Four legs good, two legs bad?

Lynne Patrick

I have a feeling this could be one of those posts which makes me unpopular, but I think I’ll go ahead anyway.

I don’t get pets. Domestic animals. Man’s best friend. You know what I mean.

I’d hate to be misunderstood here. It’s not the existence of cats, dogs, small furry creatures, goldfish etc; they have as much right to inhabit the world as I do. And I suppose, if I suspend disbelief for a while, I can see that inviting them into your home might have a part to play in bringing up children, in that they a) teach them about caring for another living being, and b) introduce them to the concept of death before another human being has to be involved. Though I have to say I’ve noticed that it’s more often the adults in the house who care for the pets, and I’m not sure how losing a pet rabbit prepares a child for the demise of an adored and adoring grandparent.

But I digress. You’re used to that. To continue. It’s not sharing the planet with four-legged creatures that I have a problem with; it’s sharing my living space. For (other) reasons I won’t bore you with, a goldfish in a glass bowl was as far down that road as we ever went, and it didn’t last long, though not, I hasten to add, from lack of proper care.

I realize that this makes me unnatural, unfeeling, unsympathetic, probably a whole lot of un-other things, and completely alone in the world, but I’m not apologizing.

It’s just the way I feel, that’s all, and feelings are just feelings, and you shouldn’t need to apologize for having them.

So, taking all that into account, it shall follow as the night the day that I don’t get animals in books. Why do small, or even large four-legged creatures have such an effect on sales? It’s one of those truisms of crime fiction – or do I mean truths? – that you can inflict whatever horrors you like on small children, but hurting a cat or dog will also hurt your sales.

And as for the opposite side of the coin... One of the books I published featured a small, exuberant dog and several cats. They didn’t whisper in the protagonist’s ear; they didn’t provide a vital clue which solved the crime. If they had, the manuscript would have received short shrift; my reaction to such factors has been known to border on violence. They were just there as part of the story, and it worked.

Someone told me, put the dog on the cover; it’ll sell better. I thought, OK, let’s try it. And whaddyaknow, that worked too, especially, for some reason, on sales in the USA; the book became one of our US bestsellers. (I’m told there’s a whole sub-genre of cat and dog crime fiction over there.)

But I still don’t get it. I read a book the other week, kind of by accident, in which a cat played a large part in solving the mystery. I did finish the book; it passed the fifty-page test because the characters were engaging, and once I’d got that far, I wanted to know who’d dun it. But my main reaction was, OK, but it didn’t have to be the cat; the author could have done it another way.

I’m pretty sure the author could always do it another way. Not just could; should. Cats don’t solve mysteries.

I sometimes think I’m writing something controversial in my weekly post, and elicit no reaction whatsoever. Something makes me think this won’t be the case today.

Comments

[Jeff Cohen]

Well, Lynne, either people are suffering in silence or this isn't quite the combustible material you'd imagined. But someday you must get me to tell you the story of the cat on the cover.

[Mario in DC]

Or quite possibly those of us who happen to enjoy pets in books are merely being excruciatingly polite. Or didn't have the chance to read this post until just now. (^_-)

[Lynne Patrick]

I've been harangued and reviled so many times for daring to express this view that it never occurred to me for a moment that it might not be combustible, or that opponents might be too polite to hit back. But who knows? Maybe I just misjudged the Dead Guy-following public.
Look forward to hearing the story, Jeff.