Dogs, dogs, dogs

I was watching Animal Planet a bit last week, and there was the cutest little puppy who was brought into the vet’s office. The thing is, though, that I don’t like dogs. I do not really understand people who do. They annoy me. They are great to visit, but having one live with me? Oh hell no. Been there, done that, never again. I suppose if I had a husband with a dog I might just deal with it, but left up to me, no.

Someone on a forum was talking about some dog that was being given to a shelter and blah blah blah wah wah, I just flat out didn’t care. The dog was ugly, not hers, and I just plum didn’t see the big deal. I admit I only like cute lapdogs that can fit in a purse, because they are, you know, cute.

On the other hand my dad can’t understand why I love cats so much. So I suppose all things are relative. Upon reflection I think obsessive pet owners are what has put me off the whole pet experience. That, and I’m not really in the mood to pet-proof my home environment.

Whee, pet rants.