Never did I ever think Lena Dunham and I would see eye-to-eye on anything. Even with my glasses on. Sure we’re both girls living in New York City, but besides that we don’t really have anything in common. For example, she lives in Brooklyn and I live in Manhattan. She looks good in short hair and I look like a young boy auditioning for the part of a street urchin in an amateur theater production of Oliver Twist in short hair. And finally she’s dating someone in the band Fun. and I am only interested in dating someone who appreciates the value of not haphazardly putting periods in inappropriate places.
But yesterday she said something in an essay for The New Yorker that I could actually relate to — despite the fact the piece casually included the phrase “country house.” She wrote about dogs and wanting dogs as a child and getting a dog as an adult and how you can never figure out what that smell is at PetSmart, but it makes you miss your childhood hamster and simultaneously wonder why your mom ever let you keep something so disgusting in the house. Slash, the last thought is mine. But it’s dog-related so I threw it in there.
After waxing poetic about dogs for approximately 900 words, she threw in this gem.
Just discussing your dog can be as tiresome and offensive as talking about the weather, your own dreams, or the newest wrinkle in your married sex life. At least when people talk about their children, there is a chance that the kid will grow up to be President.
And I can’t help but wholeheartedly agree. We live in a world where everyone’s constantly oversharing everything on social media. And while my friends (and frenemies and straight-up enemies) haven’t quite reached the kid point on Facebook, they’re all definitely at the dog point. I can’t even tell you how many photos I’m subjected to on a daily basis of people of dogs being dogs. It’s one thing if your dog’s a classically trained dancer or a Jay Leno impersonator or an extra on a dog food commercial But it’s a whole other completely uninteresting thing when your dog’s just a dog. If this how much people share when they have dogs, I fear for the days when my middle school classmates who I haven’t spoken to in 15 years start popping out kids.
Look, I love dogs. I grew up with several. But I’m well aware that my dog’s not any more interesting than your dog. So that’s why I don’t bombard you with photos and videos and faxes and anecdotes about my dog.
For once I feel compelled to say that Lena Dunham’s right. Listening to people talk about their dogs is tiresome and offensive and frankly, I’m tried of having to pretend I care that your dog slept in a funny position yesterday. So let’s all agree to stop sharing photos of our dogs. Unless they do something cool, like learn how to work a pooper-scooper or file my taxes for me.