When I was a little girl, all I wanted in the whole world was a bunny. They were so cute and fluffy with their little twitching noses and cottonfluff tails. My parents were, and still are, big animal lovers and we’d had a huge variety of pets when I was growing up, but never a bunny. They talked about it amongst themselves, and then presented a solution to me: If I could prove I knew everything about bunnies, how to care for them and feed them, about common ailments, etc, then I must be serious about having a bunny, and they would let me. I hit the library (this was back before the internet was widespread) and read every single book they had on rabbits. My mother took me to new, “better” library, and I read all of their rabbit books. I read all the rabbit books in my school’s library. I kept a spiralbound notebook with all of my bunny notes. What do bunnies eat? What kind of living space do they need? Can they get baths, and how can I clean them? When do they just have a cold and when they do they need a trip to the vet?/ I wrote a report, and typed it up on my mom’s then fancy, now archaic desktop computer, and even put it in a fancy folder. I got my bunny, who I named Jewel, and I had her for seven lovely years.
I’m unsure if my parents had been trying to discourage my young self from having a new pet or if they were trying to teach a lesson, but whichever the case, it has been a lesson that has always stuck with me. When I got my panda hamster six years ago, I researched all about hamsters, having not owned one since I was a small child, and never having taken care of it myself (being four years old, my mother took care of my childhood pets). When I took on first Luna and then Apollo, I bought a few physical books on cats (being a big believer in books) and read extensively online. Luna and Apollo were the first cats I’d owned as an adult. Aisha I’d had since I was twelve years old, and most of her care had been done, once again, by my mother. Even now, Aisha lives with my parents rather than me, because I did not feel right moving a thirteen year old cat to a new home away from my parents’ cats that she’d known her entire life (Aisha will be sixteen this year.)
So of course, when I found out that the pet store I worked in sold aquatic frogs, specifically the African Dwarf Frog, I mulled over them for months. Did I want them because they were cute? Did I want to put in the time and effort for them? Nothing knowing about ADFs at the time, I assumed they had to live at least two years - did I want to put in the work for at least two years for something that was merely cute?
I mulled over this decision for six months. I saw many frogs come and go from my store. I watched them whenever I could. I have never been a fan of fish - they just were never my cup of tea - and my parents had always been firmly in the “animals with fur” category. Adopting ADFs would not only require learning about a new animal, but an animal I had zero experience with, as well as aquariums in general. And aquariums were a big part of why fish don’t appeal to me; they just seemed like so much work.
I read everything I could find online about ADFs. I bought “the” book for them and read that. I took extensive notes about the frogs themselves, about their aquarium requirements, and about materials needed to fill and clean the aquarium. Aquariums even need special sponges! I talked to everyone in the pet care department of my store; I talked to the coworkers that I knew had had or currently have ADFs. I even went to my store’s biggest competitor to see what they had to say about ADFs (and this was a trip that was physically very out of my way, as our rival does not have a store near my workplace or my home.) I learned that they cannot be housed with algae eater fish, and perhaps I should consider a snail if I became concerned about algae. I then had to research copious amounts of snail things - which snails were suitable to be housed with ADFs (nerites, by the way), and why, and THEIR care. I am by no means an expert, and I still bother my ADF-having coworkers all the time, and bother pet care about aquariums, but I felt confident enough that I could comfortably and safely house a group of ADFs (because I’d learned they do best as a group, and after seeing how upset Luna had been before bringing home Apollo, I did not want to subject an animal I were did not know well to loneliness when I may not be able to recognize the signs of it) and a nerite snail.
I brought home Buddha, Dapylil, and Froakie the first day. I adopted Sokka after seeing the Dalmation Molly she was housed with pick on her. And finally, since my snail research had been my last order of business, I brought home Roger the nerite snail. They all seem to be happy and healthy and very relaxed, even though they don’t show it in the same way my cats do. I’ve had cats my entire life. There were two cats in the house when I was born. I KNOW cats. Frogs (and snails) are something totally different.
Long story short: I see people come into my pet store every day with the same story. “I literally adopted this dog/cat/snake/bird/whatever twenty minuntes/two days/etc ago and I have no idea what to do. What does it even eat?” Am I the only one whose parents taught them to research? How can you bring home an animal that you know nothing about? That just seems like a recipe for poor, inhumane care and broken hearts. I have a friend (the same friend I got Apollo from, incidentally) who brings home things she thinks are cute with no regard to their needs or her financial situation and it drives me absolutely insane.
Do your research, people. It’s in the animal’s best interest.
docholligay
