I don’t know if it was the first time I caught him eating a diaper filled with poop, the hundredth time I witnessed him giving himself a morning blowjob, or maybe it was the thousandth time I caught him taking food from the baby’s hands, the dinner table, the kitchen counter, etc. Regardless of when the moment was, all I know is that somewhere along the way I found myself thinking, “Why in the actual fuck do we have this dog?” Before all the animal rights’ activists come after me with pitchforks, hear me out.
My husband and I have wanted a dog for years. Before the marriage, before the kids, before the utter exhaustion, there was the desire to be dog owners. Years ago while visiting my mother’s house in TN, we found a beautiful Rottweiler in her neighborhood. This was quite possibly the sweetest dog that has ever lived, and though we did everything we could to find her owners, they apparently did not want to be found. At the time we lived in Manhattan and couldn’t have a dog in our apartment, so we spent days meeting with prospective new owners until we found her a good home. It was gut-wrenching to say goodbye to her, and we knew after that, we wanted to adopt a rescue dog when the time was right.
Fast forward a few years, one cross-country move and one human child later, and we are finally in a position to welcome a pup into our home. Ladies and gentlemen, meet Bernie.
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Bernie is a gentle giant (his middle name is in fact, Hagrid) and I love him, but he is without a doubt, also a giant pain in my ass. I know all you dog experts out there are just chomping at the bit to tell me he probably needs more exercise. He doesn’t. Or that we need to train him. We did. We’ve done all the “right” things, but just like my strong-willed child, Bernie is who he is, and it doesn’t appear he’s going to change anytime soon. He’s needy, he’s always in the way, he can’t quite comprehend that he is supposed to eat dog food, not human food, and he’s also not cheap. I weep at the thought of all the anti-aging products I could buy with the thousands of dollars we spend on him each year. Or, you know, college funds.
But then I think about all the benefits we’re told having a dog provides for our sons. Responsibility, compassion, more exercise – the list goes on and on. Here’s the thing though, everyone. According to a recent study, there actually doesn’t seem to be much proof that those common perceptions are actually true! What are we supposed to do meow?? (I know, I couldn’t help myself though).
The findings from this buzzkill of a report, published online by the journal Anthrozoos, are from the largest-ever study to examine the notion that pets can improve kids’ health by increasing physical activity as well as boosting their empathy skills. “We could not find evidence that children from families with dogs or cats are better off either in terms of their mental well-being or their physical health,” said Layla Parast, a co-author of the study. Yikes. “Everyone on the research team was surprised — we all have or grew up with dogs and cats. We had essentially assumed from our own personal experiences that there was a connection.” You and me both, Layla. You and me both.
The study analyzed information from more than 2,200 children who lived in pet-owning households in California and compared them to about 3,000 households without a dog or cat. Unlike smaller studies that had been done in the past, the RAND Corporation study used all these fancy statistical tools to control for many factors that could lead to a child’s wellbeing other than having a pet, such as being in a family that has a higher income or living in a more affluent area.
So where does this leave me? And more importantly, where does this leave Bernie?
I’m not going to lie, I’ve seriously contemplated finding another home for him. But then I think about how guilty I would feel doing that five years in to having him. I mean, we signed up for this; no one made us get a dog – let alone a 100 pound Rottweiler! And, even though this study may not prove it’s better for kids to have dogs, I know for a fact that the study isn’t with us when we take Bernie on walks and are enjoying the simpler pleasure in life, like a good pee on an old tree (the dog, not my kids…usually), or when the boys make sure to give him a goodnight hug before they go to bed.
So, while I can’t say with certainty that we will always be dog owners, I can say that Bernie isn’t going anywhere. He may be currently ripping the stinkiest farts I’ve ever smelled thanks to something he ate that he most certainly shouldn’t have, but hey, my husband does that too so at least he’ll be in good company.
