If one polls parents whose children are past the potty-training stage, there are inevitably going to be stories about the accidents that occurred during the process. At my house, this includes one involving the dining room table. I experienced it and still cannot wholly explain it, so I’ll leave it at that. Otter, my rescue dog who’s approximately 8 years old, left a surprise on the rug the other day because of protracted thunderstorms.
Otter is 85 pounds of privacy fence-jumping muscle and energy, an animal that is likely afraid of everything, but that also tackles those fears head on, generally by attacking whatever is bothering him. I wish he’d run around the backyard barking at the sky during storms, as Fuzzy, a previous dog, would do. But storms and fireworks are simply too much for him, so he hides until the pressure gets to be too much and he drops surprises.
My kids, on the other hand, throw a fit about having to get in the hallway when there are tornadoes in the area, but they don’t refuse to use the facilities. Also, unlike the dogs, they have full English vocabularies.
Which is why I find it misguided that more and more people are opting for dogs over kids, ostensibly because the canines are seen as the easier option. And to a degree, this is true. A puppy can be left outside alone, whereas a newborn cannot. Dogs can eat on their own from the time you bring them home. While both babies and puppies grow quickly, only the former requires a constantly updated wardrobe.
Both can also learn how to open doors and inflict some damage, velociraptor-style, though dogs can at least be thwarted by knobs instead of handles. There are some other similarities, but the largest area of divergence between the two is that dogs are way more work than kids.
When thinking about kids, whether to have them at all or how many to have should couples opt to do so, the focus is always on the first few years, which are honestly not the easiest. Babies require a lot of care, often at inconvenient times. Their needs are more varied, especially when compared to dogs, so their inability to articulate them poses more than a few challenges. Once they start walking and talking, though, it gets easier.
For starters, kids are way more trainable, except when it comes to taking care of the other trainable animals in the house. They learn to feed themselves, groom themselves, and exercise themselves. Sometimes they even learn to do things that contribute to a smoothly running household. While dogs can theoretically learn to do those things, it’s generally bad when they start raiding food supplies or “bathing” themselves in a mud puddle during a thunderstorm, as Gretchen, our special needs dog, once did.
At this juncture, I must admit that my dogs are not the best ambassadors for the species. To stop Otter from jumping the privacy fence and getting into adventures involving dead carcasses and attacking other dogs, I had to have a DogWatch hidden fence installed as a second layer of protection. Doing so was very much not free, nor were the fees associated with rescuing either him or Gretchen. As my kids were born before the “Affordable” Care Act, I’m pretty sure the dogs were actually more expensive on that front.
Otter also came with no backstory or name, though he obviously had both, so I was flying blind on what mysteries would unfold as he settled into his new home. With the kids, I could watch myself screw them up in real time and keep a better handle on how to respond appropriately. They didn’t require baby leashes, so I didn’t have to train them on those. For Otter, the process almost resulted in me needing surgery on my right shoulder and elbow. (Why did he try to attack that firetruck, for example, lunging toward it and putting immense strain on my joints? Who knows? Have my kids ever tried to attack a firetruck? Not to my knowledge.)
Gretchen was an orphan and didn’t benefit from early socialization via her mother. There’s also the possibility that she’s simply, by way of genetics, the stupidest dog in the history of dogs. She’s more than 3 years old and still isn’t super solid on her name. She barks constantly and at everything. She tries to attack every other animal she sees.
Every suggestion and strategy provided by reputable trainers has failed. She too wears a DogWatch collar to keep her from attacking the fence, as she knocks the planks loose even if she cannot jump them. She cannot put the cause and effect of the fence together, though, often shocking herself repeatedly in a matter of minutes.
Are my kids unsure about their own names? Well, it depends on why their names are being called, but that’s more about selective listening than a failure to understand. Do my kids bark constantly at the Amazon delivery guy who comes every day or at other kids walking down the street or at things they imagine? They do not.
Would they repeatedly shock themselves if I’d gone with a traditional electric fence? No. Have they ever pushed me to the brink of surgery? Honestly, the youngest went through a period during which she loved hitting me with surprise trust falls that caused me to develop tendonitis in my elbow, so I guess that one is a wash.
Most importantly, though, the kids keep getting more advanced. The oldest is a fully licensed driver these days, which is helpful. The middle daughter is getting close to being a licensed driver. The youngest, very anxious about being prepared, will be technically (if not legally) ready for the driving portion of her exam sometime in the next few months. All three can cook. All three at least understand the mechanics of cleaning.
They dress themselves, do their homework, watch out for one another, entertain themselves and one another, and have never started bouncing off the walls and tearing stuff up because no one took them for a walk. They can even walk the dogs, with enough encouragement.
What they don’t do anymore is leave surprises on the rug, or the dining room table, thunderstorm or no. Also, unlike the dogs, they will be there when I’m old, though whether or not I’ve successfully trained them to care for me at that stage remains to be seen.
