I woke this morning with my beloved in my arms, as they tenderly licked my ear.
‘Good morning, my darling,’ I whispered. ‘I love you so much.’ I rose and, following me into the sunlit living room, we planted ourselves on the sofa to lie gazing into each other’s eyes.
This ecstasy of adoration is how we begin each new day. For, finally, at 53, I have discovered the love of my life, and am living for every last moment of it.
I’m not talking about Terence, my tall, dark and dashing boyfriend. He’d left for the office hours earlier. No, the subject of my devotion is Pimlico, my blue whippet, the hound I dreamed of for decades before acquiring six years ago in October. For I am a DINKWAD, and this is how I roll.
Hannah Betts with her boyfriend Terence and their blue whippet Pimlico
You know, DINKWAD — the acronym for couples boasting a ‘dual income, no kids, with a dog’. First, we had YUPPIEs (‘young, upwardly mobile professionals’). Then, we had LATs (‘long-distance couples living apart together’). We are familiar with DINKs (‘dual income, no kids’), and now we have DINKWADS — DINKs plus Rover, making three.
New research from the charity The Guide Dogs For The Blind Association reveals that we DINKWADs make up 15 per cent of all British dog owners; more so in our area of South London, where bringing up a dog is far more commonplace than bringing up a nipper.
Almost half of this 15 per cent say they are delaying parenthood in favour of their furry friends. Among the 20, 30 and 40-something owners in my circle, I’d say they’re putting off parenthood entirely in favour of puppy love. Farewell, school-gate dramas. Hello, doga (dog yoga) and vets’ fees.
My friend Sophia, 39, is a case in point. Despite having frozen her eggs a few years ago, she has decided that Dennis the Parson Russell terrier, rather than a baby, is her destiny. He arrived 78 hours ago and she is already head-over-heels.
Among younger couples, being a DINKWAD has become aspirational. Click on to social media and watch comely, child-free couples lounge in impeccable white interiors while some fetching Fido basks in being the apple of their eyes.
Here is @life.with.a.landcloud showing off to her 1.46 million YouTube subscribers about ‘finding fulfilment’, ‘a community of dope people’ and ‘travelling the world’ alongside her smiley Samoyed dog Boomer and her husband.
YouTube star Charishma Cohen, aka Life With A Landcloud, who has 1.46 million subscribers, with her Samoyed dog Boomer
I am particularly enamoured of @MattAndOmar jumping for joy in their pants, waving their pooch Yvie’s little limbs on TikTok with the words: ‘When we remember we’ll be a DINKWAD household forever.’
The Guide Dogs For The Blind Association discovered that half of DINKWADs will select a holiday on the basis that they can take their charge, while 44 per cent prefer time with their dog over going out with friends (guilty as charged).
More than three-quarters regard caring for a dog as one of life’s most fulfilling experiences — more than becoming an aunt or uncle, or getting promoted — while 42 per cent declared that they felt more excitement teaching their dog to sit compared with meeting their friend’s new baby (no comment).
I’m actually wild about children, also being a committed PANK (‘professional aunt, no kids’). However, I never felt a desire to have a family of my own — possessing a canine clock rather than a biological version.
After almost a decade together, people still ask whether Terence and I might ‘pop one out’. At 53! The very thought! As dog, rather than sprog, owners we can socialise, travel and embark on life’s adventures on the spur of the moment.
Pim is happy to spend an evening dozing on her tod should we wish to attend an exhibition, opera or ballet (we don’t cart her everywhere with us a la fellow dog obsessive Demi Moore), while greeting us with hysterical happiness at the end of it. Toddlers tend to be rather less self-sufficient; teenagers unwinningly furious.
Besides, the Guide Dog research is right: having a hound is blissfully fulfilling. I used to think I knew everything there was to know about love when, in fact, I merely knew about sex.
Romantic affection is a shabby, contingent thing compared with the epic force that is canine constancy. Dog love is the best love — loyal, uncomplicated, profound — and the vehicle by which we realise how tawdry and inadequate human emotions are.
This is not to say that my four-legged infatuation is any less heady. I am besotted by the silkiness of Pimlico’s fur, the sound of her trotting steps, the scent of her skin.
Her little head is never without a lipstick kiss. I can interpret her barks, not least the one that means: ‘Swaddle me against the morning light, I demand to be wrapped in a velvet blanket.’
Without children to indulge, I am my dog’s slave. And it’s not just me. Terence and I compete over Pim’s affections. (He wins.) She sleeps between us, the ultimate barrier-method contraception. My boyfriend is now her boyfriend, meaning she protests wildly should we attempt the merest touch.
We once had a canine therapy session on a weekend away at Goodwood.
Our expert decreed that Pim is ‘resource-guarding’ — the resource in question being Terence. Our dog is a slave to love, addicted to the three-way oxytocin (the bonding chemical) high we have created in our menage.
Still, Pimlico must be objectively lovely, for even strangers succumb to her wiles. Hardened South London oiks coo over her satiny coat, going gaga for her long-limbed prancing and doe-like, naturally kohled eyes.
Hannah Betts and her beloved dog Pimlico at The Kennels in Goodwood
She has appeared on the covers of three national newspapers and starred in a fashion shoot for a glossy magazine, alongside a Hollywood star. When it looked as if she might have puppies, London’s most fashionable all vied to have one.
Ultimately, Pimlico has brought me tremendous pleasure in life in a way that — as a female and a feminist — spawning offspring might have jeopardised it, given that society still expects mothers to bear the brunt of child-rearing.
In 2009, then University of York social scientist Dr Nattavudh Powdthavee analysed whether having children brings people joy. Writing in The Psychologist, the magazine of The British Psychological Society, Dr Powdthavee asserted that the idea that parenthood fosters happiness is a ‘focusing illusion’.
Instead, Dr Powdthavee argued, there exists ‘almost zero association’ between having children and a state of contentment. Parents may cherish milestones such as a first word or step, but mistakenly imagine these bursts of euphoria outweigh the relentless drudgery of caring for a child.
His conclusion: ‘It is these small, but negative, experiences that are more likely to impact on our day-to-day levels of happiness and life satisfaction.’
Admittedly, Terence and I don’t appear to be as loaded as DINKWADs are reputed to be. Still, we’d be even more broke if we had nippers to nurture and we’re proud to identify as DINKWADs — despite a lack of actual wad.
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