THE FAMILY PET
ANTHROPOMORPHISM: THE TENDENCY TO ASSIGN HUMAN TRAITS
TO INANIMATE OR NON-HUMAN SUBJECTS.
Story
and Photography by
Lois Grace
There is a commercial
out now, for Toyota, that says (in part)
when does a car stop being a car and
become part of the family??? I guess
this is supposed to prompt people to
start thinking about their vehicles
as more than machines, and treat them
more like a treasured family pet. And,
Toyota thinks this is a NEW idea?
From this commercial,
it would seem as though the world is
just now discovering what we VW owners
have known all along. Our cars aren’t
just machines, they are more than just
a hobby, and they have personalities.
WOW. What a concept. Don't you wish
you'd though of that?? Wait. You did.
Imagine what Henry
Ford might say about such nonsense.
The father of the automobile (even though
the auto was around long before Henry
did his thing with the Model T, affordable
autos were not) would most likely snort
and scoff at such talk. From all accounts,
the Model T (and surely the Model A
after it) was the quintessential workhorse
of its time, it would start on the coldest
of days, it would run on just about
anything, and you could drive it nearly
anywhere. My own grandfather had a Model
T that ran on kerosene when gas wasn't
available! Don't you wish you could
THAT nowadays?? Anyway, it wasn't until
the next little workhorse came along
that people began thinking of their
cars as a member of the family. With
the arrival of the Volkswagen, people
thought of their car as a pet. Babies
were born in them, romances began and
blossomed in them, people drove them
places they'd never dream of taking
their Ford. I like to think that it
was because they were so fond of the
VW they didn't ever want to be without
it. With the Volkswagen, it was easy
to make this leap over the bounds of
mere machine and into the realm of human
hood.
The Beetle's looks
alone made it easy to love. The round
headlights, perched in front on a long
swoop fender, made the car look like,
well, a Bug. With all its buggy eyes
and that adorable face, the car looked
like some sort of benevolent insect.
One that wouldn't eat your flowers or
deliver a nasty sting. It was cute,
cuddly and best of all, it could take
you places! The family pet idea was
beginning to grow. Coming at you or
going away, the Bug was undeniably adorable.
Dr Porsche could not have designed a
more lovable vehicle if he'd tried.
The fact that he was trying to design
a People's Car and not an Adorable Vehicle
makes the whole thing even more amazing.
Little did he know that a cult was beginning,
one that would outlast the very production
of the car itself. He had begun the
Car as Pet craze and he didn't even
know it.
Perhaps even more incredible
than the cute looks of the Beetle is
the personality. Yes, you heard me.
We all know VWs have personalities,
and just like people and other pets,
no two are exactly alike. Most Volkswagens
have names, I've found, and once you
assign a name to your VW its personhood
is guaranteed. Even people who treat
their everyday cars like mere autos
will admit that they treat their VWs
differently. Each VW has its own distinct
traits, but like a real, live pet, they
all have one thing in common. They are
eager to please. Where does this come
from?? Fine German engineering, the
skeptics will say. It was designed and
built to be reliable, they will claim.
And, in part, they'll be right. But,
if they stick to that party line it'll
become painfully obvious to everyone
that they've never actually lived with
a VW. Those who do find very soon that
they are not always in control of a
Beetle's actions. To us, this makes
Herbie the Love Bug's antics even more
believable! The Beetle is born with
its own agenda, and we as owners are
merely along for the ride, as it were.
I have four VWs, three
of which are vintage. They are all different,
and communicate with me in different
ways. When I bought my 1990 Golf GTi,
Gus, I thought there was nothing about
this car that would ever make me feel
like treating it as a pet. But, in the
years that I have driven him, he’s
convinced me that he is indeed pet-worthy.
He's ornery and cantankerous at times,
but every bit a VW with the personality
to match. The other three are pre-1969
cars, which mean there isn’t an
ornery bolt in their bodies. They live
to please me and in the rare event of
a breakdown they seem as distressed
as I am about it. Once fixed, they are
eager for the next 100,000 miles. Gus
could care less about that; he knows
I love him anyway and doesn't grovel
at all. The old guys are like big lovable
lap dogs: they want nothing more than
to please me just by BEING. And, that
they do, extremely well.
The thing that leads
me to these conclusions so easily is
that I have never yet seen another car
do this to the degree that the Volkswagen
does. Sure, I was close to a 1978 Saab
once (for 18 years!) and when I sold
it I cried ridiculously. I was sorry
to see it go, simply because I liked
it and have a tendency to keep things
I like. But, it was his time to find
a new home and mine to find a GTi. Of
all the cars who have shared our family
none have spoken to me like the VW.
Vernon's wiring is old and the gremlins
who control it talk to me; Oscar's just
old all over and even though restored
he is full of odd noises and creaks
(convertibles tend to do that); Bogie
is my former daily-driven 69 Bug and
while he is aging gracefully he too
is acquiring the little oddities of
car old age. They all speak to me, and
when they do, I listen. Far from being
just machines, my vehicles are a part
of my family. I can’t imagine
a Toyota or Jaguar or Chevy owner feeling
this way about their car. Maybe they
do. I can even accept that they might,
but it's certainly not the feelings
we have for our VWs, right?? After all,
who could look into the headlights of
a Camry and feel those deepest feelings
one saves for those one loves the best??
Not me.
