Our dog died today. Or maybe yesterday. We had him for 10 years, from before our eldest. The Before Times. He was a gorgeous puppy. A very handsome husky we named Kaiser. Regal. Even if he was a bit of a dope.
Dogs hated him. The whole dog park thing was not for him unfortunately. He was never aggressive with people, although he would ‘mouth’ me if I annoyed him. People didn’t get it and would find him intimidating. Just try washing him.
My kids recently got old enough — and Kaiser mellow enough — to walk him. The girls would run him through a field like witches in the night, half terrifying themselves. He never hurt any of our children.
But he did hurt other animals. We’d find chewed up possum heads in our yard. A possum could escape a hundred times but need only slip once. A brush turkey, a chicken down the road. One time we caught him snarling at a baby possum that was hiding. He had just eaten its mother. We nursed the joey and called rescue.
I didn’t mind all this. He loved his masters. And we loved him.
But getting a dog was a mistake. A dog is all the labour of parenthood and none of the point. (When I ran this through Claude, it told me “If there were no point you’d have felt nothing today and written nothing.” You got me.)
You should not get a dog. People look at me funny when I say this — it’s not the done thing. But getting a dog is almost certainly a mistake for you. If you live on a farm, fine, whatever. Why not. You have space, you have animals. Wonderful. Enjoy. But you don’t live on a farm. Same if you are a Russian prince. You want to go hunting with your borzois? Wonderful. But you are not a Russian prince. You aren’t even a British lord. You are a gelded pleb in your little city home. Grow up.
Ok, so we got a Siberian sled dog for suburban Australia. Maybe our lessons don’t generalise so well. I accept that. OG looksmaxxers. Just went for a big beautiful dog. An understandable mistake for two young people in their prime. Who has time for half-rat breeds?
But dogs are a trap. They’re great at being loved. Your dog loves you no matter what? Maybe be unafraid of earning the love of fellow humans. Create enduring love that survives you — in your children.
Maybe your girlfriend wants a dog. She doesn’t want a dog, she wants a baby but you’re too much of a child to man up and give her one. Maybe your kids want a dog. Who cares what they want, kids want a lot of things. They won’t look after it. You don’t need the headache.
Our “pet parent” culture is a strict downgrade from our “parent” culture. It’s all cope. We role play responsibility and parenthood with these animals. And we have bred them down to furry handbags that love it. But we only make fools of ourselves. You don’t need to live in a pet ad. You can stop performing now. I give you permission.
One friend lives in an apartment with two kids. His dog needs to be walked twice a day to pee outside. Splits the pain with his wife. What a schlep. They hate it. Bang your head against a wall, it’s easier.
Another friend got two cavoodles for his three daughters. When they were considering it I told them it was a big mistake. Cute dogs. They were gone within a month. Who has time for that?
Many dogs are given away because their owners can no longer care for them. You won’t see that on your Tik or your Tok.
When we first got Kaiser, a lady quipped that I better enjoy picking up poo for the next decade. Big dog, big poo. I thought it was an odd comment, I now see its weary wisdom.
I like dogs. The relationship between a man and his dog is real. It’s an ancient bond. We have co-evolved together. But they don’t belong in cities, and they are no substitute for kids.
Even if you have kids, instead of getting a dog, have another kid. Kids eventually sort out their own poop. Every time you travel you need to make arrangements for your dog. If you’re going to accept the logistical overhead, the anchor of dog ownership, you may as well create generational legacy. A dog is a half-measure. No half-measures.
There’s a reason Charedim tend not to keep dogs. There is no religious prohibition. But I suspect it just doesn’t work when you have a fertility-obsessed urban culture (compliment). It’s not on the efficient frontier of family formation or urban life.
I had to carry Kaiser into the vet. The vets cooed at me. They saw he was unwell and I had tears welling. They spoke to me in baby-ish euphemisms. Asked me if I wanted to keep his ashes. Whispered comforting words to him as he lay unconscious. Asked me if I’d like him moved into another position before injecting him. I didn’t understand any of it. Hasn’t he suffered enough? It’s not their fault. People crave ritual and meaning. And it is a grave moment. It is lacking ritual. We have nothing to grasp onto. So she whispers, rest in peace Kaiser, in a sing-song voice, as she kills him.
Maybe I say all this because I wish he got better than a backyard and a guy with four kids. See ya, Kaiser.
Yes.
The sad thing for me is to see how dogs have become a substitute for children. Walking daily through the huge garden park in our Spanish city (I won't mention the name, we don't need any more tourists!) the ratio of young women with dogs to those with children is often 30 to 1 or more. Half a century ago the ratio would have been reversed.