Dogs are vile and disgusting creatures, not to mention expensive. I refuse to consider the tens of thousands of dollars I have spent on vet bills due to accidents, illnesses, and escalated arguments because I don’t need that kind of negativity in my life. My mother has accused me of being a helicopter parent. Frankly, I don’t even know how to respond to that. Like, should I be proud or insulted? My dogs have quite a bit of freedom to do their own thing within the suburban confines but I do check for eye boogers on the regular.

A while back, I was in my master bathroom doing things one does in ones master bathroom when I heard a God-awful yelp. I have never felt so helpless in my entire life. I mean, normally when someone yelps I can immediately leap into action and help them! But there I was living out my first-world nightmare.
By the time I was able to investigate, everyone was fine. I inspected every paw, every dewclaw, every ear, and every rear. I checked the entire house for blood. Nothing was amiss. I checked the backyard and found the same. Both dogs acted like that wail from the bowels of Hell had not occurred and I was obviously a deranged lunatic. I demanded to know how they could be so calm when my heart rate was at emergency status. Instead of answers, I received kisses…which are basically the same thing.

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