I was in the office yesterday, dusting, when I came upon Emmett and Mulan.
They aren’t doing much in their pine boxes, just sitting around waiting for something interesting to happen. Much like they were in life, in fact. I don’t want to scatter their ashes yet because we’re debating moving in a year or two and I’m still feeling terrible guilt over abandoning Nuke’s ashes, buried under a willow tree at my last house. So they wait.
I run my finger over Mulan’s name, and sigh.
“Mulan,” my husband says over my shoulder. “Not the brightest bulb in the box, but she sure was sweet.” He pauses. “Emmett was pretty smart, though.” He always says this.
Even in death, they can’t escape my husband’s blatant favoritism. Whenever a diaper got dragged out of the trashcan and demolished, poor Mulan took the blame (which stopped only when I actually CAUGHT Emmett in the act, at which point my husband declared it was only because Mulan taught him bad habits, despite never having seen her do it.)
He tried training Mu for the treat on the nose trick a few times, but gave up when he came 3 millimeters away from losing a finger. He blamed it on her being too dumb to get the trick. I maintained she was too smart to waste time making him happy when he was just going to call her dopey anyway so might as well get the cookie and get it over with.
Now don’t get me wrong. I agree she wasn’t a super smart dog, and that is OK. Her gifts in life lay elsewhere. But I never told her that. I can only be grateful the dogs didn’t understand what we were saying, since it would certainly have driven poor Mu to Prozac, drowning her sorrows in Frosty Paws, or at least looking sadly at us with her big brown eyes.
To a certain extent, playing favorites with your dogs is kind of something they expect. Unlike with kids, where the unending pressure of splitting every gift, cookie, and treat into perfectly equal and symmetric segments is enough to drive anyone to drink, dogs kind of expect you to designate the head guy and place everyone neatly into their place in the hierarchy. Practically speaking, you are kind of supposed to show a little bit of favoritism to reinforce pack order or whatever the heck Cesar Milan calls it, which I don’t really know since I don’t watch the show.
But I don’t know, maybe I’m anthropomorphizing too much here, but there was a group of girls who were always mean to me in junior high. They would laugh and point behind my acid-washed denim-wearing back* and say stuff, and even though I didn’t know what they were saying I knew the tone, and that tone was very obviously saying “LAME!” and I don’t mean “la-may” though that did coincide with the pair of gold lamé Hammerpants I had in ’89 which explains a lot, but the point is it still hurt a little, even if what they were saying was true.
My greatest fear when I had human kids was that my husband would treat them the same way. I pictured my little boy sobbing in the corner while my daughter gloated over him saying, “I’M THE SMART ONE! HAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!!!” Fortunately for me they are both brilliant, but even if they weren’t my husband is much more egalitarian in his treatment of the primates in the house.
I know I’m more sensitive to these slights than I have any right to be (trust me, Mulan couldn’t have cared less). With only one dog and one cat in the house (for now! ha ha!) I have no way to evaluate if fatherhood has in any way softened my husband’s approach to the animals’ emotional well being and self esteen.
So fess up. Do you play favorites? Do you think your pets notice or even care?
*It was a cropped acid washed denim jacket, and then I took puffy paint and painted a white tiger on the back by hand. It was very Napoelon Dynamite of me, in retrospect.
I play favorites, but then again it’s because my dog is super sweet and I’m pretty sure my cat was dropped on this planet as a punishment to mankind. I think she’s actually happy having Puzzle be the favorite, though – when she was the only pet, she got more attention than she ever wanted.
I lol’d at the cat comment. My mom has one of those. 😀
My husband will go up to our little one and pet her gently on the head and say “jokingly” – You’re my favourite. I always need to remind my self they don’t know… but that doesn’t mean they can’t tell. But our two dogs have quite different personalities so it isn’t unreasonable to think that there could be a favourite. Unlike my husband, I think that they just have different strengths and I enjoy their company more or less than the others’ depending on the activity or situation.
My husband definitely played favorites with the cats and does so now with the dog we have and the dog in his imagination. Poor Frankie gets no respect, and not surprisingly, their relationship still has issues. Thankfully he is more even handed with the kids.
In the real world, I never play favorites – everybody here is all equal all the time. In the blog world, however, the burros and barn cat get way more than their fair share of pixels, just because their personalities are so over the top.
It’s tough, because I love all the cats pretty much the same, but I think Sophie, Beast, and Ava get more affection from me because they seek it out. Cleo is happy to follow my husband around the house, and isn’t really the lap cat that other 3 are. Stella, our new puppy, probably gets the largest share of favoritism from me, just because she is new and shiny and a puppy and adorable…oh, and she seeks it out. She wants to be with me all the time, and she doesn’t care where I am, she just wants to be there, too. My husband on the other hand thinks she is a smelly dog who needs to stay outside, so obviously she isn’t his favorite.
