Pet Rock

So, I love rocks right. Like really really love them, and I thought I could not be more committed to them. I live and breathe rocks starting from the time I stumble into my bathroom with its marble topped counters littered with crystals and shells collected over the years (need I mention the rest of the house), to my geologist job where there are all things earthy, dusty and aged in the order of millions, to the rock on my finger. No one could love rocks more right? Wrong!! Heard about a “pet rock”?

Well, we have a pet at home whom we love dearly. Timone. He is a year old poodle that we got for our two kids, he doesn’t listen, he pees everywhere, he stops to poop when I take him for walks (embarrassing sometimes for me holding his leash while he’s doing his business and someone happens along), he gets sick sometimes, he’s Sir-farts-a-lot (though I sincerely believe half those Airwick-worthy (www.airwick.co.za) moments are thanks to the boys), he hides bones everywhere in the house and he is a licker. Going for holidays is never fun when I imagine poor little Timone in a kennel all alone wondering why I left him with strangers. But I love him to bits, and he loves me too.

Along came Mr. Dahl with the “pet rock”… I kid you not. A pet rock. “In April 1975, Dahl was in a bar listening to his friends complain about their pets. This gave him the idea for the perfect "pet”: a rock. A rock would not need to be fed, walked, bathed, or groomed; and would not die, become sick, or be disobedient. He said they were to be the perfect pets, and joked about it with his friends but he took the idea seriously…. (Wikipedia). Interesting concept. It actually took off with a bang and made Mr. Dahl a rich man and gave many a lonely person a companion who is very good at listening and all the lovely qualities of a pet rock.

 

Personifying inanimate objects is not foreign to anyone with a good imagination. We do so to plants or a glass of wine (after downing a couple of cause)…my sister’s friend is known to say “mhoro doro” (loosely translated to’ hello beer’) before taking the first sip of each bottle of her favorite cider. I guess I have 'pet rocks' lining most shelves in my house, I just need to talk to them once in a while.

I still believe I love rocks but if my pet was a rock, would it be cuddly and be all excited when I drive into the garage? Timone is always so excited to see me when I get back home from work. When I step out of the car its like he barely knows what to do with himself with excitement and that makes me feel great. It’s the loveliest feeling of being so missed. It’s like the excitement I see in my son’s face when he is opening a present…. I get to be my pet’s present every single evening and that is awesome.