My children, my dogs
by Janine Adams

I don't have any children. But I feel like I have children. They just happen to be covered in full-body suits of black curls. I'm talking about my dogs, standard poodles Kramer and Scout. I love them like kids. They may never be able to say, "I love you" in so many words, but when I look in their eyes I see my love reflected right back.

When your children are dogs, people just don't give you the same kind of consideration they give other parents. There's no maternity leave for new dog owners, for instance. Before I began working for myself, I was lucky enough to have a boss who understood my need to run home and let the puppy out of his crate. But he was a rare gem.

My parents clearly feel that my brother's human kids are more important grandchildren than Kramer and Scout. They've never sent the poodles a birthday gift. And they never ask to speak with them on the phone. Okay, my dogs can't really talk on the phone. But neither could my two-year-old niece. But that didn't stop my parents from trying.

But the truth of the matter is that Kramer and Scout are a huge part of my life. They're great company. As a freelance writer, I work from home. But thanks to them I'm never alone. Or lonely.

They get me out of the house during the day, demanding regular romps in the park. And being big, beautiful dogs, they attract their share of attention (certainly more than I attract on my own). When I walk down the street with them, people stop to chat. In a big city like New York, that's worth a lot. Sometimes even I think I'm nuts, but I truly regard Kramer and Scout as small furry humans. They do an excellent job of telling me what they want. Kramer stares at the cookie jar for a treat. Scout has a special yip that means "I need to go out right now."

Like any siblings, they have distinctly different personalities. Kramer, who's six, came to us as a 9-week-old puppy. I'm not saying he's neurotic (though it's true he won't walk through a half-open door), it's just that he's sensitive. He never does anything wrong in the house‹he saves that for our walks in the park. But he turns into a mass of jelly if his sister Scout gets in trouble for stealing food (like the time she pulled a chicken carcass off the counter and got caught eating it).

Scout, now five, came to us when she was three years old. Her past is a mystery, but she's a happy, scrappy gal, who's willing to break the rules if the payoff is large enough. Both dogs make my husband and me laugh every day. And they've been known to make me cry when they're sick. One of their main jobs in life‹and they're very good at it‹is to make us feel better when we're sad or stressed.

I realize that not all dog owners see their dogs as child equivalents. Some people think the very notion is heresy. Even some dog people might shake their head in disgust at my public admission of my feelings toward my dogs, believing I'm doing the dogs no favors by treating them like humans. I do recognize they're dogs. I make sure they know that my husband, Barry, and I are their leaders. They've been to school. But if theirs is a dog's life, I wouldn't mind living it.

Some examples:
Despite the fact we've lived in Brooklyn only a year, I know my veterinarian here very well. I know her work schedule, her home telephone number, even her birthday. But neither my husband nor I have a doctor yet.

Kramer developed a chronic intestinal problem this past year, and since then I've put more time into researching nutrition than I have in the fifteen or so years I've been responsible for feeding myself. I've cooked for them while pouring myself a bowl of breakfast cereal for dinner‹while not giving a thought to what my husband will eat. Don't get me wrong. Cooking for the dogs is limited to those times when they have gastrointestinal distress and need boiled chicken and rice. Cooking for Barry is limited, period.

Speaking purely for myself, I have dogs. I don't need kids. At least for now, they fill whatever slight maternal urges I might have. (Sorry, Mom and Dad.) I'm happy to say that I'm not alone. A survey of pet owners by the American Animal Hospital Association in 1995 revealed that 61 percent of the dog owners surveyed believe that caring for their pets fulfilled a need of parenting. The previous year, 69 percent of dog owners surveyed said they give their pets as much attention as they would to their children and 54 percent of the survey respondents said they felt an emotional dependence on their pets.

I did a little informal poll among my dog-owning friends. I admit I interact only with dog fanatics like myself. And most of them are childless. So my perspective is admittedly skewed. But when I posed the question, "Do you view your dogs as your kids?" not surprisingly, the answer was an overwhelming "Yes!".

When I talk with my friends about their kids, I'm frequently struck by the similarities between raising kids and dogs. Like kids, dogs will test you, so you have to set reasonable limits for them and reinforce those limits firmly and consistently. (I checked with a parenting expert on this one.) Time outs work well for both kids and dogs. And if you don't give either species the attention and stimulation they need, you'll be sorry.

For me, dogs have some distinct advantages over kids. They won't grow up and move into their own apartment. Toilet training and puberty are relatively quick and painless. There aren't any dating issues. I can actually control their hormones. They don't borrow my things (at least not now that they're past the chewing stage). They don't talk back (much). And if they're really bad, I can put them in a crate.

They're not perfect, of course. They may be dependents, but they're not tax deductible. And they won't support me in my old age. But the real biggie is that I'll probably outlive them, which I can hardly bear to think about. I know how precious children are to their parents. But for me, for now, like many other childless dog owners, my dogs are enough. I'm not asking for them to be included on my health insurance policy (though that would be nice) or as beneficiaries on my life insurance (if I had any), but I do appreciate it when my close friends ask how the dogs are before asking anything else. That may not sound like much, but it sure works for me.

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