Puppy Rage — Are You Afflicted?
I have a sickness. It runs deep. I have a serious case of puppy rage, and the only cure is more puppies.
Hi. My name is Deb, and I love puppies so much that I wanna smush them and punch them in the face, furiously. It has been one day since I have mentally smushed a tiny animal. Aaaaand, now it has been no days.
WAIT!! Please don’t shrink away from the screen in horror. I have enough self awareness and control that this never has, and never will, happen in real life. But the compulsion is real, folks. There is an actual affliction out there called Cute Aggression:
It’s an aching feeling of deep affection that many of us can barely control. When we see an adorable creature, we must fight an overwhelming urge to squeeze that cuteness with everything we’ve got. And pinch it, and cuddle it, and maybe even bite it. (Carly Casella, Science Alert, December 2018).
While my most animated reactions tend to come from seeing tiny dogs, cute aggression is not specific to puppies. It has been shown to occur as a response to most baby animals and humans, especially if they have disproportionately large eyes. Think: The Lion King’s young Simba, Boo from Monsters Inc., or any of the 101 Dalmatians (Oh my god! Think of the massacre!!). Oh yes, Disney is a master manipulator in this arena; tugging at our heartstrings when those characters, with eyes taking up more than half of their faces, give you that look. If those eyes are accompanied by an emerging tear or a quivering lip…all hope may be lost.
As I mentioned, these reactions are not exclusive to puppies. Grown dogs can elicit a very similar response from me, and I’m equally triggered by babies. Am I really the only person out there that wants to take a giant bite out of chubby baby thighs? I can’t be. Buttery, soft skin, abundant rolls…They’re just so juicy!!! And cheeks! Oy, the cheeks! Don’t even get me started on tiny, puppy toe-beans! I want to squeeze them so hard that they pop!
Although most definitely not to the same degree, we’ve probably all experienced some level of cute aggression at one time or another in our lives. Humane societies and animal rescue organizations are in the know and prey on this human condition. They pair the big-eyed, tiny-nose faces of small, shivering animals with a gut-wrenching Sarah McLachlan song. When these ads come on, I want to reach through my screen and punch their little snoots…the dogs, not Sarah McLachlan. Charities supporting starving children in developing nations do the same thing, but with humans. Then they sit back and watch the Debs of the world empty their bank accounts into that cause.
If it’s not already obvious, I am a deep feeler. I have been accused, perhaps playfully, perhaps accurately, of being compulsively, tragically, and scarily passionate. Whatever emotion I experience, I feel so deeply that it simply takes over. If I love something, I am in with my whole self, hokey-pokey style! If I am against something, my stance is firm. If I’m the slightest bit sad, then I am already crying. If I am disinterested, it’s already gone from my mind. This does make me guilty of some very black and white thinking, but I can at least own this about myself. However, it’s no surprise that I would fall victim to cute aggression, and hard. I am an empath who is utterly helpless in the presence of cuteness. I am also aware that I reside at the extreme, and that the majority of the world can exercise greater self control when a puppy crosses their path. Me? I squeal.
My initial response to seeing something ridiculously cute is typically shaking, like I’m a short-circuiting fembot getting a bit too much mojo. I start clenching my fists, as if holding on for dear life to stay in control. Somehow, it morphs into the idea that I am intensely squeezing these deliciously adorable fluffy-faces. It’s not violent or gory at all. It’s almost as if they are stuffed toys and I’m just squishing fluff and filling. But it is intense. And I have come close to drawing blood from my own hands from squeezing so hard. Perhaps I should learn to manage this better…perhaps I should trim my nails. Next comes the jaw clenching and hand punching, as if my brain and body are negotiating a more favourable release. While I may or may not be guilty of punching my boyfriend in the arm when he shows me pictures of puppies, quick little reminder…I have never hurt an animal, nor would I. In fact, the research indicates that cute aggression is a protective response, as being overwhelmed by cuteness is contrary to survival instincts and functions.
“cute aggression” may serve as a bottom-up mechanism for regulating overwhelming positive emotions. In support of this hypothesis, Aragón et al. (2015) found that the relationship between ratings of how cute something is, and cute aggression was mediated by the experience of being overwhelmed by positive feelings. The authors posited that evolutionarily, it would not have been adaptive to become incapacitated by positive feelings in response to a very cute baby who required caretaking. Therefore, the dimorphous expression of cute aggression may occur to regulate these overwhelmingly positive emotions (Aragón et al., 2015). (Stavropolous and Alba, “It’s so Cute I Could Crush It!”: Understanding Neural Mechanisms of Cute Aggression, Frontiers in Behavioral Neuroscience, Dec. 2018)
I have commiserated with a close friend who is also a victim of this malady. She, however, is not a puncher. No, she mentally chucks these scruffy bums against the walls and watches their helpless little bodies slide down into a lifeless heap on the floor. I feel her pain. We send each other pictures and videos of dogs, fully aware of how the other will react upon seeing it. When I am feeling particularly self-torturous, I subject myself to lengthy sessions of puppy videos on YouTube. But, in the interest of public safety, I only do this when not surrounded by people outside my household. It can also be a bit embarrassing, as I have been known to squeal in ranges only heard by the dogs themselves. Case in point: it is a literal dream of mine to be surprise-surrounded by pups, and when I was sent a video of that very thing happening to someone, this happened:
Yes, this is my completely honest reaction. No, I had no idea I was being filmed (trust me, I would have taken my hair out of the top knot, thrown on some makeup, and ditched the Covid uniform of sweats!). I have dropped numerous hints that this kind of puppy surprise MUST happen for me, and sooner than later, but to no avail. So if you’re reading this and you know me well enough to do so…seriously, I need this! I give you my word that all puppies will be gently loved and cuddled, and none will be violently punched, or squeezed, or thrown against a wall. I won’t, however, make any promises about the decibel or pitch levels I may reach.
With all of this puppy love pouring out of me, one would likely conclude that I am a dog owner. I am not. This is only partially by choice. I did have a sweet beagle-spaniel mix when I was growing up. We got her when she was six months old, so I missed that giant-eyed, trip-over-her-own-long-ears phase that I have been longing for. Freckles, named by my grandmother — I will absolutely not take responsibility for that name, lived with us for 8 years before she, sadly, became very ill and we had to put her down. That was in 1996. I haven’t had a dog since. I’ve had kids, lizards, fish, frogs, and a whole lotta hamsters. The kids I kept. The animals were with us for varying lengths of time, and most lived to their expected lifespan. Not all of the hamsters did, however, and that is a gruesome tale for another day. Suffice to say, do not put more than one hamster in a cage at a time. Lesson learned. Twice.
Back to dogs. My kids have been asking for one for years, but there were always reasons why it wasn’t the right time, and I will not bring home an animal that I am not ready to commit to, one hundred percent. But I think that time is nearing. Working from home with flexible hours, I have the time to give to a puppy in training, and I could use the daytime company, so it’s definitely on the radar. I’ve been spending hours on every nearby shelter and breeder site that Google will list. It’s safer if you’re not around when I do this; my computer screen, however, is in serious jeopardy. And as much as I would prefer to get a rescue, it just doesn’t feel right to deny myself the sheer joy of the all-encompassing rage that would come from snuggling a seriously punchable puppy face, every single day.
Until that day comes, your dogs are safe in my presence. I promise.
Deb, in bed.
For more Deb, in bed, follow me and please check out the previous entries in the series:
