Walk along any street in practically any city in Mexico pushing a baby carriage and you will meet with an unexpected reception (i.e., not the kind involving a knife or a wallet being handed over). You will be greeted by kind smiles from women, knowing, cheerful nods from men, and, most unexpectedly of all, playful words (goo goo!) from youths directed tenderly towards the baby. Older ladies, called ancianas, rush over in multitudes, clasping their hands over their hearts, pinching cheeks, kissing foreheads and often asking to hold the baby. They genuinely crave physical contact with babies, exalting over the child incessantly and repeating the word ‘hermosa’, translating roughly to ‘beautiful’, with heartfelt joy and teary-eyed jubilance. Everywhere you go people seem to love babies and give deference and respect to parents.
For example, Mexican people seem to give right of way to a person pushing a stroller, be it in a strip mall or in a street; pedestrians step aside, rush to open obstructing doors if needed, and will many times let a parent advance to the head of a line up. Crossing a busy street with a baby carriage will literally cause waves in traffic, as drivers will dangerously hit the full stop, without hesitation, to let a stroller pass. Generally, Mexican people seem to have an innate understanding of children, their importance and their necessity.
Now, try the same experiment anywhere in Western Canada, in Calgary, for example, pushing the same tram with the same baby. The reception is startlingly different and far less pleasant. Women generally avert their gaze or ignore the sight of a baby; some may even frown. Men express annoyance, especially when walking behind someone with a stroller or when inconvenienced by one in their path. Youths give virtually no acknowledgement whatsoever, scarcely able to glance up from their smartphones or tablets. Like smart-phone zombies they plod, faces blank, liable to walk into your path (or into traffic.) When confronted by a baby, North American youths generally have no idea what to do or say and immediately seek escape.
Practically everywhere you go you will tend meet with indifference, annoyance and cold eyes. If, heaven help you, your baby cries in public, most Canadians (excepting those with children) quickly become exasperated, disgusted and exclaim about the ‘noise’. When in a confined area, like a store or mall, people most times will not stand aside for a stroller or give preferential treatment in a line up. Few will offer up a chair to a parent searching for a respite on a C-Train or bus during rush hour. If a parent tries changing a diaper or **cough** breastfeeding a baby publicly, people react with horror, grimace and mutter shocked profanity. The occasional closet altruist may even call the police, most especially if a stroller is left standing alone for a moment or a parent corrects a child physically for any reason.
Which brings me to a scenario I chanced to witness while at work not long ago. Glancing up from a project I was working on, I happened to observe a cluster of women gathered around a younger lady. Turned with her back facing me, the girl stood surrounded by the others, their faces beaming, exalted and transported. Their attention was exclusively focused upon what the woman was holding in her arms, and I naturally assumed it was a baby, based on the smiles and gestures. Their words confirmed that it was an infant, and they praised the child animatedly, giggling and cooing. They spoke in baby vernacular, lips jutting out, their eyes sparkling, clearly smitten by the sight. Each of the women took a turn holding the bundle of joy, rocking and bouncing on the balls of their feet, and I couldn’t suppress a smile at the spectacle. I was vaguely familiar with the mother, and was not aware that she had children. She had never seemed the type.
And then, suddenly, the ‘mother’ turned towards me, bundle in arms, and I felt the familiar, sickening lurch of horror engulf me. For in her arms I beheld not a baby at all, as originally expected, but a Great Dane puppy. The animal was swaddled like an infant, and gazed lovingly up at the woman, who comforted it with a form of ‘parentese’ , a soft sing-song voice accompanied by exaggerated facial expressions. The dog, in return, licked her mouth with its slippery tongue. As she made her way around the room, women sprang forth to intercept her, to behold and extol the dog. It reminded me of a scene from a 1950’s film in which mothers gather on a street corner to exclaim over a newborn, to celebrate something toward which they are mutually congenial. Everything about the scene seemed natural, but it had all been perverted by the inclusion of the dog.
