You know the people that are more comfortable with animals than people; the type of person who sees a cat in the street and has to greet it, the person stood talking to farm animals or cooing at birds in the garden? That’s me. I’m an animal person. As a person with awful social anxiety, I’ve often turned to animals for companionship and socialisation. I’ve never not had pets. Growing up, I had so many different pets and it made me love all different types of animals. As a shy child and teen, my pets were my friends. Now I’m 28 and suffer with chronic health conditions, pets are still my joy and my companions through tough times.
When I first started suffering from chronic health issues, I worried that pets wouldn’t be an option for me anymore. My fatigue was overwhelming, and I couldn’t see how I would cope looking after animals when I was struggling to look after myself. But at the same time, I needed my animals because I was struggling to accept my illness, mentally I was low and the physical pain and fatigue occupied all my thoughts. My pets gave me something else to think about, something to stay motivated for and something to lift my spirits. My pets were the only thing I could really feel joy for, the one thing that made me happy when I was struggling to live life like a normal young adult. I’d see friends and people my age out socialising, spending all night drinking and partying and it was hard to not be a part of that, to be limited by my health, my own body. I felt like I was a broken person, fighting my own body and fighting health professionals who were judgemental and ignorant of M.E. At that point in my life, I needed my animals to keep me going more than ever and they were, and still are a huge factor in my happiness and mental health.
I first got rats as pets when I was 17, I was a psychology student and learning all about medical research studies involving rats as participants, sometimes experiments that killed them or put them through stress and suffering. All to better understand our own brains and the medical treatments that would be beneficial for us. I just fell in love with the species, their intelligence and social nature. So, I got a pair of rats and 11 years later I still have rats, I’ve not been without them since. Rats were a pet that I had before I developed M.E and I was worried I’d have to give them up when I got ill. I have my family to thank for initially allowing me to continue to keep them, they helped with the cleaning out and feeding when I wasn’t well enough. They still help me when I need it. Having a bed full of rats would probably freak any normal person out but it was a regular joy for me, letting the rats out to free roam around the bedroom cheered me up and it was a way for me to exercise my pets and enjoy them from bed. I compare having rats to having tiny dogs, they are extremely sociable and friendly, they are intelligent and each one has their own personality. They are amazing pets, and I couldn’t imagine my life without rats. They require a lot of stimulation in their cages and regular cleaning out which was sometimes a struggle for me but over the years I’ve found ways to adapt those things and make them easier for me. I have a raised cage so I don’t have to bend as much, pull out base trays, a cage with big double doors so it’s completely accessible when adding hammocks and ropes. In a way, chronic illness has made me think outside the box more, I’ve had to find new ways to do things and inventive ways to make things less strenuous or fatigue inducing.
Luna was more of a spontaneous adoption; a kitten needing a new home. I’d had M.E for a couple of years and I wanted a nap buddy, so I arranged to go get her and she’s been my best friend for 5 years now. It wasn’t an easy experience; she came with a lot of issues I hadn’t anticipated. She had a negative start to life, she was abused and abandoned, underweight and under socialised. I’d stupidly hoped for a cuddly and affectionate cat immediately and she was the opposite; very frightened and distrustful of people. She didn’t like being touched or picked up and was very aggressive to anyone coming into the house who wasn’t me. It was hard because I relied on my family for support and care when I wasn’t well, and they couldn’t really help me because Luna would just attack them when they came in my space. I thought about rehoming her but I’m stubborn and she’d already had such a horrible experience with people, I didn’t want to give up on her. It took about a year to gain her trust, and a few years for her to accept my family being around. She still won’t interact with strangers and she’s aggressive to anyone ‘new’ coming into my life but, with me she’s the most affectionate and cuddly cat. She doesn’t leave my side, she’s a shadow that follows me around the house. That companionship has been so important for me, M.E is so isolating and being housebound is the loneliest experience. Luna has adapted so well to my illness, she’s so relaxed and cuddly when I’m having a bad day, she’s content to just lie with me in bed and provide company. I can’t express how important that has been for me, that friendship and constant companionship during my time with M.E.
Lastly is my latest addition; Gizmo. I’ve dreamed of having my own puppy for years, but my health has fluctuated so much that I’ve never felt confident enough to take on that responsibility. Dogs need a lot more exercise and attention, and I never felt capable enough. Then last year I decided that I wanted that experience, I don’t think I’ll ever have children and a dog felt like the next best thing. Living with my parents, I knew I’d have that extra support if I needed it and I wanted a companion for when I’m able to take short walks and get outside. So, I put my name down on a rescue puppy list and got a call to say there was a 16-week-old puppy, who’d been smuggled from Russia in a lorry, treated terribly and needing a patient, loving home. I couldn’t refuse, I’m a rescuer, I can’t turn down an opportunity to ‘fix’ or ‘make something better’. A year later and I can’t remember life without Gizmo. I won’t lie, it was hard. My health initially got worse with the extra activity and attention I was putting into a puppy. I underestimated the effects of training and entertaining a dog, it took a lot of my energy. But the thing I love about animals the most is that they adapt, and Gizmo has adapted so quickly to my routine. He’s learned that I need to sleep in the day, and he’s made that his own nap time too, when I’m low energy he brings his toys on the bed to play with, he has just attuned himself to my fluctuating M.E and I think that’s amazing for a puppy to do.
The main thing my pets provide is unconditional love. As someone with a chronic illness and an ‘invisible illness’, it’s common to receive a lot of judgement and unkind words. People can be cruel and unthinking; animals aren’t like this. I feel like my pets accept my illness, they accept how my life is and where my limits are and don’t love me any less for it. Pets certainly make my life with chronic and mental illness more bearable.
The Sleepy Bookworm 