“Oh, I have a son too!”

My sister said this to the couple in the café, pulling out a picture of her pitbull and showing it to them on her phone. I like to imagine their expressions of anticipatory delight slowly fading from their faces as they saw that it wasn’t a human child but a furry family member. Maybe they thought, “Ah, we’re dealing with a mentally ill person; we should be nice.” But the truth is – that had it been me sat there with them instead, they’d not have gotten much of a different dining experience. We’re two sisters, not quite yet old enough to be called old-maids (though I feel like it this morning) and neither of us have propagated any fleshy mini-me’s. Our reasons may be different, but our substitutes are the same: dogs.

And we’re not alone in anthropomorphizing them into children.

In fact, a recent study looking at MRIs in women with families and a family dog, noted that the same brain areas were activated looking at their pets and their children. There was, however, one vital difference – that in the dopamine reward system of the brain. It’s said this part of our brain is typically associated with binary relationships involving either romantic or parental love. As you might expect, this bit lit up when looking at their kids – but not when looking at a dog.

So, is that the difference between authentic love and mere sentimentality?

That reward system?

And is that what’s happening when people take their pets to these doggie spas and retreats I hear about – those places you can pamper your pets paws with manicures and massages? There’s obviously a market for it of people who “love their dog” that much. The thing is, most of the people I see bringing their pets to those places do it as a kind of a status symbol – not a show of love to a fellow living being. Much like any expenditure on a child, it doesn’t prove love. No, I tend to think love is when you can empathize with the needs of a creature, and offer it to them.

For example, let’s test how much you love your dog:

Which would your dog like best:

1. A walk.
2. A game of Frisbee.
3. Some bacon.
4. Being shuffled around in your cramped tote bag like a bonzai cat to strange places.

I have to assume that my dog’s doing what she likes best when she wags her tail.

And walk time, belly scratches, play, treats, and car rides all achieve full on butt-wagging status till she looks more like sperm with fur. It makes me happy when she’s happy. And much like my sister, I feel like we just might be those outliers who, while pulling out pics of our pitts and shih-tzus, would indeed have that reward system of our brain light up. Some might say, “oh that’s just because you don’t have children” – and maybe that’s true for some people. But it doesn’t explain why I have to feign interest in people of all sizes – especially those who’ve just been molded in and ejected from a uterus – yet I spontaneously combust with excitement around dogs.

What I really want to see, though, is how many of these MRIs compared dog love to partner love – or (better yet) children against other children. You know, to finally settle which of us daughters mom loves more.

Or whether she hates us both compared to the fuzzy grandchildren we bring around.

Well… my small, sweet, non monstrous one at least.

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