Dude, I think I’m unhealthily obsessed with my dog. Not in a creepy, disgusting bestiality way or anything like that- God, no, just not my thing- but I’m getting to the point that I might be verging on treating my dog like she is a human.
In all fairness, I come by this naturally. When I was a kid, I had outdoor dogs. We got them when I was 4 or so, and they’d both passed away (separately, for the record) while I was in high school (late middle school?). When they died, the era of treating your pet as a pet was over, and my parents joined the ranks that my aunts had assembled before- the ranks of treating your dog as an extension of your children. The best way I can put this in perspective is to explain the diet of my aunt 2’s dogs. They eat a combination of wet and dry food, and the wet food is either Blue (which is organic) or the Beneful feasts (which are real food- like real peas, real noodles, etc) that come in the small Tupperware containers. They also have an organic chow type stuff that I see at Petsmart for hiking dogs or active dogs or something- I think the concept is it’s a log of food you can carry and chop off as needed. So each day, the dogs eat better than I’d venture 95% of the American population. So you see the background I’m coming from. (And for the record, my mom replaced me with a dog when I went to college. She’ll never admit that, but she bought a yellow lab who is named Mia, and Mia is allergic to meat protein and grass. Yeah, I’m not making that up. This is what happens when a) you try to replace a person with a dog and b) you buy a purebred (and c) you finally buy a puppy after your daughter leaves and she can’t watch it grow up through the precious puppy stage.)
So I talk to Gabby like she’s a person. Sometimes this happens on walks, so I’m sure there are people in my apt complx who think I’m nuts. (I’m not as nuts as Henry’s owner though- that’s a story for another day.) I show pictures of her to my oh-so-patient coworkers who are also dog lovers. I also refer to her as the puppy love of my life and my little girl. The latter concerns Evan, should we ever have a daughter. She still is not allowed to sleep in our bed, but I do snuggle with her on the couch. She isn’t the biggest snuggle fan of all time (ie she rarely crawls into your lap) but Gabby is EXCELLENT at scooting over until her butt is firmly against you on the couch, and falling asleep in that position. And when she does that? I avoid getting up or moving because I don’t want to wake her (the dog who sleeps at least 14 hours a day, if not 18.)
But I sort of feel like she deserves all this. I mean, she’s my little bestie. She’s relatively low maintenance since we put her on the all-protein Bil-Jac food (as a childless person, you haven’t really felt fear until your dog is shitting blood on the regular and stops moving/eating/drinking all within 24 hours just 3 weeks after you bring her home- I think I got a very minuscule taste of what parents with hospitalized children feel like). She isn’t all barky bark bark all the time. She is always thrilled to see me. And lately, what makes me happiest is that she is happy to stay home as my study buddy no matter what social activity presents itself. In no way is that a slight to my absolutely amazing husband, but I don’t want to deprive him of a social life just because I can’t go out much anymore, and it’s really nice to have someone else in the house with me.
Really, could you resist this? Of course not. She’s my favorite little bestie in the world. I heart my Gabbster.