My mom was one of those crazy animal collector people. At any given time, growing up, we had dogs, cats, ducks, rabbits, hedgehogs, rats, chinchillas, turtles, iguanas, etc. We didn't live on a farm, either. We lived in a developed suburb. My mother loved to aquire new animals, but didn't particularly like caring for them, so that duty fell to us kids. Every Saturday, after service, was spent picking up dog turds, cleaning cages and cat boxes, etc. The worst part was, as soon as we got attached to the animals, she would get bored with them and give them away to other families. It really sucked. In her final years, she decided that it would be a great idea to get 3 wolf-hybrid dogs. Not a good choice when you have nothing to do with them. Wolf-dogs are terrible pets. They are practically untrainable, extremely independant, and not overly friendly. What a disaster. Long after I moved out of the house, my mom came down with pancreatic cancer. When she died, my dad decided that he didn't want to care for the wolves anymore, so he took them out into the desert and shot them. he botched the job and they suffered a bit before he was finally able to kill them cleanly. He is still bothered by this to this day.
I vowed to never, ever treat pets like my mom treated hers. I've had Ronin, my old dog, for 15 years, thru thick & thin. Our cat, Ripley, has been with us for 9 years, since she was a kitten, and Gus, our 3-year-old German Shepherd, isn't going anywhere. They are as much a part of the family as my wife & I. i guess you could say that my mom's poor behavior had a positive influence on me, though, so not all was lost.