I don't hate your dog and I'm not jealous.
Listen, I like your dog. Mostly because I know how much he/she means to you. I'll scoop up poo and hold the dog while you shampoo the mongrel's fur. When you do things to anthropomorphize old Scraps, like putting a sweater on him, feeding him (expensive) person food or taking him to a doggie psychologist when he's not a frisky as he used to be, I'll just bite my tongue and roll my eyes. I won't even freak out when the dog tries to sleep with us, provided that his nose stays out of my crotch-taint-anus (the old CTA).
Dog are OK in my book. Even though I didn't grow up with them, I see their appeal. They run around and make us laugh, they seem to love us unconditionally as long as there is food, and sometimes they protect us from very cowardly intruders. That being said, this dog (who happened to be around before you even knew me) is not my dog. Pet Jealousy And How To Deal With It
I promise not to criticize your approach to raising/humanizing this pup and, in return, you have to promise that you'll ask me to help out with him rather than assuming I'll do it. I promise to be only a little freaked out when I realize that this puppy is a surrogate for the child you really want, as long as you promise to acknowledge that we're not ready for that.
Having a doggie is a pretty big responsibility, and I'm happy to help with the responsibility but, ultimately, it's your dog. If we split, I'm not getting visitation rights. If I were to die, your dog would eat me. If you were to die, your dog would just lie down beside you and also die. It's not our dog unless we picked it out together, or you put a ring on this finger. After A Breakup, Who Gets The Dog?
In Episode 9 of our Alice & Timmy series, Alice wonders if Timmy will love her dog Sophia as much as she does. Good luck with that. You have to "Like Us" on Facebook to watch.