I Love My Dog More Than Any Guy I've Dated--Is Something Wrong With Me?

Resplendent Reader!

Will you help me understand the young woman who signs herself “New England Nun?”

Read on:

Dear E. Jean:

I could use some guidance from you and the Conflab. I'm 37, living in Boston. By my friends’ accounts, I've built a life to be proud of. I thrive in a challenging career in market research, keep myself healthy, play sports, volunteer, and I'm blessed with decent looks. But a strange situation has come up repeatedly in the last few years and it’s starting to trouble me.

The crux of my worry is my dog, Bob. I got him from the pound seven years ago. He looks like a barrel. He’s so comical, so silly, so affectionate, and so understanding that he senses my moods before I’m even aware of them.

However, it's becoming alarmingly clear that my love for Bob surpasses any feelings I've experienced for the guys I’ve met since he arrived in my life.

Take the last four men. They were all good guys—successful, handsome, honest, bright—traits many women would die for. But despite being appealing, not one of these guys managed to stir my heart. We’d go out, meet friends, laugh, hang out, take weekend trips, engage in deep conversation, have sex, go to games, etc., etc., but there would always come a point in every date, when I start looking forward to going home to Bob.

This will explain why my romantic life is an endless topic in my loud Irish Catholic family. “Your Hero,” they call Bob. My three brothers do entire stand-up routines about Bob. My sisters pry into my sex life with Bob. My mother seriously blames Bob for the reason I’m not married and “giving” her grandchildren. (Beyond the fact that I’m 37 and have told her a dozen times I don’t want kids, my mother has already been “given” six grandchildren with a seventh on the way compliments of my brother and sisters!)

Their relentless teasing has started making me question if there's something wrong with me. Why do I find the loyal presence of Bob preferable to the companionship of seemingly ideal partners?

One of my friends is an English professor and she’s pointed out that my “situation” mirrors Mary Wilkins Freeman's "A New England Nun.” Do you know this story? The woman gives up her long-time love and finds herself content in solitary life with her dog, Caesar.

So my questions to you and the Conflab are: Am I drifting into a space where my solitary comfort with Bob is eclipsing the fundamental human experience of partnership and romantic love? Is there an imbalance within me that sways me to prefer Bob's steadfast companionship to a human's touch, conversation, and intimacy?

My family aren’t exaggerating, by the way. Bob is a hero. During the pandemic he scared off an intruder who followed me into my apartment building late one night. The guy stalked me to my floor, and lunged up behind me, putting his hand over my mouth when I opened the door of my flat. Bob roared out and nearly tore his leg off! The man got away, but one of the Boston policewoman who responded said Bob “deserves a medal.”

So, I guess what I’m really wondering is why I don’t feel like I’m missing something. Is it wrong not opening myself up to a man’s love the way I embrace the love of Bob?

Warm regards to the Conflab—New England Nun

Nun, My Kumquat:

Forget the blokes. Forget the jokes.

Marry Bob.

I am serious. Marry Bob! I’ll give you my second, deeper answer in a moment, but now, listen, Ms. Nun: if you marry Bob, not only will you be happy, and drive your buttinsky mother bonkers, BUT!! If you invite Speaker of the House Mike Johnson to your wedding—BRILLIANT!

This is the horrible little man who predicted “People will marry their pets.” So let’s make it happen!

Indeed, to protest and defy the “chief architech” of the far right’s mission to overturn the 2020 election, I suggest we all marry our pets! I’ll marry Guffington Von Fluke, you’ll marry Bob, Mary Trump will marry her parrot, Sebastian, Joyce Vance will marry everyone single one of her chickens, Jen Taub will marry Corny, her snake, and the Mighty Conflab will marry their fish, horses, hamsters, hedgehogs, cats, and iguanas!

And after the weddings we’ll all get busy and help vote out every extremest nutball who’s against women’s rights, abortion rights, and gay rights.

And now that that’s off my chest, let me answer your question: