I don’t really like animals.
I never have and I never will, but I still really, really try. I try all the time. Because it seems like everyone has a bloody dog. It’s not that I hate dogs, I don’t. I just don’t like them.
I don’t like them smelling my vagina.
I don’t like them licking my feet.
I don’t like the way they smell.
And mostly I don’t like that I don’t know what they are thinking.
I know you could argue that I don’t really know what anyone is thinking. And I don’t care about your argument.
We had a dog when I was a kid, but it died when I was 5 and then we never got another pet. Well, there was my pet chicken which we named “chicken”. He was awesome for about 3 weeks until a dog ate him. You would think that is where my dislike would come from. But that is not the case. I don’t really like cats either.
My husbands family loves animals. They will sit for hours and talk about all their pets over the years and all the funny things their dogs and cats done/did/do. They tell these stories like folklore and laugh until tears come out of their eyes. For a non animal lover you can imagine how I must look during these long evening of reminiscing about these four legged stink rats.
Before Whirlwind was born, we adopted a cat. She was a fine cat. Yes she freaked me out, but she was good to never really bother me. Yes, I let her sit in my lap. Yes, I fed her. Sometimes I even brushed her.
But, I wasn’t fond of her. So, I got rid of her.
I know I am a really bad human being.
Blah, Blah, Blah. But, truly, I ended up finding a really good home for her. If I was 16 and pregnant and found a good home for my baby you would be praising me. So, leave me alone.
So lately Whirlwind has been asking for a dog and I don’t like where this is heading. I catch her and Zed talking about it and I can see the twinkle in his farm boy eye. Add a baby voice here, “He want a doggy.”
Listen here, Farm Boy, we are never ever ever getting a dog. The only way we are ever getting a dog is if I become the next Roseanne Barr and have crazy fans who try to break into our home to steal my used razors and chicken wing bones and sell them on ebay. And chances of that happening are pretty good.
So fine we can get a dog. But, I am not petting that thing.
I originally wrote this for and it was published at BLUNTmoms.