Happy Fathers Day Pet Pappas!

We’ve talked many times about whether or not your pets are your children…..  the simple answer is  “Yes!”, of course.  So I wanted to take a moment to say “Happy Fathers Day” to all the pet pappas out there.

I wonder how pet mom and pet dad roles are divvied up in other households.  And is that similar or different to the roles of your own human parents while you were growing up? 

For us,  it mirrors the roles of my own human mom and dad. 

My mom put down the rules and enforced the rules.  She made sure everyone was fed, clothed, got up and out on time for school, went to all of their medical appointments, and was home at the time they were supposed to be.  On the positive side, she was also the one who was privy to most of the diary-level details that girls like someone to talk to about.  

Dad also made sure our school and life to-do lists were checked off in a timely manner.  But in the bigger picture, he was also the fun one who planned vacations,  took us out on adventures, and gamified everything so that, although we were being productive, it always felt entertaining. 

Even though they both had their share of rewarding and stressful parental duties,  if we were being honest, dad got to be good cop while mom got stuck with bad cop.

Of course most of us don’t fully appreciate what bad cop does for us until time has passed and we look back upon it with a more mature perspective.

Now as a parent of two cocker spaniel daughters,  somehow I have taken over the reigns as bad cop, while my husband holds the bright torch of good cop. 

Don’t get me wrong,  each of us shares both preferred and thankless pet parent roles,  its just that the division tends to be less than equal.

I do get to be the one who feeds them,  and that earns me a fair amount of clout in the dogs’ eyes.  But I’m also the one who makes them go out in the heat, cold, and rain to go to the bathroom, and follows them around with the poop bag to clean up their offerings to the earth. I’m the one who makes them take baths,  endure standing in the tub and getting wet.  I’m also  the one who takes them to the vet and groomer,  which makes them suspicious and wary of getting into my car when it’s just me.  Oh, and I’m the one who always says “No” when it comes to whether or not they can share in the tasting of my husbands aromatic snacks.

My husband is the one who initiates all the fun games.  Running around in the back yard, throwing the ball, tossing the frisbee.  He is also the inventor of games the dogs are not quite sure are fun, but still always seem to want to join in just to check it out.  He was the creator of “dog burrito” where the dogs get swaddled in a blanket, and “dog taco” where they are gingerly nestled between two couch cushions.   He was the originator of “dog clothes pile” for which he swore they did not want him to put his clothes away, since they so enjoyed laying on top of them on the futon by his computer.  He was the pioneer of “dog birthing” where he would zip one up in his sweatshirt and then wait for their head to pop out.    He is also the one who will hold up the remnants of his dinner plate telling them,  “I would give this to you, but mommy won’t let me”.

Our little black cat Misty was pulled into his dad hijinx too.  My husband somehow got her to play with tennis balls.  Though she never caught on to fetching it,  she did like to sit on it as if she was nesting an egg.  He was also the innovator of the “cat pack”,   where he would put her in the hood of my sweatshirt, paws on my shoulders, claiming she enjoyed traveling around the house this way.  All this, and he rolled his eyes at me when I tried to teach her to walk outside on a leash.

It’s interesting how our furry kids relationships with mom and dad subtly differs.   I’m the one they think they take care of while he is the one they hang out with like buddies. 

I usually go to bed earlier, while my husband stays up with insomnia and watches tv.  The dogs will follow me upstairs, wait in the bathroom while I brush my teeth, and then jump into bed next to me to snuggle…..  for about one minute.  As soon as the light is off and we have found the perfect comfy positions,  they jump back out and run back downstairs to watch tv with him on the couch.  When I wake up in the morning, they are back in bed with me, in the same exact spots they were first in when we initially went to bed.  I think that they think that I think they were with me the whole time. 

I guess in the end, it doesn’t matter who gets to fill which role, as long as our pets get all the care and love they need and deserve. 

Do I sometimes wish I was “the fun one”?  Sure.  But I’m really more grateful that they have a fun one.  Everyone needs a fun one.  So thanks for being their fun one, husband, and bringing out that big smile on their furry faces…..  Happy Pet Fathers Day!   

But how about next time,  you bring them to the vet and I’ll toss the frisbee?!