I read an article the other day written by a woman who basically laid out her argument for why people thinking of or calling their pets babies is an insult to mothers everywhere, herself particularly included. We live in a world where everyone gets to state their opinion, so I guess I’d like to take a moment to pawnder my own thoughts on such an argument.
You see, I find myself having been and being two different people. I like to think that pre-dog I was a good person. I cared about the world, was considerate of other cultures, tried to reel in my judgmental nature, and I always deferred to those who I suspected knew better than me, such as older adults who liked to give me “advice” about my future, while still staying true to myself and my own nature.
Yet, post-adopting dogs, because of the trials and tribulations such events are known to cause, I find myself more compassionate, caring, and loving than ever before, not to mention more active and happy because of them too (see Living Life with a High-Energy Dog). Simon and Rosee have taught me that when you love something so much you are willing to put up with its highs, lows, and even eccentricities, and put in the effort, no matter how tiring, to ensure that that something stays content and happy for the rest of its life. And I think, perhaps that is where my opinion differs from the insulted author.
I would go to the end of the world for my dogs, put myself in between them and an attacker, examine their poop with my bare hands to check for certain illnesses, get sprayed with errant pee when Simon doesn’t pay attention to where he’s going, put out hundreds of dollars on toys, medicine, and treats, and so much more. In fact, I have done all of this, just like I’m sure so many other pet owners and lovers have done for their own bundles of joy.
Pets, like real human babies, do much more for people than simply take up space in their homes.
So you see, I was a good person.