dogs

Can Pets Fill the Empty Space Where Children Would Be?

Sue Fagalde Lick dogs, dogs as child substitutes, fur babies, parenting pets, pets are child substitutes, pets instead of children, treating pets like babies, World Childless Week , , , , , , , , , , ,

Are dogs and cats a good substitute for children? In some ways yes, in other ways no. But they do fill a gap in our lives. 

Yesterday was Pet Day at World Childless Week. Many people posted stories and pictures about their “fur babies.” Read them all at https://worldchildlessweek.net/the-importance-of-pets. 

I was particularly taken by a piece written by a woman who calls herself “LabraMummy.” The owner of two labrador retrievers, she writes, “What I know about being unable to have children is that family takes ALL forms and that being part of a family means being able to love and care for someone other than yourself.”

She goes on: “I know there are people who don’t like the term furparents or furkids but I fully embrace being known as a furmumma. Hence, I call them my family members rather than my pets. To each, their own!”

Another contributor, LH writes, “Being a parent is not only about giving birth to a baby you conceived. After all, we have grandparents and godparents also. Being a parent is about loving something and taking care of it, putting its needs before your own, doing what you can to help it have the best life possible which is exactly what us fur parents do.”

The panelists at a World Childless Week webinar titled “Who Rescues Who” agreed with LH and LabraMummy that while cats and dogs are not the same as humans, they do offer an experience of having a family and they provide a great deal of comfort to those who are grieving the loss of the children they might have had. 

I believe that’s true. It has been sixteen and a half years since my late husband Fred and I adopted Chico and Annie, the puppies in the photo. It was 2008. Fred had Alzheimer’s disease. It had advanced to the point that we had aides coming in because I couldn’t leave him alone. In less than a year, he would move into a nursing home, but we didn’t know that then. 

The puppies brought us a lot of joy at a difficult time. 

Here’s a little of what I posted then:

Fred and I adopted two 7-week-old puppies last week, and it really feels as if I have two babies. They’re the same weight as babies, have the same needs, and fill the same needs in my heart. 

Last night, my church choir surprised me with a puppy shower. There were two baby blankets, but of course no little onesies. I did get dog treats, chew toys galore, balls, weewee pads, and lots of advice. There was a gorgeous, white-frosted cake with big red flowers on it. This may sound totally nuts, but it felt as if I had received something I’d been waiting for all my life. I sat on the floor of the chapel opening presents and soaking it all in.

Puppies are certainly not the same as humans. They won’t take care of you in your old age. Conversations are rather one-sided. And they poop and piddle on the floor. But for the childless person who wanted children and didn’t have them, they’re one way of filling that emptiness.

And the following week, I wrote:

Almost three weeks into it, I feel much more relaxed about the whole puppy business. We’re falling into a routine. I feed them breakfast, take them out, stash them in the laundry room while I shower and have my breakfast, then we all dash down the hall to my office, where they munch their rawhide chews and fall asleep.

Every hour or so we have to go out because their bladders are small. I still pack one under each arm to carry them out because I don’t trust them not to pee in the house, especially when they just woke up, but that’s 27 pounds of dog now. It’s a race between housetraining and dog growth.

Eventually they have lunch, they potty, Fred and I have lunch, and we all go back to work, stopping every hour or so for a potty break and playtime. We repeat the routine until they fall asleep for the night and peace finally reigns over the kingdom.

As for training, it’s coming along, most of the time. They sit, they come, they bite less, although they’re still better paper shredders than the machine in Fred’s office. When they’re not eating, excreting or sleeping, they’re usually wrestling. It drives me nuts. But I think I had a breakthrough this morning. I actually got them to separate and sit perfectly still for at least a minute.

What has all this got to do with childlessness? Lots of things, actually. These are my baby substitutes. There is no denying it. At 56, this is the first time I have ever cared for a baby anything longer than a couple hours. I am learning lessons that mothers of human babies learn much earlier in life, especially this: the child’s needs come first. I’m struggling to spread my attention among the pups, my husband, and my work. I’m losing work time and spending tons of money on these little guys. These are all experiences that are familiar to women with children, but they’re new to me.

