Sunday, June 10, 2007

You Know You're a Dog Person When...

All dates must pass your dog's inspection.

You get birthday cards for each of your dogs from family, friends, and the vet. (Bonus if you keep them on the refrigerator for more than a month.)

Every gift you ever get has something to do with dogs.

All your non-dog friends know to dress down when visiting your house.

You call long distance and talk with your dog.

If you are cold, you put a sweater on your dog.

All of your furniture came to you second hand or via curbside discard, but your dog crates are top of the line, industry premium.

Your voice is recognized by your vet's receptionist.

Dog crates double as chairs and/or tables in your family room.

Everyone at the office is eager to know if the dogs are all right because you were late for the meeting.

First time visitors wonder aloud: "Do you smell something?" and you really don't.

It takes an entirely separate garbage can to handle the poop.

It's easier to get a hairdresser's appointment for yourself than it is to get one for your dog.

More than half your grocery money goes to dog food and treats.

No matter how large your bed is, it is not large enough for you and your dog(s).

The cost of boarding your furkids equals that of your entire vacation.

The dog's kibble is stored in 45 gallon garbage cans, and the water is kept in a bucket with it's own drip tray under it. (Score extra if you have had a water tap installed over the bucket to save time, or [for longhaired breeds] if you keep a towel lying permanently on the floor to soak up drips and squeegee around with your foot.)

The largest display of collectibles in the house is dog stuff -- plates, photos, cards, etc.

The sound of any liquid hitting the floor two rooms away at 3 a.m. Is enough to launch you out of bed; but otherwise you can sleep through a ringing telephone, the alarm clock, earthquake tremors, etc.

The total "poundage" of canines outweighs the total poundage of humans in the household.

Vaccination and licensing records for all your dogs are in perfect order, but your checkbook hasn't been balanced in months, and last year's tax records are nowhere to be found.

You believe it is your duty to talk to, pat, and even feed every dog in the neighborhood. You know their names.

You break down and buy another pillow so you can have one to sleep on.

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