Sibling Rivalry

It's no secret that I didn't like being an only child, so the very second I found out I was pregnant with my first child, it was a given I'd have to repeat the experience, and it's why I've almost always had more than one dog.  And there's no doubt that my trio now are very bonded.  While, like all siblings, they have their moments where the others get in their way - like this morning when Geddy was trying to cuddle and Sirius wanted in on the act and got a serious cold shoulder from his brother - they do clearly love one another and rely on one another's company.  But, because they are all unique individuals, and only one of them is perfectly content and well behaved in public, I've been worrying lately that I play favorites without meaning to.

I remember the mother of a friend of mine telling me once in sort of an oddly adult conversation for my age at the time that she loved each of her children equally but differently (I was always fascinated by family dynamics, so I had flat out asked her about her experiences as a mother of three and was impressed that, instead of blowing me off, she gave me pretty straight forward answers to my questions).  I've thought of that conversation often over the years, because she was so spot on.  Both of my children were different people, so the love I had for them reflected them.  Same is true for the dogs: Rooney is the sweet, shy child, Geddy the reformed troublemaker that still has some social awkwardness, but a true heart of gold at the core, and Sirius is the enthusiastic and good natured youngest child.  My love for them is, I'd like to think, entirely equal, but unique to their unique personalities. 

But love and like are two different things.  And the question my friend's mother did skirt was whether she liked any of her children better than the others.  (The whole conversation was prompted by my friend's assertion that her mother favored the youngest sister, and I was bold enough to want to explore that directly.)   Love and like are two different layers that relationships have.  And the reality is you can, of course, like someone without loving them.  For example, many of us like a lot of our co-workers, but don't love them.  Or, as my mother was famous for pointing out to me, you can love someone without liking them very much (when she was angry with me, she would sometimes say, "I love you, but I don't like you very much right now" - I used to think that was a horrible thing to say to a child - being the child - but later, when the roles were reversed, I have to confess, I felt the same way fairly often).  So, do I like my dogs equally?  And vice-versa?

Sirius met another collie on a recent trip alone to Highland Park

Solo trip to a park

It's on my mind lately because I've set a goal to explore places in Pittsburgh I've overlooked previously.  There are a lot of them, and many are outdoor spaces, so dogs can come along.  I got a little too comfortable with the same routine - my car can practically drive itself to my favorite parking spot to get to any of the three sports venues and back.  I'm so routine driven, if I open the maps on my phone right now, it would tell me what the traffic pattern and time of arrival to the movie theatre is.  But this is an amazing city with a lot of history.  I am missing out by not stretching out of my comfort zones and exploring it.   I'd like the dogs to come along when they can.  But Rooney gets sick and it's distressing to her, and Geddy can just be a handful.  My husband swears he's overly aggressive at dog parks.  I disagree, he's fine when he goes with me, but will agree he's hard to handle in public generally because he pulls on his lead wanting to meet everyone and will "speak" to them in that falsetto voice of his that is not altogether unlike the range of his name sake.  Some people find it charming, but some people are not dog people and it bothers them.  We've charted our walking routine to the parts of the neighborhood that seem to be the least active so he doesn't regale too many people with that voice of his.  That leaves Sirius, who is good on a leash and sociable without being pushy about it.  In short, a "normal" well socialized dog.  He'll get protective of me, I've noticed, if I'm with him by myself, but even still he's lovely unless someone tries to approach me, and then he barks to let them know when they've come too close - I actually like that.  So, he's gotten to come along on the last two adventures by himself.  And I'm clearly feeling guilty about it.

Geddy and Rooney, both sitting right here, don't seem overly traumatized, so it's probably just me.  But, the burning question is whether I'm playing favorites and am being a bad dog mom.   I don't know.  I'm wondering how other multiple dog owners handle their "pack" in public, and would welcome any comments.

In the meantime, like in all things in life, if you're uncomfortable with a situation, do something about it.  So I think my goal over the next several months is to get Geddy trained to be better on a leash and work to condition Rooney to the car.  Someone suggested taking her on short rides, then gradually increasing the distance.  I feel better with a plan in place to put them on a equal footing so we can always just load all three up anytime we decide on a weekend adventure without even thinking about it.  In the meantime, it's a beautiful day, so I'm trying to figure out what I can do with the three of them, determined not to exclude anyone.

Now...let's see how that goes...