Setting the timer to ten minutes this morning, I just have too much to do today, plus we have Dude the dog here so morning pages will have to be brief today.
Dude has decided I am his master, which is very sweet. He scuffles after me, always makes sure he knows where he’s got me, and yesterday when I popped out for a bit, B said Dude had got a bit anxious. Bless his big, old, clumsy heart. I’m not sure B is too keen, and I can totally understand why. Never mind that Dude is huge, he also sheds a tonne of fur per hour (I don’t know how he has any left), he smells, there’s drool everywhere and he farts a LOT. All in all, he isn’t the most pleasant house guest.
But that’s not it.
B’s not keen because I have turned into Crazy Dog Lady. I speak in a silly voice (that, to be fair, even irritates Dude), I get restless when out as I don’t want Dude to feel alone (he probably just enjoys the peace and quiet), I reek of dog from scratching and cuddling him (his scent is so strong it stays on your hands even after you have washed them) and worst of all: I put Dude posts on Facebook. As Dude.
Yeah, bad, isn’t it?
I freaking HATE people like that! It makes me groan when I see those ridiculous Facebook updates with Crazy Pet People speaking on behalf of their pets. Like I did now. All these cats and dogs who are probably mortified to be linked to their embarrassing humans on Facebook, praying to higher pet powers that none of their friends will saunter past a computer and spot them. Imagine, young felines and pups bullying each other on Ask.fm as a result, and then a teenage pet suicide epidemic. You never know.
If you ever hear of an Italian Mastiff in west London who suddenly found life too much to bear, following other Mastiffs laughing at him because he associated with Crazy Dog Lady, then you know who’s to blame.
I didn’t tag him though and we don’t have mutual friends, so Dude’s embarrassing friend Crazy Dog Lady is in all likelihood a dark secret he can keep safe.