Muddy paw prints are always tracing my carpeted floors. Half eaten pork bones are buried all over my yard- a feat my dogs are so dearly proud of. My couch is frayed from feline claws. And beneath the couch lies an array of materials hoarded by collecting ferrets- things like toilet paper rolls, skeins of yarn, fur sewing scraps, and occasionally a pig ear or two. Most of my home is dedicated to furry creatures. At night time by bed is filled with cats. In the morning my house awakens with the happy frolicking and digging of the ferrets. And my yard is a play area for eager and hyper and very muddy dogs. People often shutter at the site of it. "How can you live with so many animals?" they ask. And all I can think is, "How can I not?". Not everyone will understand, but the few who do will simply know. How can one not, live without so many furry children?
