I have no scientific evidence, university studies or even wacky conspiracy theories by which to draw the conclusion I’m about to make. But here goes anyway:
Dogs are officially more popular than babies.
That’s right, smiling infants, looking so adorable in your brightly-colored onesies, your inquisitive eyes following any human being who enters your line of vision while you exercise your newfound abilities to smile and wave. Or tempt strangers in airplanes to play peekaboo for the entire flight. And that’s only if you’re on the flight. You may be left at home with relatives while your parents go on vacation. With the dog.
Despite your aforementioned best efforts, you’re number two. You may have even fallen to number three, behind Peloton classes. Deal with it.
I can cite statistics proving dogs are everywhere these days. According to the Center for Disease Control and Prevention, birthrates fell for the fourth consecutive year in 2018. Dog ownership worldwide, various websites confirm, is skyrocketing, with the U.S. leading the way.
Of course, it’s one thing to own a dog. It’s another to lavish equal, or more, affection on a dog than a human. Nowhere is this more prevalent than when December rolls around.
Now family Christmas cards feature a canine front and center. Childless individuals or couples send holiday photos of their mutts. Christmas letters invariably include updates on how the family dog spent its past year proving, despite the owner’s insistence otherwise, that dogs lead very repetitious lives.
“Sadie continues delighting us by frolicking in the yard, chasing rabbits and barking at the television whenever a pet food commercial interrupts ‘Lassie’ reruns, which she can watch daily now that we’ve updated our cable subscription. Oh, and before we run out of space, our oldest was just accepted to Harvard. Happy holidays.”
Incidentally, the same notoriety does not apply to cats. Because cats don’t care. And never will.
It wasn’t always like this. I wasn’t around in the 1950s, but it sure seems like babies ruled. Grainy, black-and-white photos of the nuclear family typically showed Mom and Dad posing with at least two well-scrubbed children as they headed off to church or frolicked on a beach in Somewhere USA. Mom may have been pregnant with number three. Or more.
Where was the dog?
At some point, dogs worldwide must have arranged a clandestine meeting featuring a fiery speech by their leader, who barked and howled that second place was no longer an option. His followers listened and vowed to do better.
They succeeded.
Need more proof? Walk through a park, accompanied by both a baby in a stroller and a dog. I’ll bet you my salary, which isn’t much because, you know, journalism, that passing strangers will ooh and aah over the dog before taking notice of the baby. Furthermore, they will grill the owner with questions about the dog; questions that could just as easily be asked about the baby.
“Boy or girl?
What’s her name?
Is she a rescue?”
OK, the last question doesn’t apply to babies, but you get the idea.
Then, almost as an afterthought, the stranger will glance at the baby as if it’s a houseguest that overstayed his or her welcome.
“So, what’s life been like since you got this?”
Married couples toying with the idea of having a child, listen up. Once the baby arrives, there is absolutely no way to divide your affections equally. The dog doesn’t need midnight feedings; the baby does. The dog doesn’t need its rear end wiped after bowel movements; the baby does. Giving a squirming baby a bath requires infinitely more concentration than a hairy dog. The only similarity is you can talk to both babies and dogs and neither will answer.
If you’re OK with that, go ahead and have a baby or two. Do your part to extend the human race. If you’re not, just keep the dog and continue making it the focal point of your existence. You’ll find plenty of people who have made that same choice.
Just look at their Christmas cards.
