I’ve decided my son is like a dog. I know that sounds a bit strange to say, but
let me share how I arrived at this conclusion.
It started a few weeks ago. The
idea slowly infiltrated my brain as I was over hearing a conversation about
pets. A “dog person” and “cat person”
were talking about the pros and cons of each respective species. Not an abnormal conversation by any means. How often have each of us engaged in a
similar discourse? This time, however, was
different. This time I was struck by the
characteristics that each owner ascribed to their pets.
“My cat is very independent and resourceful. That’s what great about cats, they aren’t
needy like a lot of dogs. (S)he pretty
much takes care of him/herself and only comes up to me when they need
something. (S)he really doesn’t care for
strangers either.”
“Well my dog is really smart too, but (s)he also loves
people. (S)he will run up to anyone and
great them, just begging to be petted.
(S)he will sit and shake hands, and fetch until you tell him/her to
stop. You can tell (s)he loves doing
tricks because (s)he knows it makes people happy.”
What stuck with me was the formulation that cats = independent,
stubborn, indifferent = good; and dogs = loyal to a fault, overly friendly,
people pleasers = bad. Big, dumb
drooling fur balls that will fetch until they fall over if only because it
makes the owner happy are to be laughed at; while sleek, cunning and
manipulative felines should be praised for their disregard of others and
attention to their own needs. I thought
to myself, “If the chief enjoyment you derive from owning a cat is that they
don’t actually need you, why have a cat at all?” Of course as I thought about the owner making
these statements I began to see the appeal of owning cat. They weren’t exactly a “people person”
either. Traits that are largely negative
when applied to humans were being spun into positives when applied to a
cat. Perhaps it was because there were
no false pretenses when it came to the cat.
You knew from the beginning that this pet was only using you for food
and shelter. It wasn’t pretending to like
you or even enjoy your company only in the hopes of getting something in
return. “If I want you to scratch me I’ll
let you know, otherwise you stay on your end of the couch.” Granted not all cats are like this, and some
dogs wouldn’t realize you weren’t there until they got hungry, but the “positives”
of cat ownership struck me as odd.
This brings me back to my son. My son loves competition. He will race you to the front door of the
house, from the car to church, across the playground, even from the kitchen to
his room. He loves playing video games
and “keeping score”. If he can turn it
into a game and somehow keep track of who is winning, he’ll do it. I know this sounds like a bad thing,
especially in the context of this blog, but bear with me. The reason he loves competition… he likes to
see other people win. He hates losing
himself, so he doesn’t want other people to feel like a loser. He cheers when I beat him. He loves it when his sister makes it to the
door first. He cares so much about how
other people feel that he doesn’t mind suffering defeat if it means they are
happy about winning. He is always asking
me “Dad, are you happy?” If I say no, he asks what he can do to make me
laugh. Last night he told the same
knock-knock joke about 20 times because it was making me laugh. Not so much the joke itself, of which the punch
line consisted mostly of the word “poop” in various word combinations, but the
fact that he was trying so hard to make me laugh. Everyone should be happy, everyone should be
having fun. I told him yesterday that if
the world had more people like him, it would be a better place. If more people were like dogs… big, drooly
and dumb… but so full of love they would fetch til they dropped, the world
would be a wonderful place.