I’ll sheepishly admit that I indeed played favorites among the tan butts. BUT in my slight defense, Blade was my first born. I knew him from 3 days old. He was my canine soulmate. He was me, but in dog form. When Cookie came along, we both looked at her the same way: WHO is this traitor? And WHY is she in my house?
I never neglected or ignored Cookie. Blade just got more attention. He got the bigger treats (although in his defense he had 50 lbs on her). He got the prime spot on the bed, she got a dog bed on the floor or she was at the edge of the bed. He got to be on the couch with me which she slept on the other couch (which I think suited her fine because she had all kinds of room). On trips to my parents on the lake, he went, not Cookie. But that was my dad’s rule. On canoeing trips, he went, she only went once. But that was because I didn’t know how unpredictable her behavior would be and would she attack some random dog. She was still be rehabed at the time. And besides has anyone truly tried to canoe with a combined 345 lbs of dead weight? (120-Blade, 70-Cookie, 155-ex spouse)? It’s not easy or fun. And I think we spent more time in the water than in the canoe.
So see I have lots of rationalizing in my head as to why Blade was my favorite. I don’t think Cookie minded though. She still loved to cuddle and returned nuzzles. And was just as happy to see me when I got home. She’s making up for it now though, being alpha dog. Her brother certainly taught her how to become a favorite with those big brown eyes, the Rottie butt dance and need to always want to cuddle and nuzzle.
Yes I do, Scooby-doo my 9 yo squishy lab mix definately holds a special place in my heart I can’t explain why but I think it has something to do with the fact that I for most of Morgan’s life I couldn’t get her to sit still for more than 2 minutes at a time. Now that she’s older (5 yo now) I find that her personality is finally coming through all that extra energy and I love her more each time I see her, unfortunately thats not often enough since they are in Georgia and I’m in Kansas….I’m going to go cry now.
I definitely played favorites. Akira was a young pup when we found out Chase had cancer. He was the eldest dog, at 9 years old. He was the quiet one. He was happy just laying around the house, going outside twice a day and that was it. So since I had a super hyper husky puppy (the breed that I had wanted for sooooooooooo long) of course I played favorites. I would yank her up on to my lap and play with her, while barely saying hi to Chase most days.
I felt super guilty after he passed away for awhile. Of course, the two months we had known he was ill and wouldn’t be around for long, we treated him like a king and he got tons of attention and treats, but I surely felt guilty about that for 4-5 months before he became ill, he was barely even noticed. It still eats at me now, infact, and it’s almost a year since his death.
I try to split time evenly between Beethoven and Akira now though. Granted, I will admit, Akira does edge out in getting a little more attention and her favorite place on the bed to sleep. But Beethoven is 5 and Akira is 1 1/2 and obviously still a hyper crazy girl. Plus we are the only two females in a house. We have the husband, Beethoven and two cats, all males. So I think we have that female bond too, to be quite cheesy. To make up for it though, Beethoven is definitely the husband’s dog, as to where Akira is mine, in the attention department.
There were three: Temperance, smartest dog in the world, a bit aloof and even, dare I say it, catlike; Holly, ditzy and wild and happy all the time; and Ozzie, abused in a former life, couch potato and I-Will-Love-You-Forever. Temperance was my favorite. But there were Temperance Days, and Holly Days, and Ozzie Days. I guess it depended on my mood. Now they are all gone, and we have Poe, the puppy. I have to work not to compare him to Temperance. I keep saying to myself, “He’s not Temperance, he’s his own self.” But as he grows, I have accidentally called him “Temperance” twice now. This fills me with both guilt and hope.
My in-laws had 2 beagles and they would ALWAYS blame the boy for Anything and Everything. It was the same situation for us, where we caught the girl in the act, told them what happened (e.g. peed in the house, upturned the bathroom trashcan, etc.), and they still said, “Kayla? Really? NOOOOO….Really?” It was uber-frustrating bc Harley was the submissive one and he just wanted to please everyone. Kayla passed away first, so Harley is now the Alpha dog in the house. Karma. 🙂 He’s loving it…
ahhh, man, I miss Emmett and Mulan 🙁 They were BOTH smart! 🙂 Well, you know where I stand with playing favorites. O’Malley lost that battle a loooong time ago, thank God for Libby! Hopefully my patience for Sergeant will improve soon.
I definitely play favorites.. but it’s not my fault, I swear! I’ve had Miss Belle, my 7-year-old doxie mix since she was 6 weeks old. She’s my baby! Now.. the kittens. They’re 4 1/2 months old, and they destroy everything they touch. But they do get their share of loving and treats, cuz they’re just so darn adorable, but I can’t help myself. Belle’s my princess, and always will be. The cats are just her toys, lol
Yeah, I play favorites. Ruthie (you can see her in my avatar) is my little 4lb gem. I got her as a puppy, and she’s the sweetest and friendliest Chihuahua (really – ask anyone who has met her) on the face of the planet. Hopper, my older dog, was a breeder in a puppy mill and has serious trust issues with people. She prefers being on the outskirts of my attention, so it seems to work OK in my house. I wish I could dote on Hopper more, but she gets so terrified when she’s picked up or touched, that I just kind of let her enjoy her golden retirement years how she wants: on a cushy pillow in her (open) crate – her safe place.
