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Woofing Crazy - Yes!
Yes, I go to extremes with my precious pookie-pie, honey-bun, tootie-poo, doll-head, honey-blossom little humans with fur, and what of it? Some call me 'sick', 'weird', 'different', but that's okay with me. I do have relationships with humans (but only long enough so that I can keep my dogs in the posh lifestyle that they've become accustomed to), I just prefer my human weims. I waaay prefer them. It's good to be able to spend time with whom you prefer.
Yes, I refer to Groovy as my son. His nickname is canine Jesus, since I worship the ground he trots on. My canine children make me proud. No, I haven't had to pay for college tuition, but I've spent about as much on his cancer treatment. Worth it. We're both getting a continual valuable education on that journey. Yeah, I've also spent thousands in vet expenses only to have my cherished dogchild die. Worth it. Then I had it to do over again and I did. Worth it again. I regretfully cannot be concerned with things that the author of the article mentioned...like homeless people or hungry children, as I am far too busy filling my head with monumental events like what color sweater would match Groovy's eyes the best, or how to decorate Jack's birthday cake, or why Dreamy slept further away from me last night, oh my god, is she mad at me? Did I hurt her feelings? Just in case, I better give her extra treats today.
I am balls to the wall, full tilt, hard core crazy in love, do warped things just to please my dogs kind of wacko. If humans were as nice to me as my human weims, then maybe I'd spoil them too, but they're not, so they don't get it. Ha. That may be sick, but hey, that's the truth, at least I know myself. I enjoy spending my emotions and money on the things I want, things that make me and my furry humans feel good. I live like this, everyday, I have friends like me, and I'm so happy all the time, constantly drunk on this feeling of being a dog mom - and all that implies. I treasure those moments that men have seen how I treat my dogs, and simply think that if they dated me, that I would transfer all that love and attention onto them, since apparently I must have 'so much love to give'. What a grave misconception. That alone gives me a big belly laugh. When people ask me why I'm not married, I must confess that it is because there's simply not enough room left on the bed. That's just common sense, right?
I write letters to people from my dog children, and people send my dog children cards and letters, and I read their cards to them. Other people do this, right?? My dog children have a larger wardrobe than me by far, but then I'm not really into designer clothing the way they are...I mean, when I'm shopping and see a cool pair of sunglasses and think, hey, those would look wicked on Groovy, that's normal, right?? Having a big circus tent in my living room that serves as their 'clubhouse' isn't different from anybody else is it? I mean, I've actually had people approach me in the park and tell me they think it's nasty that I'm sharing a popcycle with my dogs. Please! Are you serious?? Who's weird now??
Even with all of my creepy habits that put off those "non-animal people" as well as those "animal people who do not go overboard (or do not admit to going overboard)", I still manage to come into contact with other sickos like me. Believe me, if I made more money, I'd be a helluva lot sicker, it would make you puke just to listen to the things that I would do for my little heavenly furballs. I enjoy showing people all of my tattoos, I have one in honor of every dog I've owned - that usually freaks people out pretty good. I mean, wanting to put a dash of ashes into the tattoo ink so that a part of my darling departed sweeties is actually in my skin...that's what anyone in their right mind would do, right??
My lifestyle and behavior is considered by some to be foolishness, excessive, extreme, disgraceful, outrageous...some insane fad condemned by others, I'm a thick skulled pet doter whose mental state is sometimes called into question simply because I choose to lavish my version of love onto my doggie kids, who some insist on referring to as 'mere beasts'.
The only way I can answer the people like the one who wrote that USA Today article is, well, do whatever feeds your soul, period. Do what makes you happy. I'm deliriously ecstatic, and I owe it all to my dog children. Please don't waste your time telling me what else I 'should be' spending my money and energy on instead, because I'm not listening...I'm too busy wondering if I should've dressed the kids in sweaters before dropping them at doggie daycare, since it may turn chilly later. Gosh, did I put the filet mignon out to thaw - a certain little woof-tater is celebrating a special day and everything has to be just right!
Silly freaks like me are out there in the world, we work with all of the so-called 'normals', we earn a good living, we vote, and we're multiplying as fast as rabbits, so look out world, here we come, with our poochie poo sons and daughters beside us!
Cassandra...
a.k.a. way-out doting mother of a super-duper son named Groovy (yeah dude, you read it right, I said SON), a woof-tacular daughter named Dreamy (you betcha she's my DAUGHTER), and a weimar-riffic son named Jack (I always tell every Jack I meet that I have a SON named Jack).
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