Yeah, I’m glad I didn’t go there.
When I hear something like what you just said, it makes me feel GOOD. I know that at least some dogs have good lives, and are loved.
My mom won’t come to visit because my house is dog-centric.
There’s no “good sofas”, just This End Up twin beds so they have room to stretch.
No floors you can “eat off of”.
You sit down, you *will* take home souvenir dog hairs.
She gripes because I’m always in t shirts, sneaks and jeans.
$100+ month that could go to ‘nicer clothes’ goes to good dog food.
The yard doesn’t look like a golf course.
There’s ruts where they run.
Can’t have a conversation because they all go off [like they’re supposed to] when the neighbor goes up the lane.
We don’t go out for long trips or vacations because the dogs need taken care of and I don’t trust *anybody* with them.
They’re my life, just like I’m theirs.
She thinks this is “horrible”.
I think it’s heaven.
But both Dobes have connived their way up here with me now and 180 pounds of hot bodies are slowly shoving me off onto the floor. ;D
[OTOH, if she knew about the Boas]....LOL