Are Americans crazy
for treating our pets like kids?
By Sharon L.
Peters, Special for USA TODAY
The shopping frenzy has
begun. Sweaters, toys and cushy new beds all for “other family members, the
pets.
The season of giving inevitably prompts pet
lovers (53% of dog owners and 38% of cat owners) to gift their animals, often
lavishly, says a survey by the American Pet Products Association.
It also prompts the question: Is there
something, well, weird about that?
•81% regard their pets as full members of the
family.
•58% call themselves their pets'
"mommy" or "daddy."
•77% buy pets birthday gifts.
•More than half say they talk about pets more
than politics or sex.
Well, grinches, here's what mental health
professionals have to say about all this pet-loving goofiness: The blatant
puppy love much of America is displaying does not spell the end of society as
we know it, and the pet-obsessed are not pathetically off-kilter humans in need
of intense therapy. "What's the
harm?" says Stanley Coren, professor emeritus of
psychology at the University of British Columbia and a Psychology Today columnist on human-pet interactions.
"Someone may go spend $20 on a rhinestone collar. That's pretty much the
worst that will happen."
"Most people recognize, whatever
endearments they use or actions they might take, that their pets are not furry
humans," he concludes. But emotionally healthy humans have the "need
to nurture," and pets are the perfect recipient. They return the favor of
all the love, care and baby talk with their innate ability, proven in
scientific studies, to reduce stress, speed healing, and improve humans'
fitness and social-interaction levels.
It must further be noted, Coren says, that
people's relationships with their pets generally have none of the
"conflict that probably exists" in their relationships with humans.
"Who can't use more of that sometimes?" he adds.
Although many think treating pets as family is
brand new, it's centuries old, Coren says. In the 1700s, Frederick the Great,
king of Prussia, was deeply devoted to his dogs, and when his greyhound Biche
died, he wrote wrenchingly of his heartache: "It is best to be too
sensitive than too hard." Playwright Eugene O'Neill didn't get along with
his kids but adored his Dalmation Blemie, who had an Hermes raincoat and a
four-poster bed. In Julius Caesar's time, women toting small bejeweled dogs
about Rome was quite the rage.
"We tend as a society to be very
contemporary-centric," believing the current population has invented every
pattern of thought and deed, Coren says. The way he sees it, this magnificent
obsession "is not a sea change, it's merely a trend."
Treating pets like family is "especially
pervasive … among empty nesters, singles and/or childless, and the
homebound," says Waco, Texas, psychologist Julia Becker. Those groups are
growing because we're living longer, and also because so many people aren't
having children. Her feeling about pet obsessions: "It's fun for the
people who do it. There's nothing wrong with it."
Lexington, Ky., teacher Susan Sallee is
unapologetic about her affection for her basset hound, Gerdi. She threw a party
for Gerdi's first birthday in January, sends her to doggie daycare when she
works late, and displays puppy photos at work. "Some people may think
that's ridiculous," she says with the lack of defensiveness of a person
confident in her choices. Athough Sallee has a rich, full life, she's warmed by
Gerdi's presence. She'll gift her at Christmas — probably new squeaky toys,
gourmet holiday doggie cookies and possibly a new bed. "It's my responsibility," Sallee
says, "to give her a good life." And if what Gerdi has is beyond
merely a "good life," Sallee sees that as tit for tat. "Gerdi
gives so very much."