My smile faltered and a wave of bitter sadness overwhelmed me like the closing lid of a sarcophagus. How far we as a society we have fallen, I thought. That these lonely spinsters, none of whom had children and balked at the thought of having any, indulge in infant animals to quell their maternal instincts and sate the anguish of lost maternity. As my colleague continued to move around the room, the scene proceeded to play out repeatedly. I felt despair and the familiar disgust with this time-period wash over me as I fled the room. To assuage my rage and indignation, I averted my eyes as I passed by the woman. I could stand no more of this travesty, this farce that continued to strut and fret upon the stage of my workplace. Another parody of human activity in this sickly, skewed matrix simulation of a world we now inhabit.
And yet, really, the scenario did not actually surprise me insofar as I had seen instances reminiscent of it many times before. I was aware that the phenomenon known as ‘human-canine bonding’ existed , and, conversely, the “secure base effect” , as it is known, wherein a dog bonds with a person and prefers to take food and affection only from its master. Scientists at the University of Veterinary medicine in Vienna revealed in 2013 that the bond between dogs and their owners is startlingly similar to the relationship between a human parent and child. Previous studies have “shown that pet owners have improved psychological and physical health” from their canine interactions. The relationship between pet owners and dogs parallels the deep connection formed between young children and their parents.” 
This being as it may, the tendency that disturbs me most is not the fact that humans and dogs bond or form friendships, that a dog is ‘man’s best friend’, or any of the other truisms surrounding dogs. People can and should own dogs, I feel. Rather, what upsets me is the modern trend of supplanting kids with animals, the displacement of human children with dogs and cats, and the slipping birth rates in North America. I’m disgusted by the faltering demographics and weakening fertility of the West, combined with the number of Canadian people choosing to not have children, and the insipid disregard towards family values. It collectively points to a future devoid of European-Canadians and a society entirely reliant on third-world immigrants for self-perpetuation and survival, which I hate. As Tyler Durden states in the film Fight Club, “I felt like putting a bullet between the eyes of every Panda that wouldn’t screw to save its species”. 
So few of the younger women I work with today plan to have children at all. Almost without exception, they have settled for what they lovingly refer to as a “fur baby”, and shower the animal with misguided love. When asked if they have plans for motherhood, invariably they sneer, or laugh aloud at the prospect. They have a ready made list of excuses, undoubtedly the same lies they have told themselves in order to smother their natural instincts over the years. “I’m not cut out to be a parent”, they say. “I can’t afford to have kids”. “Children are dirty and smelly”, they grimace. “The world’s already too overpopulated”, is another favourite. “I’m too old to have children, and I don’t even like children”. Or, worst of all, they say with stupid grins, “I already have a child… it’s my puppy!
To this I retort, “no, you damned well don’t!”, dogs are not people, they’re amusements, diversions, or (to quote Michael Savage), playthings for real children. Human beings are meant to have children, to complete the circle of life, not to spend their lives servicing an animal, sharing homosexual-styled relationships defined by mindless self-indulgence.
It brings to mind a disturbing article I read on July 18th, 2014 in the National Post called ‘Pets as partners: Growing number of young singles treat cats and dogs like replacement girlfriends and boyfriends’.  The column explains that an emerging trend is becoming swiftly apparent among professionals and career driven men and women. Increasingly, adults of child-bearing age are opting to keep pets instead of expending effort on healthy heterosexual relationships. Finding a girlfriend or boyfriend is deemed unimportant, as “there’s always points in time where… there could be stress within that relationship”. Stress, apparently, is just too much for these types, as is the effort needed to search out a real human partner.
Basically, it goes on to say, these working-class professionals are choosing to focus on their careers and their disgusting indulgences, rather than attempting to build an expensive family. They ‘humanize’ the pets, and, “free from family-related expenses, their disposable income buoys Canada’s growing pet industry, …expected to reach $8.3-billion by 2018”. This is defined as a “delaying of family formation”, according to the article, which then makes light of the behaviour and seems to spin the phenomenon as a positive, laughable manifestation. Although the article makes no mention of sex (or bestiality), it seems clear that these pathetic, disaffected people are not just pet lovers, but also ritual masturbators.
