dog I ever smelt. 
.
The line up will include a Sour Crack, Sour Stomper, Four Assed Monkey, and a Blue Tooth-Special Pheno.
