REPEAT AFTER ME: PEOPLE COME BEFORE ANIMALS.

Byline: Michael Levine Local View

THE phenomenon of people in contemporary life anthropomorphizing pets and obsessing over their movement is overwhelmingly depressing. I sense it's part of a national morality crisis manifested by a growing number of people and their unsavory obsession with pets.

Actually, I don't sense this is a problem. I know it.

Recently, I was having drinks with an attractive, seemingly sane 35-year-old woman. ``So, do you have any kids?'' I asked casually.

``Yes, two fluffy ones,'' she said as she stirred her drink.

``No, really ...,'' I started. She sat up stiffly and repeated firmly, ``I have two fluffy ones.'' Not only did I not want to finish my drink with this woman, I was actually afraid I might be seen with her.

Any adult who, in some immature requisition to be loved unconditionally, must elevate their pet to the status of a human life is, in a word, pathetic.

Dismayed yet thoroughly convinced I had a unique story, I went to a good friend, a prominent plastic surgeon, to tell him about it. I was stunned to hear him say he could top my story. He told me that he had called a woman to ask her on a date. ``Michelle and Fluffy can't some to the phone right now,'' she cooed on her answering machine. Later, Michelle called to cancel their date because Fluffy ``wasn't feeling well.'' Whether Fluffy is a cat or a dog, I don't know, nor do I want to. I hope you don't.

It's a growing disease, and even though it's generally accepted and condoned, it's wrong and a sign of something deeply askew in our society.

In 1960, nearly a hundred percent responded correctly to this question: ``If your pet and a stranger were drowning at the same time, who would you save?'' The response was invariably, without hesitation: ``The human. What kind of stupid question is that?''

Today, a whopping one-third of those asked the same question (by interviewers, radio talk show hosts and others) say they would save the pet. Another third find the question ``too hard.'' A sad little ethical army of one-third say they would save the person. Poor fools.

Anyone who wouldn't immediately reply with the responsible answer is, to put it bluntly, morally retarded. And although these surveys should be shocking to the average American, they're probably not.

Consider the Jan. 26 fatal mauling of Dianne Whipple in San Francisco by a Presa Canario mastiff.

The violent death spurred a wave of fear in the public. But more horrifying is the fact that, in the aftermath of the attack, breeders were hit with a deluge of requests for the same breed. Breeders reported that demand for the breed nearly quadrupled in the weeks following the highly publicized attack.

More pitiful still is the fact that, in the natural wave of panic following Whipple's death, angry pet owners accused the public and the media of overreacting and making their pets ``look bad.'' Oh, dear.

This kind of attitude is pitiful. For a growing number of pet owners who are standing up for violent dogs in the wake of a tragic human death, animals have attained an equal, if not superior, status in American culture. Yes, society has officially flipped out.

We can now get our pets professional portraits, send them to lavish day care centers, buy them insurance, hire massage therapists and pet baby- sitters, leave money for them in wills, and even purchase designer duds for them.

We can do all these things and more for our pets, but it won't make them people. By elevating animals to human status, we end up dehumanizing people. We strip ourselves of our unique morality, our singular respect for life and our distinct humanity.

It's time to take it back. It's time for our pets to assume their appropriate place in American households - and that's not the master bedroom.

Younger eyes and historians are watching, their ears are listening and their impressionable minds are processing. If we tell children that animals are essentially equal to us, we should not be surprised when they act like animals - or when they leave us drowning in a lake so they can save Fluffy.