Per a U.S. News & World Report analysis, the goldendoodle is the preferred dog breed among Utah pet owners. But I didn’t need an official report to know that these animals can be found in every corner of the state. They’re in city apartment buildings. Suburban backyards. They’re on hiking trails that wind through the majestic red rock in the southern part of our state. They’re on the snow-covered slopes in the northern. They’re in the grocery store and the shopping mall and the hair salon. They’re like a very cute invasive species. One has even infiltrated my own home.
Goldendoodles are known for having the intelligence of poodles, the athleticism and loving nature of golden retrievers and a hypoallergenic coat, which is a must for my allergy prone husband and children. But it wasn’t the intelligence, athleticism or allergen-free coat of my goldendoodle, Mabel, that won me over. It was her face.
Mabel has the cutest face I’ve ever seen, which I hope does not read as a slight to the loved ones in my life with human faces. It’s just an objective truth. Her eyes are big and dewey, her nose is a perfect button shape, and her mouth turns ever-so-slightly downward, giving the impression not that she’s disappointed in you, necessarily, but that you’re going to have to do some work to gain her loyalty. I imagine it’s how Beyoncé looks at people. Which makes me want to impress Mabel all the more.
I never thought I would own a goldendoodle, and if I’m being honest, it’s because I considered the breed too trendy for me. The amber-toned dogs were all over Instagram and in the Christmas card photos we received from family and friends. When a dog joined our family, I wanted to be more original. I wanted to own the kind of dog that people would stop and ask, “Wow, what kind of dog is that?” and I would perfectly pronounce a series of French words in response.
But, as it turns out, things that are popular are popular for a reason. Usually that reason is because those things are great. And as soon as I met Mabel, I knew she was great and would be the perfect dog for our family. As she has been.
She runs and plays and cuddles and makes us laugh with her unique personality which can best be described as pathologically clingy, but in a way I appreciate. Like she knows her worth and knows the kind of attention she deserves, which, it turns out, is constant attention.
If, for instance, I take a minute to relax on our living room sofa and maybe watch a show or two, Mabel views this as an open invitation to get as close to me as physically possible. Her favorite move is to place both paws on my chest, level her nose with mine and stare expectantly into my eyes until I start petting her. Her second favorite move is to aggressively nuzzle my hand, even if it’s occupied with food or a phone or a book, until I start the petting. Her third favorite move is to smack me in the face repeatedly with her paw until I start petting her. If I rebuff her begging and tell her to get down, she finds her loudest squeaky toy and chews it to obstruct the sound of the show I’m watching until I either start petting her or hide the toy.
Mabel is, I believe, one of a kind.
But. Every time I take Mabel for a walk, I meet a Mabel doppelgänger. Sometimes multiple. And when I chat with the humans attached to the Mabel 2.0s, I learn that their dog shares many of the same personality traits as my dog. And they, too, think their dog is the perfect dog for their family and believe their dog is one of a kind. It’s so fun to make these connections. But also ... a little concerning.
It’s so wonderful that these dogs exist and enrich the lives of families in what is a hopefully mutually beneficial relationship. But have we stopped to consider that we might be pawns in the great goldendoodle plan? Have we all fallen for those doe eyes and floppy ears, and unknowingly brought small, fluffy sleeper agents into our homes while goldendoodles quietly outnumber humans? Are we blinded by the adorableness while these dogs are planning a coup? I don’t think we can rule it out.
This theory, of course, begs the question, what do the goldendoodles plan to do once they’ve reached critical mass? The only logical answer, I think, is that they plan to overthrow the government.
I’m not sure how or when. But I wouldn’t be surprised to see a doodle ticket emerge ahead of the upcoming November election. And I wouldn’t be surprised to see a bewildered Nate Silver on CNN’s special election coverage announcing a doodle landslide victory.
So what would a goldendoodle government mean for us? I think we can expect some behind-the-scenes maneuvering. Lots of lobbying for more treats. Bills drafted that require every home contain at least 147 tennis balls. A total ban on cats and/or squirrels. A nine-walks-a-day requirement.
Which, if I’m being honest, sounds pretty great all around. So I guess I don’t mind if Mabel and her friends turn out to be the world’s cutest sleeper agents who plan to overthrow the government. I might even welcome it.
Until then, I’ll enjoy the small, fluffy creature who waits for me outside the bathroom and gets so excited when it’s time for a walk that she runs in circles, making it impossible to attach a leash. And when she does eventually announce her plans to run for city council or become a dictator, she’ll have my full support.