I have a confession to make. Ready? It’s a doozy…
I’m not a dog person.
I know. Go ahead and unfollow me.
I made several people gasp when I said this last weekend at a family gathering.
When I say I’m not a dog person, this doesn’t mean I don’t like dogs. It just means I don’t want a dog of my own. I never have. Dogs need a lot of attention.
After the gasps subsided, I explained, “Dogs are very needy creatures. I already have three creatures in my house that need everything I can give them. I don’t want or need one more thing that demands my attention.”
That seemed to soothe the feathers of the more strident dog lovers in my family.
I say, whatever!!
I also say, why does it matter to them if I’m a dog person or not? Shouldn’t they actually be applauding me and the fact that I know myself well enough to not have a dog since I know I wouldn’t give it the attention it would want and need? Isn’t it better to leave the dogs to people who can take care of them beyond feeding and watering them than to have one in my home for the sake of appearances (and because Alyssa would be so, so happy) but then leave the poor thing emotionally neglected?
I am glad there are people who love animals and who care about them and want them in their lives. I’m thrilled about that because it means there are good homes for these animals.
I’m just not one of those people and I’m not apologizing for that. I didn’t apologize at our family gathering either. Yes, I felt judged but I figured dog people simply cannot imagine not loving animals. I get that.
But I’m still not apologizing for not wanting one of my own. When Alyssa is all grown up and has her own house and her own vacuum cleaner, she can have all the dogs she wants. I’ll just ask her nicely not to bring them to our house.
See, we can all get along.