josebrwn
25th March 2004, 19:24
You have more dog beds, chew toys, collars, leashes, harnesses, and
dog crates than you have dogs.
You meet other people with dogs, and remember their dog's call name
after 30 seconds, but don't get the owner/handler's name until
you've met them 2 or 3 times.
You don't think twice about trading licks of an ice cream cone with
your dog.
Your parents give up on grandchildren and start to refer to your
dogs as "your kids" or your children." (Bonus: they start to call
them "our granddogs.")
90 percent of your Internet connection time goes to the dogs
(seeing what's new when you enter your breed into the browser,
reading up on multiple lists, checking out photos, sounds and FAQs,
etc.).
You have hundreds of pictures of your dogs on your desk at work, in
your wallet, etc., but none of your family or yourself.
No one wants to ride in your car because they know they'll get dog
hair on their clothes.
You reach into your pockets for change, and liver treats, dog
kibble, and pick-up bags fall all over. (Bonus: You've done this in
a classy establishment.)
You've had long meaningful discussions with your friends on the
best way to trim your dog's nails, but have never had a manicure or
pedicure in your lifetime.
Books and movies are ruined for you if the dog references are
incorrect.
The highlight of your day is spending time with your dog.
You watch simply awful movies because your breed is either featured
in a cameo scene or there's a 3-second camera shot during a crowd
scene.
All of your clothes have dog hair on them, even when they come back
from the laundromat or dry cleaners.
The only thing your friends, colleagues, and passing acquaintances
say to you when they see you is, "How are the dogs?" or "How many
dogs do you have now?"
Your photo Christmas cards feature your dogs (humans optional).
dog crates than you have dogs.
You meet other people with dogs, and remember their dog's call name
after 30 seconds, but don't get the owner/handler's name until
you've met them 2 or 3 times.
You don't think twice about trading licks of an ice cream cone with
your dog.
Your parents give up on grandchildren and start to refer to your
dogs as "your kids" or your children." (Bonus: they start to call
them "our granddogs.")
90 percent of your Internet connection time goes to the dogs
(seeing what's new when you enter your breed into the browser,
reading up on multiple lists, checking out photos, sounds and FAQs,
etc.).
You have hundreds of pictures of your dogs on your desk at work, in
your wallet, etc., but none of your family or yourself.
No one wants to ride in your car because they know they'll get dog
hair on their clothes.
You reach into your pockets for change, and liver treats, dog
kibble, and pick-up bags fall all over. (Bonus: You've done this in
a classy establishment.)
You've had long meaningful discussions with your friends on the
best way to trim your dog's nails, but have never had a manicure or
pedicure in your lifetime.
Books and movies are ruined for you if the dog references are
incorrect.
The highlight of your day is spending time with your dog.
You watch simply awful movies because your breed is either featured
in a cameo scene or there's a 3-second camera shot during a crowd
scene.
All of your clothes have dog hair on them, even when they come back
from the laundromat or dry cleaners.
The only thing your friends, colleagues, and passing acquaintances
say to you when they see you is, "How are the dogs?" or "How many
dogs do you have now?"
Your photo Christmas cards feature your dogs (humans optional).