Anna Seaman
A few weeks ago I became the not-so-proud owner of a small canary. My boyfriend, overcome by the need for a romantic gesture, travelled to Mina animal souk, picked out the poor little creature and presented it to me with a beaming smile.
I was less than gracious.
Not only was I disturbed by the thought of having something else living in my flat with me, but I hated the idea of having to look after it. Shamefully I did not even credit my boyfriend with a polite thank you, instead I snapped at him: “I hope you are taking that home with you,” I said.
But, as the pet owners among you already know, there is something comforting about owning an animal. I had never realised this before. Sure I had cats and dogs growing up in rural England but never something I could call my own and never such a small and needy presence.