The heart wants what the heart want, so if you find yourself in the unusual position of loving your dog or cat more than your human children, I suppose there’s nothing to be done about it. But for the love of God, do not write a big newspaper article about it, and definitely do not make your children pose for photos to illustrate it.
Today’s submission from the Isle of WTF is a story by writer Kelly Rose Bradford, who says she loves her dog a much as her son, and sometimes more. This is a Daily Mail article and there is almost certainly a fair amount of trolling involved–How better to get readers engaged than to give them a mother doing something wrong for them to get upset about?–but clickbait aside, she actually wrote this article and included both her real name and her son’s.
Bradford writes that her dog, Matilda, is like a daughter to her.
“But Matilda is not my daughter. She is my four-year-old West Highland White terrier, and I freely admit that I love her as much as I love my 11-year-old son, William. In fact, on some occasions I love her more than him. And I don’t feel a bit guilty about admitting that.”
Her reasons for loving the dog better are basically that the dog is a dog. Matilda is needy, possessive, and if left alone in the house for a week would surely die. Bradford’s son, William, is an 11-year-old boy, which means that unlike the dog he doesn’t like to be kissed in public, leaves messes in the house, and sometimes talks back or doesn’t do as he’s told.
Bradford also says she’s keenly aware of having less time with Matilda than with William, because dogs don’t live as long as human beings and she has to cherish every moment.
“I need to make her every moment as happy as possible. I want her never to feel unloved or unwanted,” Bradford writes in an easily Googled article called called “I Love My Dog More Than My Son” with her son’s picture right underneath it.
OK, fine. She loves her son and the dog, but loves the dog in particular because it needs her more. I don’t get it, but a person can’t always control those kinds of feelings. What I really don’t understand is the impetus to write a long article about it. If I loved my cat more than my infant, or even as much as my infant, I think I would spend a great deal of effort making sure my kid never found out. Part of being a good parent is not letting your kid think you prefer your dog to him.
When writing about children under one’s own name, one must assume the child will eventually read it. Google exists, and reading about oneself on the Internet is only going to get easier in the next 15 years. But in this case it’s not even a matter of Bradford’s son finding out about the article in the future, because he knows about it now. The article is illustrated heavily with photos of Bradford, Matilda, and William, and William does not look thrilled about being there.