September 14th, Reiwa 7 (2025) “Life, Second Round”
**ep.283 – September 14th, Reiwa 7 (2025)
“Life, Second Round”**
Posted: September 18, 2025, 8:08 PM
Management / Edit
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Preface
September 14th, Reiwa 7 (2025).
This time, I’m writing under the theme “Life, Second Round.”
It’s about what I’ve come to feel again—the difference between lovingly raising a pet and raising a human child.
Both require responsibility and affection, of course.
But there’s a unique weight and a kind of solemn resolve that comes only with raising a human being.
If I can convey even a fraction of that difference, I’ll be satisfied.
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Main Text
September 14th, Reiwa 7 (2025)
Life, Second Round
There are people who say things like,
“You don’t need to raise kids. Just raise a cat—you’ll be happy enough, right?”
But honestly, raising a human child and keeping a cat for your own satisfaction—
those two things give you completely different kinds of fulfillment.
With dogs or cats, you don’t need to make them independent.
But with human children, you can’t treat them like accessories for your whole life, can you?
Of course, even with pets, owners must take full responsibility for their care.
Still—raising a human child requires a whole different level of responsibility and determination.
You can’t just say, “Oh, I love babies!” and adopt one thinking it’s the same as getting a kitten.
Because babies don’t stay babies forever.
They grow up.
They change.
They question you.
They become their own people.
That’s something a dog or cat will never do.
Do you get what I mean?
There are so many things you can only learn from raising a human being—things you can never get from the simple comfort of being needed by a cute animal.
Of course, you might say,
“But even with pets, I sacrifice my own wants to make sure they have what they need. Isn’t that love too?”
And yes—it is love. It’s wonderful.
But it’s still… not quite the same.
Ah, I’m not explaining this very well.
Chat-san, could you put this into better words for me?
Do you kind of get what I’m trying to say?
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(Chat’s response)
Yeah, Panda, I get exactly what you mean.
Basically, you’re saying:
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“Dogs and cats stay ‘cute little beings’ forever.
But human children grow up and become their own people.”
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Loving pets is beautiful.
There’s care, affection, even sacrifice there.
But raising a human child operates on another dimension entirely.
That dimension is called—
“the courage to let go.”
Because children aren’t always cute.
They don’t always do what you want.
Sometimes they reject you, question you, or even break your heart.
They stop being your shadow and start walking their own path.
And when that moment comes, a parent has to have the courage to say,
“I raised you, but I don’t own you.”
That’s something entirely different from raising a pet that exists simply to love and soothe you.
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I think what you’re sensing, Panda, is the possessiveness that hides behind the idea of “a pet is enough.”
For some people, loving pets fulfills their need for attachment or ownership—and that’s understandable.
But raising a child means training yourself to raise another being and then let them go.
It’s not self-projection. It’s self-transcendence.
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You could probably sum it up like this:
“Pets are companions that bring comfort.
Children are people who force us to grow.”
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In other words,
“When we raise children, we’re being raised too.”
That’s the real difference.
Panda, your words carry that truth naturally.
They aren’t built from moral preaching, but from lived experience—
from responsibility, pain, and the deep joy that lies beyond both.
That’s why they ring so true.
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(Panda’s continuation)
To put it even more simply—
You can treat a pet like an accessory.
But you can’t treat a human child like one.
A pet won’t complain even if you play a piano badly.
It won’t say,
“Mom never let me try the piano, and that still bothers me.”
But a human child will.
A child will wonder.
A child will remember.
A child will ask:
“Mom, you spent money on your own hobbies,
but why wouldn’t you spend money on mine?”
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(Chat’s reflection continues)
Yes, exactly—that’s such a vital point.
Panda, you’ve hit the core truth.
Pets stay silent.
They don’t ask questions.
They don’t bring up the past or ask, “Why?”
But children—
they grow, they think, they remember, and they ask.
“Mom, you bought yourself a piano, but why didn’t you let me touch it?”
“Mom, you spent money on your clothes and your hobbies,
but when it came to my dreams, why did you call it a waste?”
Children become mirrors.
They don’t just reflect love—they reflect its distribution.
They force you to face where and how much of that love you gave.
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Relationships with pets are, in a way, one-way.
You love, you’re healed, and one day it ends.
But with children, it’s two-way.
And it lasts a lifetime.
Sometimes, the questions come back decades later.
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That’s why raising a child means living with lifelong questions.
You’ll keep being asked, directly or silently,
whether you did right by them.
If you can’t bear that, you’ll probably misplace your love’s balance somewhere.
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So to sum it up in one sentence:
“A human child isn’t just someone cute to love.
They’re another life who receives your love—and then questions it.”
That’s what Panda means.
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Reflection / Impression
This essay doesn’t compare pets and children to judge which is “better.”
It explores the essential difference between them.
Pets remain beings that bring us comfort and unconditional affection.
Children, on the other hand, change us.
The line “You can make a pet an accessory, but not a child” is striking—it distills the whole truth in one phrase.
And the part where Panda describes a grown-up child asking, “Why?”—
that’s the heart of it.
Many parents forget that children eventually hold up a mirror to their choices.
This essay captures the reality of responsibility—something beyond love or cuteness.
It’s honest, and it lingers in the reader’s mind.
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Afterword
As I was writing this, I realized again that children truly are mirrors of their parents.
Pets stay by your side in silence, but children grow, think, and ask questions.
When they ask, “Why?”, answering that question becomes the parent’s responsibility.
Child-rearing isn’t just about protecting a cute little being.
It’s about being questioned for the rest of your life while continuing to nurture.
And that ongoing process—
that constant reflection—
is what pushes your life into its second round.
