We Asked 100 Customers Their Biggest Pet Regret — The Answers Were Eye-Opening

I have been having conversations at this counter for 35 years. Some of those conversations happen before a purchase — the ones where I try to ask the right questions and make sure the animal and the household are a reasonable match. And some of them happen later: the person who comes back two years in, buying food or bedding, and who mentions, sometimes in passing and sometimes with real feeling, that something about the experience has been different from what they imagined.

I have always paid attention to those later conversations. They are the ones that tell me the most about whether the advice I gave at the beginning was good advice, or whether it was advice that sounded good at the point of purchase and fell apart in practice.

Last autumn, over the course of about six weeks, I started asking those returning customers a specific question. Not in a survey format, not with forms and clipboards — just in the course of normal conversation, to people I knew well enough to expect an honest answer. The question was simple: if you could go back to the day you got your pet and do one thing differently, what would it be?

I asked about a hundred people. I kept rough notes. The answers were not evenly distributed — a handful of themes came up again and again — but some of them were things I had not expected to hear as frequently as I did.

This article is what those conversations revealed.

Regret One — “I Didn’t Research the Lifespan”

This came up more than any other single response, and it came up most consistently around two specific animals: cockatiels and rabbits.

The cockatiel owners who said this typically bought their bird at some point in their thirties or forties, for a child who was nine or ten. They had been told the bird could live fifteen to twenty years. Some said they had been told. Others said they had not been told clearly, or had heard it and not absorbed it. Either way, the practical consequence was the same: they were now in their mid-fifties with a bird that was twelve years old, their child had left home, and they were the person responsible for a companion animal they had not originally signed up to own for two decades.

Several said they loved the bird genuinely and had no intention of rehoming it. But all of them said some version of: I wish someone had sat me down and really made me think about what fifteen to twenty years actually means in the context of my life.

The rabbit owners who said this were mostly surprised by a different lifespan issue — not the length of it, but the end of it. They had bought rabbits for children who were eight or nine. The rabbits had lived eight to ten years, and the children had been twelve or thirteen when the first rabbit died — old enough to be genuinely distressed, young enough that the timing of a pet’s death was their first significant encounter with loss. Several parents said they would have prepared their children more explicitly for this, or chosen an animal with a shorter average lifespan for a first pet.

Neither of these is an argument against cockatiels or rabbits. They are arguments for having an honest conversation about lifespan before you buy rather than after.

Regret Two — “The Cage Was Too Small and I Didn’t Know”

This was the second most consistent theme, and it came up across budgies, hamsters, rabbits, and guinea pigs in roughly equal measure.

The standard cages and hutches sold alongside small animals in most UK pet shops — the ones that come in boxes with a bag of seed or food attached — are typically too small for the animal’s long-term welfare. This is not a secret in the pet welfare community. It is, however, not always made clear at the point of sale, and most first-time owners assume that the cage sold specifically for the animal in the specific pet shop is an appropriate size for that animal.

The budgie owners who raised this typically described birds that spent most of their time climbing cage bars — a behaviour I have written about elsewhere, and one that is often a sign of insufficient space and insufficient stimulation. They had not connected the climbing to the cage size at the time. They connected it retrospectively, often after reading something or after seeing a better-housed bird somewhere else.

The hamster owners described buying the standard compact cage and later discovering — through a rescue organisation, a vet, or an online community — that the minimum recommended cage size for a Syrian hamster is substantially larger than what they had bought. Several had upgraded and described an immediate and visible change in the animal’s behaviour: more burrowing, more exploring, more of what they recognised as natural hamster activity.

The rabbit and guinea pig owners described outdoor hutches that they later realised were essentially too small for the animals to move properly — limiting to two or three hops in any direction. Some had bought runs and exercise enclosures to compensate. Others had simply not known until too late.

What almost all of them said: nobody told me the cage was inadequate. I assumed the cage sold with the animal was the appropriate cage for the animal.

Regret Three — “I Got One Guinea Pig Instead of Two”

I have written a full article on this subject because it comes up so consistently, but it appeared in these conversations as well — almost every guinea pig owner who responded mentioned it unprompted.

