Totally Useless but Highly Entertaining
You know you just might be a dog lover if:
…dog kisses elicit an “Awwwwwww….” as opposed to an “Ughhhh.”
…you treat your dog as though he is your fourth son…or first grandson.
…you spend more time getting your dog ready for vacation, than you spend on yourself.
…you talk more to your dog than you do to those around you.
…you are willing to share your perfectly-barbecued ribeye steak with him.
…you worry about life after your dog goes to the big kennel in the sky.
…you share your blankets on those cold winter night.
…you agonize whether to take your dog along with you in the car for what might prove a long day, or leave him at home-by himself.
…folks look at you as though you were nuts because of how much you pamper your dog.
…you practice your Spanish on him and don’t mind that he does not respond accordingly.
…you routinely break the rule about feeding him tidbits from the table. You justify it because, well, chicken IS pretty healthy for him. (Additionally, you promise to slightly reduce his dinner that night…and then forget.)
…your dog gets the last of the ice cubes to rub over his hot fur when the temperature gets into the nineties.
…the cats are always second and third on the “Oh, Boy!” list, as far as meals are concerned.
…you dress to the hilt in all of your rain gear to take him out for a doody-walk, knowing your dog is going to refuse to step outside the door if there is so much as a mizzle in the air. (It is disconcerting to see how much enjoyment he derives at watching me dress.)
…you ache to take him to the Dog-Walk in Eureka, but you know his Alpha-Male personality makes it impossible. Considering he loves every single human who comes into his world, I guess it’s “normal” that he does not care much for his own kind.
…people wrinkle their noses at the questionable scent in the air as they enter your home, the odor you stopped being aware of years ago.
|A dog and his dish|
…you stopped fixating about dog hair on your pants…furniture…blankets…car seats…jackets…in your food…did I miss anything?
…your heartstrings tug when you see him stretched out, full-length, in the sun on the deck, snoring gently.
…you allow your dog anywhere in your vicinity on those hot summer nights.
…you worry about the heat to the extent that you continuously apply a sopping wet, cool cloth to his exterior every hour or so, to make sure he does not blow a gasket. Bulldogs are especially susceptible to heat.
…you accept the fact that your excursion in the car today with your dog, means that you will be spending a lot of quality time in said vehicle, as Annie runs the errands.
…it offends you to see a dog mistreated.
…you refuse to acknowledge the malodorous fragrance permeating the atmosphere, the one emanating forth from your gassy dog…
…you still want to buy him those big chewy rawhide bones, the ones the threaten to choke him, just because you know he would still get a great deal of enjoyment out of the experience…
…you can acknowledge that your dog is totally useless as a farm-dog, but that he is highly entertaining.
…the sound of your dog barfing in the middle of the night, is not worse than anything else on the planet.
…you can watch Emma the Elephant roll playfully over your newly-planted “hot crayon” zinnias, without so much as cringing. Besides, what would I possibly do? Emma thinks she is a chihuahua who is unfortunately-through no fault of her own-trapped in the body of a great dane…
…you are willing to make as many phone calls as necessary, to find a motel that will accept pets. (And then you are willing to pay the price.)
…you can’t go to a certain restaurant for lunch, because you could not park the truck where you could see it as you ate.
…you know all the places to scratch him that make him groan with enjoyment.
…you avoid specific venues on the Fourth of July because your dog wigs out when fireworks go off.
…you religiously check out Emily’s It’s-a-Dog’s World Posts, with special mention going to Maggie…
…you cringe at the sight of a dog running loose in hazardous conditions. You just can’t help them all.
…you want to grab the handiest brick and heave it [carefully] through the front windshield of a car with a dog inside-in the heat of the day.
…you patronize certain drive-through businesses because the employees reward your dog with a dog treat.
…you develop an obsession for making sure your dog does not pick up any ticks. Nasty bits of business, ticks. “None socially redeeming qualities,” as Mike Krakow would say.
…you try every one of your hats on him, to see which has the cutest effect. Or a Buster Posey shirt.
…you have to stop and talk to every dog you meet.
…the dog you have not seen since December, six moths ago, fawns and writhes on the ground in delight to see you again.
…you try to duplicate his facial expressions right back at him.
…you occasionally confuse him by urging him too break the rules and jump up on the couch with you, especially if Buster Posey is at the plate and you need everything going for you.
…you would do anything on earth to make your dog more comfortable, when that is impossible.
…you can relate the names of every dog you have ever owned, in chronological order. The older you get, the more impressive this becomes.
…you recognize that dogs derive more pleasure from your happiness, than they do from their own.
…you do not want to stop listing the things that you love about your dog.