It really is a dog's world
By Staff
Leada Gore, Editor
Shortly after we got our dog, Spike, I abandoned all pretense of obeying the pre-pet rules I had set for us. Before he came to our home, I had limits on where he could sleep, his access to furniture and what he would eat.
The rules didn't last 24 hours. I was totally suckered in by his furry face and figured it wouldn't hurt if he slept where he wanted, adopted one living room chair as his own and liked Cheerios in the morning.
It soon became obvious that Spike was running our household. I found myself being quiet in the morning so as not to wake Spike. I put a quilt over the arm of a chair so Spike would be comfortable when he lounged in the evenings. I even found myself making sure Spike had something special to eat at dinner time. (And yes, before you worry, I did check with his veterinarian before I started cooking for Spike. He loves pasta, which turns out to be OK for dogs.)
If this wasn't enough, I also decided Spike must be appropriately attired. Soon, he had a wardrobe befitting a king, along with a selection of collars, leashes and even a charm he wore on his collar. It's a little crown that has the word
"spoiled" written on it.
It seemed appropriate.
Therefore, it only seemed logical to purchase that pair of sunglasses made for dogs when I was out shopping one day. The package said they helped to prevent eye damage for animals. I didn't want Spike to have eye damage, so I purchased the Doggles (yes, that really is the name, a combination of dog and goggles.)
I even took to putting Spike's Doggles on before we took him out for a walk, though he was prone to shaking them off his head. He sure looked good, though, for the two minutes I could get him to wear them.
It was after one such walk that Greg decided enough was enough.
"You're obsessing over the dog," he said. "You're making him neurotic."
I disagreed. Sure, he had taken to wanting to be carried around the house as opposed to walking. And, yes, he would push you out of his favorite chair if you sat in it too long. And he would not eat his dog food at all, but did like to start his mornings with a nice oat cereal.
I guess it's easy to become fixated on an animal. A pet is a member of the family and, therefore, seems to deserve all the rights and privileges available to all other members of the household. Granted, he doesn't pay rent and walks on four legs instead of two, but it doesn't mean he's not important.
"I'm not fixated," I replied. "Now get up. You're in Spike's chair."