I've been out of the loop for awhile - we had 2 weeks of fun with friends from out of town, and I have had a hard time putting together coherent thoughts worth blogging. So, I dusted off a draft that's been sitting around for a couple of months, polished the turd, and here it is for your reading pleasure.
Don't get me wrong - I love my dogs. Yes dogs - thanks to my husbands' previously undiagnosed mental illness, we have two. Took me 15 YEARS to talk him into the first one, 6 months later, we have a second. But, that's a blog for another day. My problem is with people who forget they are pets, not family. Again, don't get me wrong - grooming for my dogs costs more than my hair cuts, and they sleep on my bed. They enjoy treats, have sassy, color coordinated collars and leashes. But they are pets. My wonderful sister was here a few weeks ago with her dogs - a Greyhound and an Italian Greyhound. The full size greyhound was great. The little one, although not mean, does not know he is a dog. I'm not sure my sister remembers either. We've talked about it, and it's become a bit of a family joke. Now she's pregnant with her first child, and I am fascinated to see how this will develop and her dog has to take second place to the child. Really. This is going to be a change of Biblical proportions. It's actually quite funny. I'm the oldest sister and had kids first, so, obviously, I got to make all the parenting decisions & mistakes first. Now, I get to watch the circus from the stands instaed of being in the center ring. Not that I'm anywhere nearly done - my girls are teens so I'm about to catapult into that madness - but it's interesting to watch.
