Christmas Cards and Our Furry Friends

In 2007 – 2008, there were approximately 74.8 million United States households owned by dogs, and 88.3 million cats ran the lives of their humans. That we are a society thoroughly in love with our animals is an understatement. Look at all the businesses that have sprung up in recent years just to accommodate the lives of pets: daycare, dog-sitting (cats would have none of that—an insult to their independence), spas for all sorts of animals, dance classes for pet and owner, clothing, gourmet foods . . . and any number of other unique opportunities now afforded our furry friends.

So if we’re so inclined to furnish Rover and Fluffy a life of luxury, isn’t it just as logical that at this time of year—with festivities everywhere and a sense of personal expression high on our lists—we want to include our pets in our holiday greetings to family and friends? After all, Rover and Fluffy are certainly part of our family. We can’t forget them now.

Some folks even consider their pets to be family and their closest confidante, and treat them accordingly. Take the case of Aunt Martha. She didn’t have any kids of her own, and after helping to raise her sister’s son, Junior, she’s now in need of a daily companion—a boyfriend is just too much trouble. Instead, she gets a dog and lavishes all her attentions on her new best friend. She names him Spot (we didn’t say Aunt Martha was creative), and it’s clear she’s in love.

She goes to dance classes with Spot. She buys him special food, and treats, of course, at the local gourmet pet food store. She even dresses him on occasion—especially when the air takes on a chill and she certainly doesn’t want Spot to catch cold . . . so he’s seen sporting the latest doggy sweater fashion.

On Halloween, Spot gets a costume. He’s a fireman, complete with a badge on the “jacket” on his chest and a helmet strapped to his head; can’t tell if he’s unhappy about this or not. At Thanksgiving, Aunt Martha brings Spot with her to the family gathering, and he sits obligingly in the kitchen, patiently waiting for his holiday feast of leftover turkey, a bit of dressing with gravy, and a roll. Spot loves Aunt Martha as much as she loves him. He’s well taken care of, even if he does occasionally have to suffer the odd bit of clothing.

Then Christmas comes around. Spot knows something’s up when Aunt Martha brings a tree into the house. Spot thinks this odd but he likes it. When he can’t get out of the house in time, well . . . he just doesn’t tell Aunt Martha. And the tree certainly gives him a great place under which to take his daily nap.

When Aunt Martha starts cooing and pointing a box of some sort at him, saying something about a “picture,” Spot simply looks up, glances at her long enough that the box can get off a burst of light in his direction, and then he goes back to sleep. Aunt Martha got what she wanted, Spot’s again napping, and both are happy.

Maybe a week later, Spot shows up under the Christmas tree on all Aunt Martha’s Christmas cards. He doesn’t know it, but the message says, “From Martha and Spot . . . happy holidays to everyone!” Spot becomes a family celebrity, but all he’s aware of is that his new favorite nap spot disappears as soon as he’s become most comfortable sleeping there.

That’s okay, though. There’s always somewhere else to take the place of the tree—Spot will again get comfy on the sofa or the end of Aunt Martha’s bed, where he used to nap before the tree came into his life. Nothing’s hard in the role of Martha’s beloved, and though he suspects he’s a kept animal, Spot does not argue. He knows he’s got it good!

Right along with the other 175 million or so pets in the United States. Spot has no intentions of arguing his place in the human/pet hierarchy. He’ll even live through next year’s costumes and picture-taking, as long as he gets the good food and another special great place to take a nap for awhile.