I am a dog lover and have three adorable rascals of pups. I’m also the first person in my friend group to say that having dogs is not the same as having kids. Because it isn’t.
But… every time I try to point this out, one of my friends who is a mother and has birthed and raised children is always quick to point out all the ways dogs and kids are similar.
I was having this conversation with my co-worker recently, and I made the comment that at least children didn’t pee or poop on the carpet. She came back with a story about how one of her children projectile pooped on the stove once.
I’ve said it many times to my best friend. Once, it was on Mother’s Day and she had stopped by to give me flowers. I thanked her, but reminded her that this day wasn’t for me. I didn’t have kids (or a mom). She proceeded to sweep her arm out, motioning to the many, MANY dog toys covering the floor.
“Um… what do you think this is? My house looked like this all the time when the kids were little.”
Okay. Fair. Dogs and kids like to leave their toys everywhere.
I mentioned once to another friend that never do I go from a deep sleep to wide awake faster than when I hear the telltale sounds of gagging and/or pre-vomit hacking. I’m up and searching -- and praying Pippin isn’t under the bed -- then sprinting with said pup to the kitchen so he can vomit on a surface that is easy to clean. They then replied with tales of their own midnight mad dashes to get a sick kiddo to the bathroom before vomit flies everywhere.
My best friend also likes to point out that my dog Pippin has a standing appointment at the vet every four weeks for his allergy shots and takes daily meds. Oh, and the fact that I took him to a dermatologist.
I do have a hard time arguing against that one. I hire sitters even when I’m gone only for the night. I take them with me anywhere that I can (usually Violet). Anytime there’s a scary noise, I’m down on the floor (or half-way under the bed) comforting Poppy. I make sure they come into the house when it gets dark. Pippin has attitude and sass that rivals that of any teenaged girl.
I never wake up without at least one dog in bed with me.
And then, one morning, as I was leaving for work, the neighbor’s dog came bounding up. She sat in front of me, then ran over to the fence, and then came back. She kept looking over at it, then at me, and it was then that I realized, this was the dog version of, “Can Violet and Poppy come out to play?”
So, I will concede that there are some similarities and overlap when it comes to dogs and kids. But -- again -- I will emphasize that it is not the same.
I don’t have to worry about providing them with an education. (My office manager pointed out that obedience schools exist and every dog owner including myself does some kind of training). It’s not necessary to provide them with clothes. (They have matching costumes and shirts.) I definitely don’t have to worry about teaching them to be functioning members of society with jobs and careers. (Violet is likely getting therapy dog training in the near future.)
In all seriousness, having dogs is not the same as having children. I did not go through pregnancy and birth. My dogs will never grow up and go out on their own, creating their own families. (Also, they’re spayed and neutered.) While I often worry if I’m doing enough or doing something wrong, I don’t have a debilitating fear that I will mess up so badly that they hate me and never speak to me again. My dogs won’t leave me until it’s time to cross the Rainbow Bridge. Though that, I can tell you, will be just as devastating as losing any human member of my family.
No, they aren’t the same. But I’m not sure that it matters all that much anyway. I’m not out here saying one is harder/easier than the other -- they’re just different. Harder in some ways and easier in others. Also, life didn’t bless me with kids, but it did give me my pups. And for that, I am forever grateful.