You Know You Are a Dog Person When....

[hillsbororiver]

You have a kiddie wading pool in the yard, but no small children.

Lintwheels are on your shopping list every week.

You have baby gates permanently installed at strategic places
around the house, but no babies.

The trash basket is more or less permanently installed in the
kitchen sink, to keep the dog out of it while you're at work.

You refer to yourselves as Mommy and Daddy.

Your dog sleeps with you.

Poop has become a source of conversation for you and your
significant other.

You can't see out the passenger side of the windshield because there
are nose-prints all over the inside.

You have 32 different names for your dog. Most make no sense, but
she understands.

  You like people who like your dog. You despise people who don't.

You carry dog biscuits in your purse or pocket at all times.

You talk about your dog the way other people talk about their kid.

You sign and send birthday/anniversary/Christmas cards from your
dog.

You put an extra blanket on the bed so your dog can be
comfortable.

You'd rather stay home on Saturday night and cuddle your dog than
go to the movies with your sweetie.

You go to the pet supply store every Saturday because it's one of
the very few places that lets you bring your dog inside, and your
dog loves to go with you.

  You get an extra-long hose on your shower-massage just so you can
use it to wash your dog in the tub, without making the dog sit
hip-deep in water.

You and the dog come down with something like flu on the same day.
Your dog sees the vet while you settle for an over-the-counter
remedy from the drugstore.

Your dog is getting old and arthritic, so you go buy lumber and build
her a small staircase so she can climb onto the bed by herself.

Your license plate or license plate frame mentions your dog.

You don't think it's the least bit strange to stand in the back yard
chirping "Meg, pee!" over and over again, while Meg tends to play
and forget what she's out there for (but what your neighbors think
of your behavior is yet another story).

  You have your dog's picture on your office desk (but no one else's).

You lecture people on responsible dog ownership every chance you
get.

You skip breakfast so you can walk your dog in the morning before
work.

You are the only idiot walking in the pouring rain because your dog
needs her walk.

You don't go to happy hours with co-workers any more because you
need to go home and see your dog.

  Your weekend activities are planned around taking your dog for a
hike (both days).

You keep an extra water dish in your second-floor bedroom, in case
your dog gets thirsty at night (after all, her other dish is way down
on the first floor...).

Your freezer contains more dog bones than anything else.

You never completely finish a piece of steak or chicken (so your dog
gets a taste, too).

You shovel a zigzag path in the back yard snow so your dog can
reach all her favorite spots.

You avoid vacuuming the house as long as possible because your dog
is afraid of the vacuum cleaner.

You carry pictures of your dog in your wallet instead of pictures of
your parents, siblings, significant other, or anyone else remotely
human.

Your dog is the star of your World Wide Web site!

Your parents refer to your pet as their granddog.

You hang around the dog section of your local bookstore.

Your jewelry box contains no jewels... just those fasteners from vari-kennels.

Every time you read the name Bob, you think the guy's first name
is Best of Breed.

Your hungry hubby comes home from work, lifts the cover of the
pan on the stove and says, "Is this people food or dog food?"

  At your dinner parties, you always double check the butter before
putting it on the table.

You put important papers in your latest issue of your breed
magazine you know you will find them there.

You have dog hair stuck on tape on wrapped gifts.

You have dog toys and treats in your briefcase.

You have several albums filled with the 8 by 10 pictures of your
dogs but you can't locate any pictures of your kids to send to
grandma.

[rrammfcitktturjsp]

Hi hillsbororiver,

  Yeah I can relate with all these statements.  It was pretty bad that I could not find a pic of myself without our dog.

  Sincerely,

  Anne C. McGuire