The specific form the regret took was not always the same. Some owners had bought one guinea pig, not known that they needed two, and later learned from a rescue or a vet that their animal’s quietness, lethargy, or subdued behaviour was consistent with the social deprivation of living alone. Some had lost one of a pair and waited too long before finding a replacement companion, and described watching the surviving animal change over the weeks it was alone.

A smaller number had bought two and were reporting the opposite: that having two had been transformatively better than they expected. They had not been told to get two — they had been told it was recommended. The difference between recommended and necessary had not been clear to them at the time, and they said with hindsight that they wished someone had been more direct.

The phrasing I heard most often from this group: “I didn’t realise how different they were with company until I had the second one.”

Regret Four — “I Underestimated How Much Time It Would Take”

This came up most consistently in budgie owners — specifically in owners who had bought a single budgie with the intention of taming it and forming the interactive relationship that budgies can offer, and who had not fully anticipated what that process requires.

The standard advice — be patient, use treats, build trust gradually — is correct as far as it goes. What it does not convey is the daily, consistent, unbroken nature of the commitment. A taming process that is attended to daily for two weeks and then falls off for a week because of work pressure, school holidays, or illness does not produce a half-tamed bird. It often produces a bird that is further from tame than it was at the start, because inconsistency in the process teaches the bird that the approach is unpredictable.

Several owners described buying a budgie with genuine intention to tame it, finding the process harder and more time-consuming than they had anticipated, and settling into a relationship with an untamed bird that lived in a cage, was never fully handled, and whose potential for the human-animal interaction they had originally wanted was never realised. Some of those owners said they found the relationship significantly less satisfying than they had hoped. Some said the bird was fine, they just wished they had understood the commitment before they started.

The second version of this regret came from cockatiel owners — not about taming, but about the daily companionship requirement. Several described buying a cockatiel, falling in love with its personality and its bond, and then finding that the bird’s dependence on them — its distress when they were out for long hours, its contact calling, its obvious unhappiness when routines changed — was more demanding than they had anticipated.

One woman described it as: “I thought I was getting a pet. I got a relationship. And some days that’s the most wonderful thing. And some days it’s a lot.”

Regret Five — “I Didn’t Go to a Vet Early Enough”

This one was the hardest to hear, and it came up less often than the others — but when it came up, it came up with more weight.

The pattern was consistent across species: an owner had noticed something that did not seem right — a change in behaviour, a change in weight, a change in vocalisation — and had waited. Not out of negligence, but out of a combination of uncertainty about whether it was serious enough to warrant a vet visit, and the hope that it would resolve on its own.

With small animals and birds, this waiting period is often the difference between a treatable condition and a critical one. Several people described bringing an animal to a vet when it was already significantly unwell, and being told by the vet that what they were seeing was probably detectable earlier and that earlier intervention would have given a better outcome.

The emotion in these conversations was not guilt — most of these owners had acted in good faith, had not been wilfully negligent, and had simply not had the information that would have told them to move sooner. The emotion was more like: I didn’t know it happened that fast. I wish someone had told me what to look for.

Some of them had come across my articles on this site — the ones about quiet budgies, weight loss in small animals, the hiss and click of a sick hamster — and said they wished they had read them before they needed them.

Regret Six — “I Chose the Wrong Animal for My Actual Lifestyle”

This was the most varied in its specific form, but the underlying shape was consistent: an owner who had chosen an animal based on what they thought they wanted, or what they thought their child wanted, or what seemed like a reasonable idea at the time — and who later understood that a different animal would have suited their actual life better.

The most common version involved cockatiels in households where the owner worked long hours and the bird was alone for most of the day. The bird’s distress — its contact calling, its feather plucking in some cases, its visible change in condition — had been something the owner had not anticipated and had found distressing to witness. They said they wished they had bought a canary, or a pair of budgies, or something whose welfare was less dependent on consistent human presence.

A smaller number involved the reverse: someone who had bought a canary because it seemed lower-maintenance, and who found — once they had it — that what they actually wanted was the interactive relationship they had not realised they were seeking. They had ended up getting a budgie a year or so later, and the canary was still there, but the energy they had wanted to put into a bird-human relationship had been frustrated by the wrong first choice.