How very cosmopolitan, say the post-postmodern pundits! These people remind me of the horrid characters from the hit TV show “Sex and the City”, that concluded in February 2004 (to then be reanimated in two, soon to be three, subsequent motion pictures.) Perpetually desperate, neurotic and lonely, the show features four despicable spinsters dedicated entirely to their fashionable lifestyles, attracting men (who they invariably then alienate), and pursuing tawdry careers. The women are sympathetic to each other’s bleak lives, and so their interdependence catalyzes their running friendship. For three of them, avoidance of meaningful relationships, real responsibility, and most especially children seems the paramount objective. As the lead character Carrie once muses in an all-too-familiar soliloquy: “The longer I sat at that table, the more alone I felt. And it really hit me: I am 35 and alone!”  Sex and the City helped make acceptable a female lifestyle defined by meaningless careers, sexual promiscuity and, most of all, being single.
Shows such as this have undoubtedly helped contribute to the collapse of the Canadian birth rate. For the past 40 years, Canada has consistently fallen beneath the replacement level of 2.1 children per woman. In other words, not since 1971 have Canadians produced children at a sufficient rate to replace themselves . As outlined by Statistics Canada, “Over the past 150 years, Canada has changed from a high-fertility society where women had many children during their lives to a low-fertility society where women are having fewer children overall and at increasingly older ages.” As a Nation, Canadians are considered ‘weakly fertile’.
This statistical shift has resulted in a “transition from a country with a relatively young and growing population to one with an aging population, which is increasingly reliant on immigration for population growth.” Statistics Canada avoids mention of the fact that 3rd world populations are booming and thereby make up the most significant host countries filling the void of our reluctance to reproduce. They avoid discussing the fact that morally bankrupt, culturally inferior and primarily non-European populations are being used as the fountainhead for our replacement and will result in the further destruction of the casual euphemism ‘I am Canadian’. Indeed, “Canadian” culture will cease to mean anything as Canada’s indigenous, European-based population continues to be eroded and debauched in the years to come.
Therefore, I cannot emphasize strongly enough that the contemporary penchant of opting for a dog in place of a child reeks of laziness, of weakness and of greed. I often wonder how people who place pets above children fail to see how shallow their misguided lives have become. I ask myself if they even realize how devoid of meaning their very existence is, as they pour away their most productive, fertile years of their lives in service of animals, not their own offspring. They will never know the glory and wonder of raising a child, never replace themselves on this planet and will passively allow their bloodline, their birthright, a gift from a thousand generations before them, to end without a struggle. As Peter Ustinov once wrote: “Children are the only form of immortality that we can be sure of”. What a pity that so many today fail to realize this fundamental truth.
What a shameful world we are creating today, as dogs replace children, as video games replace meaningful experience, and as the third-world replaces a once intelligent, proud people. A people too lazy now even to breed for themselves. Birth control has today been refined to the point where sex is regarded as mere play, become entirely removed from the act of procreation, while contraception and abortion is paid for by the state itself. Like the inhabitants of the Capitol city of Panem in the The Hunger Games Trilogy, by Suzanne Collins, North Americans have given up and surrendered all to mad abundance.
The name Panem “derives from the Latin phrase panem et circenses, which literally translates as ‘bread and circuses’. The phrase is commonly used to describe entertainment intended to distract public attention from more important matters.”  The citizens of Panem sacrifice any kind of autonomy or liberty for lifestyles of lavish luxury and constant distraction. We Canadians are drifting vacuously toward this type of reality, clutching our dogs, while desperately feigning normalcy. All the while, we struggle to asphyxiate our parental instincts like a lobotomized man’s face beneath a pillow. Are we truly willing to trade everything of value for a simpler life, for fur babies and for ever more bread and circuses?