Cultural experts say people are finding humanity in pets

By Michael Tsai
Advertiser Staff Writer

Dr. Herbert Rebhan wrote a chapter in "Chicken Soup for the Pet Lover's Soul," one of the pop culture offerings for those who bond with animals. Advertiser library photos

"I figured it was the end of the world," said Teague, a former Honolulu resident who runs the Survivors animal shelter in Los Angeles. "I looked at that woman (host Sonya Fitzpatrick) and her guests, and how serious they were about the whole thing, and I figured this was fall-of-empire, hit-the-button time. I couldn't believe it.

"Actually," she said. "I could believe it, but I didn't want to. I mean, I love and respect animals, but that was just weird. What does something like that say about us as a country?"

The show, a runaway hit for the Animal Planet network, features Fitzpatrick — sort of a Dr.-Phil-meets-Miss-Cleo — mediating discussions between pets and their owners. On the show, Fitzpatrick has "talked" to cats, dogs, birds, bears, tigers, even ferrets. And although the network cautions that the show is for entertainment purposes only, "The Pet Psychic" has drawn a serious and loyal following.

The success of "The Pet Psychic" is the latest and perhaps most out-there example of what some pop (and pet) culture observers see as a trend blurring the dividing lines between humans and animals.

In other words, we're starting to think of animals as a lot more like people.

The evidence, seemingly, is everywhere — from specially formulated pet blanket detergents to doggie-biscuit cookbooks.

Where authors like George Orwell and Soseki Natsume once used animals to expose our humanity, pet quality-of-life gurus now implore us to find the humanity in our pets.

That's just fine for Wendy Gallagher, unapologetic pamperer of three cats and one dog, and a regular viewer of "The Pet Psychic."

"I think the average person understands that there's a difference between pets and people," she said. "I don't see anything wrong in valuing your time with (your pets). The things we love about our pets are usually the things we love about people."

On TV, animal characters like Eddie in the series "Frasier" have assumed more sophisticated, participatory roles, providing silent punchlines in comedy skits.

Cuddly animals have always been strong attention getters. But programmers and marketers are making the most of the emerging reality: presented in the proper dramatic or comedic light, animals are often more compelling than humans.

For many cable subscribers, Animal Planet rivals the Food Channel for default comfort viewing. Advertising agencies have ushered in a renaissance in animal spokespeople, casting aside the passive Spuds McKenzie type for more lively, computer graphics-powered characters like the AFLAC duck, the GEICO Direct gecko, and, of course, the Taco Bell chihuahua.

"You've got to go back historically," said noted veterinarian and author Marty Becker. "At one time, animals were just animals and their value to us was just utilitarian — they guarded the house and killed rats. But in our generation, we saw a migration from the barnyard to the backyard to the bedroom. They became part of the household, then part of the family."

Becker, who visited Hawai'i last month, is the author of the 1999 best-seller "Chicken Soup for the Pet Lover's Soul" and a new book, "The Healing Power of Pets." His column, "The Bond," is carried by 350 newspapers via the Knight Ridder News Service.

He said the welcoming of pets into human spaces, physically, emotionally and intellectually, has corresponded with a pulling away from traditional human interactions.

"We used to be much closer to other people," Becker said. "In northern Idaho where I'm from, people used to stop by and visit each other in the evenings. They don't do this anymore. Nowadays, you don't want them to, and they don't want to.

"We like our cocoons at home," he said. "So many of us leave work feeling like a human pi–ata and we come home to be healed. Our relationships with people have diminished but we still have that timeless need to love and be loved, touch and be touched. And pets fulfill those needs."

Becker says simple chemistry also plays a role.

Pets offer us unlimited affection with no strings attached.

"Close contact also produces phenylethylamine, same as chocolate," he said. "So petting your dog is like nursing a baby and eating a chocolate bar."

Sociologist Penny Siu theorizes that the human-pet bond has been reinforced as a by-product of the move by many young, college-educated Americans to put off marriage until their late 20s and 30s.

"The period between matriculation and marriage has been progressively extended over the last 20 years," Siu wrote in her essay, "Please Hold."

"Young professionals are delaying their personal commitments and, as a result, are living alone, living with a nonspouse significant other, or, more and more, living with a pet for five, 10 or 15 years before marrying," Siu wrote.

"In many cases, a young person's first long-term adult relationship — one with complete with responsibilities and expectations — is with a 'transitional' pet."

And, as Becker said, pets have become proxy kids for some people — kids who don't talk back (not in English, anyway) and whose safety, health and happiness can be more carefully controlled.

"Most of us don't really care about each other's kids," Becker said. "We have to fight to be interested when people talk about their own kids, and if those kids do well, it can become competitive. But people love pets. They'll ask you about them and you can brag all you want. It's joyous communication."

Becker doesn't necessarily advocate the replacement of human relationships with human-animal relationships, but, he said, "We're not going back to the old days. It's not going to happen."