by Nancy Gallimore | Photos courtesy of Nancy Gallimore
Dear parents, this is a tale of fair warning. Do you have a child who is obsessed with stuffed animals?
Was your baby’s first word “Puppy”? Does your child pull you past all the rides and games at the state fair to head straight to the petting zoo?
If you answered yes to these questions, we need to talk. Brace yourself, but don’t panic (yet). You just need to know you might be raising the newest version of me.
Let’s talk about me for a moment. Most people call me a crazy dog person, but really, it’s a slightly larger picture. I think it is safe to call me a crazy animal person. And let’s just say my lifelong obsession made the childrearing process a bit interesting for my parents from time to time.
If I had to pinpoint the birth of my animalcentric consciousness, I would have to look back to my two-year-old self. Young Nancy had a lot of eye issues as a child. I’m talking crossed eyes, a lazy eye, surgery, an eye patch, and little blue cat-eye glasses. It was quite a journey.
My mom swore that my salvation, and I suspect hers too, was our family’s steady, stalwart basset hound, Folly. For most of her life, Folly was known for lying across the kitchen floor like a warm, floppy speed bump. She was also infamous for her
room-clearing flatulence. But her crowning achievement, in my once very unfocused eyes, was her ability to patiently fill the role of seeing-eye dog for a toddler whose view of the world was topsy-turvy at best.
Folly would plod along on her stumpy little legs while I followed suit on my equally stumpy legs, clinging to her tail as if it were a service dog’s harness. Now we all know we should teach our youngsters not to grab the dog’s tail. But I think my parents understood my connection with Folly and knew this arrangement was 100 percent simpatico.
Maybe it was that early connection with our sweet, odiferous hound that set my course. Or maybe it was just in my DNA. I don’t know that there has ever been a study on early childhood animal addiction. I can, however, offer a firsthand testimonial.
Growing Up with Animals
Growing up, our family always included one beloved dog. There were also goldfish, dime-store turtles, the Christmas hamster, and the birthday parakeet. Because I was part of the “be home by the time the streetlights come on” generation, I hopped on my trusty banana-seat bicycle and befriended all the dogs within a square mile of our house.
Our neighborhood was in an area where you could still find horses and cattle in small pastures between houses. I visited them frequently, sneaking carrots and apples from our kitchen as treats for my hooved friends. I know my devotion to all things Hostess belied any attempt at a health-conscious cover story for the missing produce, but all was forgiven. Mom understood me as well as anyone could.
And let us not forget the turtles — I had a knack for finding them. And loving them. So much so that when my father told me it might be best to let my ever-expanding herd of shelled friends return to the wild, I was devastated.
“But, Daddy,” I pleaded with tears the size of spring raindrops coursing down my cheeks, “Harriet, Harrison, Little Harry, and their friends are my family!” It’s possible I was a late bloomer in my ability to select creative pet names.
To avoid the drama of his youngest daughter saying the world’s longest farewell as a dozen tortoises did a slow but steady freedom run, Dad relented and helped me build a wonderful five-star backyard turtle habitat. I’m not sure he understood quirky little me as well as Mom did, but he sure did love me.
One summer, I raised orphaned baby birds from the tiny featherless dinosaur stage into fully fledged young starlings that I released in our yard. Sure, prior to my understanding that they were supposed to be wild birds, it’s possible my feathered charges terrorized an unsuspecting neighbor or two as they swooped in seeking a little companionship. Didn’t everyone love having a random bird land on the head? I sure couldn’t relate to the screams of panic from the yard next door.Then I discovered horses. First there were riding lessons to satisfy a budding horsy girl’s enthusiasm. That soon translated into the purchase of a very patient paint gelding who helped shape a very happy, often dirt-covered preteen’s life. No days spent exploring the mall for this girl. I was in my glory cleaning stalls, picking hooves, and racing through open fields on my trusty steed at a pace that was surely as fast as Secretariat’s Derby run.
I’ll admit it. I was a lucky girl with exceedingly patient parents. I was allowed, within generous reason, to explore the world of animals that so determinedly beckoned me. And although I loved all animals in my personal Snow White fantasy, it was always the dogs who held my heart first and foremost.
Growing up, I was devoted to our family dogs. My dear friend Folly was followed by Princess the Scottish terrier and then by Skippy, the spaniel mix. Skippy was the dog who saw me through junior high, high school, and into college.
Then in the blink of an eye, a wonderful thing happened. I became an adult. An adult with a house, a job, and money of my
own. I could also have a dog of my own. Or two. Or three. And so it began.
Finding a World of Dogs
I started training my dogs. I competed with them in obedience, agility, and conformation shows. I surrounded myself with dog-enthusiast friends. I volunteered with dog rescue groups. Then, along with some very dedicated partners, I helped establish and run a rescue group. Enter the foster dogs!
In 2005, a dear like-minded friend and I turned our passion into a thriving dog-care business that we owned and operated for 18 years. You can have only so many dogs in your personal home, so why not find a way to borrow other people’s dogs and make a living doing it? It’s sheer genius, if you ask me.
Today, the girl who once tottered around behind her first-love dog now qualifies for a senior discount at the movies. But I’m still living the dream.
Do I keep more dogs in my home than any normal person would? The answer is a firm, well-grounded yes. But honestly, I’ve been training for this my whole life. I moved to a farm in the country. I have an amazing partner who loves our dogs and barn animals (we’re talking horses, donkeys, mule, pigs, chickens, sheep, and llamas over the years) as much as I do.
My house will never be perfectly clean. My bed will always be too crowded. My clothes will always sparkle with a coating of dog hair. To some people, I might be a crazy dog/animal person. But boy, is little Nancy with the blue glasses smiling from ear to ear!
Living a Life Filled with Critters
That child’s spirit is still alive and well despite the decades that have passed. I have taken her fantasy of living a life filled with dogs and critters of all kinds and made it come true. Together, she and I have learned that wild animals should remain wild, but it’s OK to offer them a helping hand when needed. We have learned you can love a homeless animal completely and then let it go when that perfect new family comes along. We have learned to gently hold a precious new life and to also be brave and present in an animal’s twilight.
Little Nancy taught me about compassion. About marching to the beat of my own drum and teaching my dog to march right along with me. She taught me that having nice things is great, but if your dog happens to chew up one of those nice things, that’s OK too. The dog matters more.
So for you parents who are reading this and finding some of my stories of young Nancy frighteningly familiar, take heart. Sure, having an animal-loving kid isn’t always the easiest path. And yes, you do have to occasionally rein in that child’s desire to bring all the animals home. But I also encourage you to recognize and nurture that sweet, caring seed that is blooming in your youngster’s heart.
A passion for animals isn’t always just part of someone’s life. Sometimes it is that life. And that’s not such a bad thing. If my current lifestyle earns me the title of crazy dog person, well, print it on a T-shirt, and I’ll wear it with pride. And let me know if we need to print some tees in kids’ sizes for your up-and-comer too.
Of course, you know they’ll be immediately covered in dog hair.
