Tuesday, July 12, 2011

If All Dogs Go To Heaven, Please Send Me To Hell

I grew up surrounded by pets.  We had several dogs throughout my childhood and teen years, cats galore, gold fish, mice, and even snails.  My family, with the exception of my poor, beleaguered father, adored animals.  I wholeheartedly included myself in this menagerie-loving crowd.  Currently I have two cats who rule the roost, and I am completely okay with this because my kitties are glorious, loving, mature creatures. Tibby is seventeen and Bingo is eight.  I also have one dog.  One miserably misbehaved, rambunctious, mannerless lout of a dog named Gus, whom I secretly call Dumb@##.

I always thought I was an equal opportunity animal lover.  Upon bringing Gus into our home, I realized with a ferocity of hard-won truth, that I am definitely not dog people.  I don't know how this realization escaped me for thirty-seven years.  As an adult, I only owned cats, but chalked up my poochless state to either working long hours or being in the midst of having three babies in a row.  I kept the idea in mind that when the kids were older we would have a puppy who would seamlessly meld into our family as some kind of canine soul mate. We could take the dog for walks, roll around on the floor together, play fetch, and have late night snuggles on the couch.  Sadly, this pet dream turned out to be a pipe dream.  Our dog, Gustav Ketchup-Head Hallbeck (proudly named by my five-year old, Jack), does none of these things. 

His primary pasttimes are chewing, farting, barking, and chasing my poor cats.  He is a one-pup wrecking machine.  He doesn't listen, he has a very shallow learning curve, and remains completely oblivious to any type of positive instruction to become a decent, God-fearing (or at least Momma-fearing) dog. So far, he's eaten trash, diapers, a library book, a gameboy, dvds, the knobs off a bedstead, a chair, countless stuffed animals and Barbies, the corners of my couches, my lawn furniture cushions, our tree in the backyard, and even my daughter's homework!  I have never before said this about any other animal in my life, but I hate this dog!

I say that at least once or twice a day about Gus, and then I immediately feel badly about it.  I feel badly because I really, truly don't hate him.  I actually have warm feelings for Gus, and I take good care of him. I am his primary caretaker because my kids forget and my husband reminds me on a daily basis that I absolutely had to have this dog.  Nonetheless, I hate his youth.  I hate his pure puppiness.  I hate his neediness when I am  already needed by my children all throughout the day.  I am needed by my husband, my father, my nephews and my friends.  I don't have time to be needed by a dog too.  I think that's where my problem lies with dogs in general.  They do give unconditional affection, but this constant loyalty and love comes at a high price, at least for me.  The cost is total dependence upon the owners, the continual demands for affection and attention, the consistent "look at me, look at me, look at me!" attitude.  It drives me crazy!

Cats, on the other hand, share their love selectively.  A person knows the true affection of a cat because the animal gives it sparingly and only to those the kitty trusts and loves.  Cats will comfort you when necessary, but leave you alone for long portions of time. The independence of cats appeals to me.  They don't need you, they want you.  That is the big difference between cats and dogs. 

I wonder what my dislike of dogs says about me as a person.  Does how I feel about the general nature of cats and dogs translate to my feelings regarding people?  Upon reflection, I actually think it does.  I prefer my friends to be independent and to want to be with me because they enjoy my company, not because they need something from me.  I prefer my children to develop independent attitudes so that they do things on their own and are willing to try new things without being scared.  I like the room that my husband gives me to do my own things, and the room that I give him for his own hobbies and activities.  We come together because we want to, not because we need to.  My love for cats and their personality traits comes from a very deep place inside me which also informs my feelings about the people I choose to share my life with and how I in turn, treat them.  It is interesting to think that I learned this about myself by bringing a dog into my life.  Even a dog as disgusting, rude, and mannerless as Gus.

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