We'd Make Great Pets

Here’s the scene: It's 1:45 A.M., my big TV is tuned to Oprah and I'm laying on my couch, a package of Watermelon Pull-N-Peel Twizzlers on my belly (which, I’m well aware are totally gross, but I needed something sugary and I remembered they'd been in the back of my cabinet for about a year. Fortunately, though, thanks to their chemical composition, they were still soft & mushy.) And I just can’t turn away…

Why? Because my girl, O, is crawling around on her hands and knees in her home in California canoodling with her dog, Sophie. She was doing this location shoot to discuss the quiet shame she feels regarding the anti-social behavior of her beloved pooch: Sophie, it seems, is a biter. Oprah said she thought the problem was that the dog had low self-esteem issues, and she knew somehow she was responsible, despite the fact that she'd treated Sophie like a queen for the past 10 years.


So what is Oprah, arguably the queen of esteem herself, going to do about something like this? Well, she went and recruited a guy known as the Dog Whisperer. (Who knew? I mean Horse Whisperer, Baby Whisperer, sure. But Dog Whisperer? Can't we be a touch more creative? 'Whisperer' is like the psychological equivalent of adding the word "gate" to a scandal.)

But it seems the Dog-Man did right by Sophie, and managed within the space of a commercial break to break Sophie of her decade-long biting binge. For his troubles the Dog Whisperer will undoubtedly have a best selling book out by the end of September. Oprah was thrilled. She again got down on her knees. She cooed at her dog. She made funny faces for her. She sure showed the dog who was boss... and let's just say Sophie will be signing the checks from now on.

But, as a non-pet owner who frequently considers getting a dog for herself (you may call me the Pet-Equivocator), the whole thing makes me wonder what the instinct is that makes people treat pets like babies. I know people who have strollers for their doggies. I know people who dress their doggies up in little leather jackets. I know folks who cook gourmet meals for their dogs. That’s a little nutty, no?

Am I just heartless? Is this another insight about my maternal instinct. Or is it that we’ve become so domesticated ourselves that the thought of an animal acting like an animal is too painful for us? So what’s my modest proposal? I say let bitches be bitches and let them run free. After all, it’s what I do myself...