I've been thinking about pets for the last few months. As you know, my parent's dog died and they got a new, ever-so-cute puppy. The puppy is delightful to play with, is impossible to look at without saying "Awwww" and generally an emotional parasite of the highest order.
And this got me thinking "Why do we like pets?" I mean, what is it about dogs and cats and other furry mammals that make is go "Awww", when Lizards and spiders and suchlike make us feel quite the opposite?
And then, today, a piece of Scott McCloud's book "Understanding Comics" struck me - he says that the reason that simple cartoons engender more empathy than complex works of art is that by abstracting out defined features, we create an image that anyone can identify with. This then made me think of something I read when reading about dogs when the parents were looking at puppies, that dogs have basically been moulded by people over the centuries so that they are in a state of perpetual teenager-dom. They never grow up to the point of being independent or wanting to lead their own pack - they are always subservient to us, friendly and playful.
This struck me as I watched the end of the Simpsons
episode where Selma decides she wants children and then ends up with an Iguana as a pet instead. Pets are children substitutes in a very real way. They're even cuter than babies, talk back less than teenagers, are always up for fun and games, don't have their own lives, won't leave you when they grow up and are basically a lot less trouble, a lot cuter and a lot simpler than relations with human beings.
And they are this way because we bred them into our ideals. If you ask me, it's all a bit Brave New World. I've been feeling uneasy about pets for the last few months, and I think I just put my finger on why...
