Dogs have never had it so good

It’s not just childless pet ladies who treat their furry friends like humans.

If dogs really do have the intelligence of a three-year-old, then they’re the toddler that will never grow up.

They’re cuddly, portable and don’t answer back. They’re easy to look after, cheap to run, and fun to be around. They have no idea what you do for a living, or whether you’re cool or not. They don’t worry about climate change, inflation or whether the next season of White Lotus will be as good as the last.

Interacting with a dog gives you the chance to jump into a simpler world where normal stresses just don’t exist.

But as a dog owner, I cringe when I hear dogs referred to as ‘fur babies’. I’m acutely aware that apart from the love, dependency and zero sense of personal space, the similarities between pets and children ends there.

And yet the humanising of dogs is making it harder not to treat them this way – the outfits, the swimming lessons, the day care centres. And not just by childless dog ladies...

I visited the park this week and bumped into Freddy’s mum (naturally we don’t know each other’s names) who told me she and her partner were moving house. They were downsizing to get a garden – so Freddy was in effect upsizing, while they’d be living in a smaller space. We both chuckled.

Then I chatted to Masie’s dad who mentioned she’s just recovered from a bug that was going around the park, as if it was chicken pox at nursery. He looked at me as if he knew how ‘parents at the school gates’ that sounded.

(It doesn’t stop there: just like the playground, there’s a mix of personalities at my local park: the trendy one with the high-flying job who makes you feel a bit self-conscious; the one you struggle to make small talk with, but have to because your mutts are pals; the gossipy one that’s stuck on something you told them in the pandemic and won’t move on.)

So perhaps I don’t need to feel embarrassed about mothering my dog – because we’re all doing it.

How have pets become such a big part of our lives?

Last time I was a pet owner, before Rupert, was in the 90s when I had a couple of cats and my brother had a dog. Back then things were very different. Not that we loved our pets less, but there were limited ways to show it. There were no puppichinos, doggy spas or training puzzles. Just a tennis ball and a sore arm. Naturally, pets felt more like animals then.

I also think they smelled more like animals (all that Pedigree Chum) and weren’t in such pristine condition. My cats Chloe and her son Porky for example were always getting fleas, especially in the summer. I’d often spend idle hours looking through their fur for them to squish (yes this is gross, but we only had four TV channels then). Today’s medication is so advanced that I don’t think young Rupert has ever even seen a flea.

Then there’s diet – a generation ago there were only one or two brands of pet food and if your dog didn’t like either, as ours didn’t, then you’d cook them something like chicken instead. There was no internet, so you had no way of knowing that a chicken-only diet wasn’t actually that good for them.

Allergies and sensitivities weren’t as much of a feature either – for people or pets. But now that intolerances are catered for across the board, we can all be non-gluten, hypoallergenic and anxiety-free. These shared issues can make us feel as if we’re practically the same species – apart from the additional legs.

I still feel self-conscious about being a childless dog lady though

Especially when I notice others like me:

• The woman eating Sunday lunch alone who’d brought her dog’s dish, dinner and blanket along so they could dine together in comfort.

• The woman vigorously waving goodbye to her dog from the window of the bus (the dog was with someone, by the way).

• The woman whose dog’s suitcase is bigger than hers when she travels because of all his paraphernalia. (That one’s me).

I often wonder about what this would have looked like a generation ago – more waving at children than dogs, I’m sure. But for whatever reason, that’s just how things have worked out for some.

For me, Rupert has become a child substitute by default (although he’d probably say he’s the man of the house). Mother Nature programmed me to want to care for something, and now I have that in him. What's more, the organic biscuits, branded accessories, and pet friendly spa hotels make it easy to do; I don’t have to do much to feel like the perfect parent.

Rupert’s never going to grow up, try smoking, or want a tattoo. He’ll never resent the time I dressed him in lederhosen (to be clear, I’ve never done this). He makes me feel as if I’m doing an excellent job, at all times.

Maybe everyone else is just as self-conscious as me about this. Whether we have little kids, grown up ones, or none at all, perhaps the biggest perk of owning a pet is the chance to feel like we’re getting something right. To have control, when so little in life feels controllable. And perhaps the park, where we can chat about how doolally we are about our furry friends, is the one place we can completely open up and relax about it all.

Thanks for reading!