By Frances Nicholson
I have a dog. Two dogs, in fact. We got our puppies before we got our kids, and we loved them. We kissed them. We cuddled them. We bought them too many toys; we overindulged them with treats. We gave them silly pet names and let them sleep in our beds.
But never did we call those beloved canines “furkids” or “furbabies.” Because the last I checked Wikipedia, dogs ain’t people.
Your puppy is not your child, so stop saying that he is. I have two children now, and I know this for certain — kids and dogs are not same. The fact is dogs are way, way better.
Think about when you got your puppy. You probably picked him out at the local ASPCA, or selected him from the local breeder. Basically, you pointed to a dog and said, “That one.” Easy peasy lemon squeezy, as we all know the best things in life are easy, unlike having a child.
As most mothers went through nine months of body invasion, followed by one of the most intense physical experiences of her life. Then they dropped a whining, crying baby on her chest. All that agony and pain was a sign of how horrible having children was going to be.
Having children just doesn’t stack up.
Yes, both puppies and newborn babies wake up in the night. It sucks to wake up and shout out “stop barking before I come down and beat you with rolled up newspaper” but it sucks more to wake up and attempt to latch an unwilling, wailing infant to your breast. So for godsake, stop comparing having a dog to having a child, dogs are so much better.
Then once you’ve managed to feed your bundle of joy, you have to get him back to sleep. The puppy doesn’t decide to party until 5 a.m., at which point, it’s time for another feeding.
Then there’s babyproofing. You puppy-proofed your house — you removed all things chewable, took up poisonous plants, and provided appropriate chew toys.
When I babyproofed my house, I had to make sure little hands couldn’t gain access to caustic cleaning fluids. I had to look for strangulation hazards (goodbye, Roman blinds) and put safety locks on all the cabinets (which are a giant pain in the arse).
If I failed in my duties, I’m not facing a chewed-up family heirloom or pet cemetery in the backyard; rather I’m looking at a dead kid and a DSS inquiry. Fuck that!!
See what I mean? Kids are a serious pain in the arse.
Then there is the bonding side of things. Dogs, well they just love you every single hour, every day of the week. Were bothersome kids have complex emotions, thoughts and needs that are a real drain on the brain when all you want them to do is fetch your slippers or attack an unwanted house intruder. Hello? When was the last time your three year old daughter licked milk off the floor without complaining?
Then there is the obedience thing. I ask my dogs to sit or beg and they do as they are told, no muss, no fuss. My kids on the other hand, they are already asking “why this?” and “why dat?” and giving me sassy arse back-chat. When was the last time my dog’s Patch and Winkle asked me stupid questions like “why am I crying all the time?” Never, that’s when.
So stop saying your dog are like your children when you know full well they are way better.
You’re stuck with your dog … except you’re not because you can leave. Before my husband and I had kids, we travelled all the time — dropped the pups by the doggie spa, payed extra for playground time, and hopped the plane guilt-free. God I desperately miss those pre-kids days.
I can’t just leave my toddlers. Sure, maybe one day I’ll be able to leave them with resentful relatives for some overnights. But it’s not quite as simple as plunking my credit card down at the kennel. God I wish so much it was. If I could, I would be more than happy to drop my kids at a kind of “kid pound” but last time I Googled it those things haven’t been invented yet. Hell, I wish I’d seen a bumper sticker “Kids aren’t just for Christmas”, I may have hesitated before birthing two of these life-force sucker critters.
As you can mostly ignore your dog. Yes, your dog lives in your house, and yes, you love it. But your attention is not focused on the dog every fucking waking moment, unlike my bratty spoilt children. “Mummy this, mummy that” that shit is ceaseless.
And at the risk of sounding like an annoying dog lover here: dogs do some amazing things kids just can’t stack up to. Sure, you can teach Sarah to read, but that pride is nothing compared to your dog learning to shake hands, so cute.
Both give sloppy kisses, but only one demandingly lisps, “I wuv your IPad mommy, give to ve now.”
)Potty training’s is another pain in the butthole unique to kids. If only I could just open the back door and my kids would take a dump in the next-door neighbour’s lawn. And can your kids dig a hole and bury a bone? I didn’t think so
My dogs don’t melt down when their favourite Star Wars figure breaks, and they bite me a hell of a lot less. My dogs don’t go all “boo-hoo” just becuase their tum tum hurt cus they swallowed a marble. They don’t call me a “poop-head” either. This is just one of the many reasons I regret having kids and wish I just stuck with my two awesome dogs. So please stop comparing children to dogs, it’s an insult to loyal, lovable canines everywhere.
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