Buddy

Dog Person Test

You have a kiddie wading pool in the yard, but no small children.

Lint rollers are on your shopping list every week.

You have baby gates permanently installed at strategic places around the house, but no babies.

The trash basket is more or less permanently installed in the kitchen sink to keep the dog out of it while you're at work.

Your dog sleeps with you.

Poop has become a source of conversation for you and your significant other.

You refer to yourselves as Mommy and Daddy.

You can't see out the passenger side of the windshield because there are nose-prints all over the inside.

You have 32 different names for your dog. Most make no sense, but she knows who you mean.

Your dog eats cat poop, but you still let her kiss you on the lips (but not immediately afterward, of course).

You like people who like your dog. You despise people who don't.

You carry dog biscuits in your purse or pocket at all times.

You talk about your dog the way other people talk about their kids.

You sign and send birthday/anniversary/Christmas cards from your dog.

You put an extra blanket on the bed so your dog can be comfortable.

You'd rather stay home on Saturday night and cuddle with your dog than go to the movies with your sweetie.

You go to the pet supply store every Saturday because it's one of the few places that lets you bring your dog inside, and your dog loves to go with you.

You open your purse, and that big bunch of baggies you use for pickups pops out.

You get an extra-long hose on your shower-massager just so you can use it to wash your dog in the tub without making her sit hip-deep in water.

If you and your dog came down with something like the flu on the same day, you'd rush her to the vet while you settled for an over-the-counter remedy.

Your dog is getting old and arthritic, so you build her a small staircase for climbing up onto the bed.

Your license plate or license plate frame mentions your dog.

You don't think it's the least bit strange to stand in the back yard chirping "Meg, pee!" over and over again, while Meg tends to play and forget what she's out there for. (What your neighbors think of your behavior is yet another story).

You match your furniture/carpet/clothes to your dog.

You have your dog's picture on your office desk (but no one else's).

You lecture people on responsible dog ownership every chance you get.

You skip breakfast so you can walk your dog in the morning before work.

You are the only idiot walking in the pouring rain because your dog needs her walk.

You don't go to happy hours with coworkers any more because you need to go home and see your dog.

Your Best Man's dog is Best Dog at your wedding.

Your weekend activities are planned around taking your dog for a hike (both days).

You keep an extra water dish in your second-floor bedroom in case your dog gets thirsty at night (after all, her other dish is way down on the first floor).

Your freezer contains more dog bones than anything else.

You never completely finish a piece of steak or chicken (because your dog needs a taste, too).

You shovel a zigzag path in the snow so your dog can reach all her favorite spots.

You avoid vacuuming the house as long as possible because your dog is afraid of the vacuum cleaner.

You keep eating even after finding a dog hair in your pasta.

You make popcorn just to play catch with your dog.

You carry pictures of your dog in your wallet instead of pictures of your parents, siblings, significant other, or anyone else remotely human.

Your dog is the star of your web site.

Your parents refer to your pet as their grand-dog

You hang around the dog section of your local bookstore.

Your jewelry box contains no jewels... just Vari-Kennel fasteners.

Every time you read the name "Bob," you think the guy's first name is Best of Breed.

Your house isn't carpeted - the fuzzy furballs under your feet are soft enough.

Your hungry hubby comes home from work, lifts the cover of the pan on the stove, and says, "Is this people food or dog food?"

Your hungry hubby once ate the dog food and asked for seconds.

You don't give a second thought to using the brush you just used on your dog on your own hair.

At your dinner parties, you always double-check the butter before putting it on the table.

You put important papers in the latest issue of your breed magazine because you know you will find them there.

All of your personally-wrapped gifts have dog hair stuck to the tape.

You have dog toys and treats in your briefcase.

You have several albums filled with 8 X 10 photos of your dogs but you can't locate any pictures of your kids to send to grandma.

You shop at car dealerships with a ruler to see if your dog crate will fit. Before the actual purchase, you make the dealer cringe by insisting that you load both crates and dog into the shiny new vehicle for a test drive.

You can't get the groceries in the car because it's A) already full of dog food, or B) you have that big old crate in there.

You visit relatives only if there is a dog show nearby.

You remove all the seats from the van except the two in the front so you have room for crates.

The passenger seat is full of dog stuff.

You cringe at the price of food in the grocery store but think nothing of the cost of dog food or treats.

You have six squeaky hedgehogs... but only one with a squeaky that works.

You put popcorn in the clean dog dish for movie night.

Little bits of liver are stuck to your credit card.

You pick up your latest roll of film and there isn't a single picture of a two-legged person on it.

People at work have stopped offering you their lint brushes; they realize you're a hopeless case.