Dogs are not children. But I call myself “Mom.” And God help me, every friend who calls or visits gets called Auntie or Uncle so-and-so. I can’t help myself.

Those who follow the blog know that I lost Chico just shy of two years old, and Annie passed away a year ago at age 15. I am just beginning to look for a new dog. Not a puppy. I don’t think I can do that again, but a grownup dog friend who will become my family. 

What do you think? Can pets fill in the gaps where don’t have children and make us a family? Tell us about your furbabies–or if the term makes you cringe, tell us why it does? I welcome your comments. 

World Childless Week continues for a few more days. Check the schedule at https://worldchildlessweek.net. As part of the “Childless Elderwomen,” I joined a panel discussion today on friendships and how we have them when our friends are busy with their children. I’ll let you know when the recording is available.

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Dogs and kids don’t always mix

Sue Fagalde Lick childless dog owners, dog parks, dogs

I held my breath as my dog Annie sniffed at the little boy. Perhaps she thought he was an odd-shaped dog. After all, she knows even less about children than I do. But this little guy was barely old enough to walk, and my 80-pound pup was getting awfully interested in his diapered bottom. Any second, she’d jump on him and scratch or nip his pure white skin, and we’d be in big trouble.

The boy’s mom had let her three kids, ages about 1 1/2, 3, and 6, run free in the fenced dog park, a rectangle of bark chips, poop and shredded tennis balls. The boy’s older sisters played on the dog agility apparatus. Their own dog, a skinny brindled bulldog mix, sped around the park, touching noses now and then with Annie and a massive long-haired dolt of a dog determined to hump everything in sight. (His embarrassed owners would soon haul him away.) Meanwhile, the little boy staggered around in the middle of the park.

I grabbed Annie just before she got too friendly. The mom shouted out something like, “Hey, Winston(!), not all dogs like little boys.” To which he did not react. To him, a doggie was a doggie.

Mixing kids with other people’s dogs is risky. Dogs, as much as we love them, are animals. They communicate with their mouths and their paws. In a flash, they can bite or accidentally scratch someone. Poor Annie hasn’t been around children since I adopted her at seven weeks old. She knows nothing about them, does not understand you can’t sniff, paw or roll around with them the way you can with dogs.

Annie is a childless female like me. Spayed at six months, she occasionally displays romantic feelings, but she doesn’t know anything about puppies or baby humans.

Annie didn’t hurt the little boy, but things got out of hand when the mom passed out cookies and opened a Styrofoam box of French fries. Food! Annie tried to grab the cookie out of the little boy’s hand. I pulled her back. The bulldog dashed over to defend her family–or get some of the food–and a fight ensued. I dragged my snarling dog out by the collar.

I don’t hate kids or mothers, but the dog park is for mothers of dogs, not mothers of people. It’s one place where we can all be equal as dog owners. As my late husband used to say, “Grumble.”

Nobody’s Mother or dog’s mother?

Sue Fagalde Lick childless, childless by marriage, dogs, Lynne Van Luven, Nobody's Mother

I just read about a relatively new book called “Nobody’s Mother: Life Without Kids” by Lynne Van Luven. Teena from Toronto featured it on her blog called “It’s All About Me!” Well, there’s a good blog title. But I wonder if it also relates to people who are childless by choice. It’s all about meeeee, not about some rugrat who’s going to take all my time, attention and money. Never mind. I’m biased. But the book does sound interesting. Although I don’t think it has too much about being childless by marriage, I’m ordering it and will report on it when I’ve read it.
Teena from Toronto says she and her husband Gord consider their dog and two cats their “kids.” I can’t tell you how many childless women have told me they’re gaga over their pets. Does this say they really wanted children but preferred the kind you could lock in the back yard when you wanted to go somewhere or didn’t want them around?
I don’t think that’s true for me. I wanted a dog because I adore dogs. Sadie is not a child substitute. If I had 15 kids, I’d still want dogs.
As I think I reported earlier, my dog Sadie has cancer. She’s doing pretty well right now, but the doctor has decided more chemo would be too hard on her, so we have a couple months with her at best. Very sad, but we try not to ruin the time we have by thinking too far ahead.