Ever since I started my new job back in December, my already limp post-college social life has come to a grinding halt. I used to see friends a few times a week and leave the house occasionally for purposes other than work or errands, but now I spend all day at the office, crawl home through miserable traffic, and sloth around the house until bedtime. My only companion is my friend Henry; we spend hours together each night in my room, sitting together quietly and enjoying each other’s company. Henry is my space heater.
Last night was no different. It had been a long day at work and, knowing that I’d be driving The Landlord to the airport this morning at six o’clock, I’d planned to spend the night in. While cleaning the house, I found a book entitled “The Experts’ Guide To 100 Things Everyone Should Know” and decided that I would pass the hours until bedtime learning basic things like how to change a tire, hold a baby, and negotiate a raise. I didn’t bother to check if they had a section called “How To Get A Life” – the excitement would have probably killed me.
The book turned out to be very interesting and highly entertaining, but no passage amused me more than the one about understanding your pet. The author of that segment reasoned that pets are not so much animals that live in our houses anymore, but rather valuable and beloved members of the family. As such, you should speak to your pet like you would any other member of the family, and treat him/her in such a way that encourages your pet to strive for good and intelligent behavior. If you do this, the two of you will have a wonderful, fulfilling relationship.
And then you can catch your pet’s droppings in your bare hands.
I’m not going to argue that this author does not have a good point in his suggestions about relating to your pet; I see a lot of what he discussed in my interactions with Kobe and I know that Kobe responds positively when I shower him with attention and affection. But I also see that Kobe and I are already relating too much like family members; although we both love each other dearly, we find fun new ways to irritate each other every day. He is no longer a dog, but rather a sulky, furry teenager that can’t speak.
For example, Kobe knows I don’t like to be licked on my face, so when I won’t pay attention to him in the morning, he licks my eyelids. I know Kobe can’t stand when I hold him like a baby and rub his toes, so when he is being too pushy, I tickle his feet until he runs and hides. Kobe is well aware that the bed is my territory and yet he anchors himself like a boulder in the dead center, making it impossible for me to move during the night. I am certain that Kobe hates it when I put food products on his forehead, but I consistently smush peanut butter on his face just so I can watch him struggle to lick it off. The list goes on and on, but the point is that I don’t need to humanize my relationship with my pet anymore than I already have, or Kobe will start talking and telling me that I really need to get out more and also buy him more steak.
Before you decide that I am a horrible pet owner for tormenting my dog and pestering him with condiments, please get your facts straight. I’m not a horrible pet owner, but just a horrible person in general. When I have children, I plan to wrap old clothes in new toy boxes and laugh heartily at Christmas when they open them and are crushed with disappointment. It’s the least I can do to repay them for the poopy diapers and the screaming and the incessant speaking.
But the truth of the matter is that the author of the “How To Connect With You Pet” passage is completely right – the more you treat your pet like another person, the more they take on that role in everyday life. My dog and I may spend a lot of time irking each other with our actions, but we also couldn’t possibly be any closer. I actually look forward to getting home and seeing Kobe at the end of a long day, and I know that despite the endless ways I make him unhappy, he is genuinely thrilled to see me too. And in that way, he’s the best family I could have ever made for myself.
Even more fun…wrap empty toy boxes!
one halloween, I stopped by a friend’s house to say hello and avoid the drizzling rain. I took the liberty of eating several handsful of the little boxes of nerds his parents were giving out. well, not the boxes themselves … instead, my friend’s father had me save the empties so he could put a penny inside, tape the boxes closed, and give them out. I thought that was pretty evil. of course, I then made sure to empty even more boxes to perpetuate the evility.