We Are All Completely Beside Ourselves Part III

Today, I spent much of my time over at my girlfriend's apartment. About six months ago, she got a puppy, one whom her family's dog had birthed, that she named Daisy. Although she is not really my dog, I spend a lot of time with Daisy: helped train and care for her, and as such like to pretend she's equally mine. I'd always been surrounded by pets growing up, but when we got them I was too young to really assist in their development, so this was an entirely new experience. Although I adore our dogs at home, being a key player in the process- a parent rather than a sibling- led to a vastly different dynamic. I love Daisy. Not in any sort of exaggerated "she's so cute OH-MY-GOD I LOVE HER" kind of way. The connection that I feel toward her I would equate to what I feel for a family member. We have a distinct relationship, and quite honestly I spoil her rotten. So anyway, back to today. I'd been playing with her for a while, a game of fetch that in reality was more like tug-of-war. She'd had enough, and instead of bounding back with the toy laid down and did a puppy army crawl back toward me. I laid down on the carpet, and she crawled up on my chest, licked my face a few times, and promptly fell asleep. This had become a sort of ritual with us. The contentment and security she seems to feel with me is incredibly fulfilling. It may all seem very hyperbolic, but if I never were to have children, the companionship and trust between Daisy and I is about as close as one can come to that type of relationship. She is as much family as any human relation or close friend.

I also recognize that while she may rely on us for food, shelter, and protection, I'd be hard pressed to say that she gets more out of the relationship than I. At the very least it is mutually beneficial. But what if Daisy didn't necessarily need me to survive? Would my ownership of her still be ethical? The answer to this question can quickly become muddled and hard to discern. "But Mr. Hayes said that the significant, the critical finding of their study. . . was this: that language was the only way in which Viki differed much from a normal human child." (Fowler 288) If Fern had been left in the wild, or with her own kind, she never would have needed the care of humans, could've been totally self-sufficient. But in adopting Fern, Rosemary's family created a need in her for them. This to me is despicable. One should never take on the responsibility of raising an animal if they do not intend to do so for the duration of that animal's life. What's more, due to Fern's intelligence and the way in which she was raised, the situation is more correlated with the giving away of one's own child. Only the lowest and most empty of human beings do this for selfish reasons.  A more ethical decision would have been either to keep Fern as a family member for her life, or to never have adopted her at all.

The more basic question that this situation raises is, what right do humans have to own other beings at all? Rosemary's brother Lowell believed the answer to that question was, none. He recognized that every being has a will for freedom and the desire to control their own lives. "Lowell's life has been the direct result of his very best qualities, our very best qualities-- empathy, compassion, loyalty, and love." (Fowler 307) He was willing to break the law, and sacrifice his own freedom, for theirs. Although on paper we do own Daisy, I do not believe she feels as though she has no free will, nor do I believe this is the case. But how can an animal in a cage, the bars a visible barrier to the world, not feel trapped? "These six chimps are cared for in the best way possible, and yet their lives are not enviable. . . They need more surprise in their lives." (Fowler 310) Treating an animal "well" (relative to previous treatment at least) is very different than making decisions that are in their best interest. It is only human arrogance that presumes the ownership of another being is better for the animal than it would've been without us. There is no easy answer to these questions, but one simple fact remains: no one wants to be put in a cage.