I have two cats and I definitely play favourites, and I think they both know it. The elderly cat will always be my favourite, and not just because I’ve had her longer. I love the fact that Lolita is always entertaining and keeps things interesting (sigh), but Sybil and I mesh so well it’s ridiculous. I even find ways to excuse her sleeping on my black clothes every chance she gets when the same action out of Lolita gets a shrieked “NO! BAD!” (which is totally ignored).
Lolita is jealous. I don’t know if it’s because I’m clearly playing favourites or if it’s just in her nature or if it’s because she’s still almost a kitten. But if I even talk to Sybil she comes running in from another room to butt in. Sometimes I feel guilty about it, but I do love both of my cats and both of them get plenty of my attention, so I try not to feel too bad. I’m sure Lola will grow on me with time.
I’m so horrible at playing favorites. Pru is definitely my baby girl and I spend far more time with her than the two kitties in my home, but like a previous commenter said, it’s really because she seeks out my attention. Harry, my eldest cat, has recently been coming out of the bedroom more and demanding attention, and he’s getting it in bucket loads. I really do love my kitties.
I try not to play favourites, though Pandora (my little ginger cat) is super cuddly all the time and very needy, so she tends to get more attention just by default. However I set some time aside for Percy and Zowie every day. Now, if only Pandora would allow others to snuggle with her while she snuggled with me (especially her brother)… we’d all be in heaven!
I don’t play favorites but I did drive my Lab’s ashes around in the back of my Jeep Wagoneer for years. We were in the Navy and I didn’t have a Place to bury her. Driving in the car was one of her favorite things to do. Finally buried her beside a tree at my in-laws’ house with Brownie the Mouse.
So there was no question when Sophie came into our family that Bailey was #1 — but she was there first and much older, so Sophie tested her a little and then decided she was okay with having Bailey be the boss. We’re struggling with that a little now that Oscar has joined the crew, because his personality is more like Bailey’s and so I confess that he has a little more of my heart than Sophie does. I make sure to give her lots of love and attention, but I do wonder sometimes if she knows and resents it. So far I haven’t seen any “hey – I was here first!” behavior, but it will be interesting to see how things develop as time goes on and Oscar kind of comes into his full personality as he grows up.
And, BTW, I have Bailey’s ashes in a beautiful urn and they aren’t going anywhere except with me. Ever. We’ll be scattered together!
Can’t help but play favourites. Certain animals attach themselves to different members of the household. At my mom’s Baby (our mastiff/lab cross) was my stepdad’s dog, though she spent most of her time with me when he wasn’t around. My mom’s ocicat Precious attached herself firmly to me, which made my mom jealous beyond belief, and then I had my own tuxedo cat Ushi Neko who was mine from the get-go. Whenever I go home to visit, these cats ignore everyone else else int he household for me. I wanted to take them with me when I moved out, but my mom loves them so much and I couldn’t do that to her.
I dislike their male cat, Charisma, cause he picked on my own Kitteh, but my stepdad loves him to bits. Everybody loves Scruffee, she’s a tiny long-haired beauty with bluish silver fur, absolutely gorgeous, and she loves to cuddle. She comes when you call her, and she talks a lot. I miss Scruffee.
At home, Chewy is equally our dog, and Leo and Kitteh are my cats. Tommy and Yoshi are Drew’s cats, they like me well enough, but they prefer to be with him. I don’t think it’s so much us playing favourites as it is the animals playing favourites. They pick us, anyone who has ever adopted an animal knows this. You don’t go in there and go, “Oh, I like this one. I’ll take it home.” They decide they want you, and leave you no choice.
I really don’t have a favorite between Isis and Summer, although Summer gets a heck of a lot more attention. She needs it because of everything that’s wrong with her, but I do end up feeling guilty as it seems to me that Isis’ quality of life has plummeted since we acquired Summer. All I know to do is to make the best of it and try to give Isis as much love and attention as I possibly can.
How is Summer doing, by the way?
p.s. I meant to make the name ‘macula densa,’ not my alternate e-mail account. =P
We definitely played favorites when we had Shaq (Lab) and Hobie (Sheltie mix). Hobie came first, and we loved him dearly, but when we got that blob of a black Lab puppy, all bets were off. Shaq grew to be the alpha dog in the house and in our hearts. And I still think that was okay with Hobie. He never lacked attention or food or anything else he needed/wanted. And the older he got, I think he was almost grateful that Shaq was around so he could just go off and rest and not have to entertain us!