Several rabbit owners described buying a rabbit for a child who had specifically requested one, and discovering that the reality of rabbit keeping — the size of appropriate housing, the outdoor care in all weathers, the relative independence of the animal — did not match the child’s expectation of a cuddly interactive pet. They said they wished they had had a more honest conversation about what a rabbit is actually like versus what children imagine a rabbit to be.

What Was Not on the List

I want to note this specifically, because I think it is important.

Almost nobody said they regretted having the animal. A small number said they wished they had waited until they were more settled in their life before getting a pet — but even in those cases, the regret was usually about timing or preparation, not about the animal itself.

The relationship with the pet — whatever it was — was almost universally described as having been worth it. The regrets were almost all about being better prepared for the relationship, not about having entered it.

That is, I think, worth saying plainly. These were not conversations with people who had stopped loving their animal or who wished they had never had it. They were conversations with people who loved their animal and who wished they had been better equipped to provide for it from the beginning.

What I Took From These Conversations

The thing that sat with me most, after I had added up the notes and looked at the pattern, was this: the majority of the regrets I heard were about information that was available at the point of purchase and was simply not communicated clearly enough or taken seriously enough.

Lifespan information is on the packaging and in the guides. Cage size requirements are documented. The social needs of guinea pigs are widely known in the animal welfare community. The time commitment of taming a budgie is described in countless articles. The importance of early veterinary intervention is something every vet tells every owner.

And yet these were the things people wished they had known better.

This says something about the gap between information existing and information landing — being absorbed, understood, and carried into the actual experience of owning the animal. The person who reads that a cockatiel lives 15 to 20 years and the person who has genuinely sat with what that means are not always the same person. And the gap between them is where most of these regrets live.

What I am taking from these conversations is a renewed commitment to the harder conversations — the ones that slow down a sale, that ask the difficult question, that make sure the household understands not just what the animal is but what the animal will ask of them across its whole life. Those conversations are sometimes uncomfortable. They are also, based on what I heard from these hundred people, the ones that matter most.

The Six Most Common Pet Regrets — At a Glance

Frequently Asked Questions

What is the most common pet regret for bird owners?

Based on these conversations, it is underestimating the lifespan commitment — particularly for cockatiels, which commonly live 15 to 20 years. The second most common for bird owners is underestimating the time and consistency required to build the interactive relationship they wanted, particularly with budgies. The advice that would address both: have a specific, honest conversation about what the animal will need across its whole life before buying, not after.

What is the most common pet regret for small animal owners?

Housing size, consistently. Most owners assumed the cage sold alongside the animal was an appropriate size. In most cases, for long-term welfare, it was not. The second most common was the guinea pig companionship issue — buying one and later learning that single housing was causing the animal genuine welfare problems. The advice: ask specifically what the minimum appropriate cage size is, and get the answer in measurements rather than in descriptions like “suitable.”

Did anyone regret getting a pet at all?

Almost nobody. The relationships people described — with birds, rabbits, guinea pigs, hamsters — were almost universally described as having been worth having. The regrets were about preparation, information, and specific decisions within the experience of having the animal — not about the experience itself.

What is the single most useful thing to know before buying any pet?

From these conversations, I would say: know what the animal will need across its whole life, not just in the first few weeks. Lifespan, housing requirements, time commitment, social needs — all of these play out over years, not days. The information is usually available before you buy. The question is whether you have genuinely absorbed what it means in the context of your specific household and your specific life.

Where can I get honest advice before buying a pet in Swindon?

Come and talk to me before you buy. Not after — before. Bring your questions, describe your household and your lifestyle honestly, and I will give you my honest view of what animal suits you and what does not. I would rather take twenty minutes having the right conversation than have you come back in two years with one of the regrets from this list. Come and see us at Paradise Pets, Manor Garden Centre, Cheney Manor, Swindon SN2 2QJ, or call 01793 512400.

Written by Neil — Neil has owned and run Paradise Pets Swindon since 1988. He has kept, bred, and sold small animals and cage birds for over 35 years. For honest pre-purchase advice on any animal, visit us at Manor Garden Centre, Cheney Manor, Swindon — or call 01793 512400.