If you were to walk through our home, it wouldn't take long to figure out we're pet parents. Every single room has something fur-kid related. The 'comfort zone' crate in the office decked out with blankets, a pet pillow and plush toys. A huge basket filled with doggy toys. Throw blankets. Pet pillows. Chew bones, toys, Nylabones and Kongs on the floors. Doggy beds. The "Dog Nook" in the kitchen that houses 2 shelves loaded with supplies and a place to hang pup apparel. A leash holder with treat jar. And, the Bodacious Biscuit Love biscuit room.
Aside from the physical obviousness of being pup parents, there's also us. Our personalities, habits and day-to-day, hour-by-hour rituals and activities depict "Life With Fur-Kids." Most everything we do revolves around them. I work at home and 98% of the time, there's at least one fur-kid at my feet.
As I sit here writing this, Sophie is laying across my bare feet and Lobo is 2 feet away in the office doggy bed chewing on a Skinneeez. It has a squeaker inside. Chew. Squeak. Chew. Squeak.
Although I'm the only "hooman" home most of the day, I'm conversing. Yes, with the fur-kids. If anyone were to hear me through an opened window (who didn't know we had fur-kids), they'd probably tilt their head and wonder, "Who the hell is she talking to?" I have no shame in admitting I have conversations with all of the fur-kids. When they're sitting on the floor in the kitchen watching me, I'll tell them what I'm doing. If food prep is involved, they might get a nibble or two.
I very seldom get through any activity without being followed. This includes time spent in the bathroom. One of our fur-kids is special needs and is unable to jump up or down on the sofa or bed. Some days, he can't decide where he wants to be. Up down, up down, up down... On top of that, once or twice every hour, I check to see what they're doing if out of eyesight. Like with "hooman" kids, silence for any length of time, unless sleeping, is very seldom a good thing. If napping, I cover them up with their favorite blankets. If I hear barking, regardless of what I'm doing, I stop and investigate the commotion. Etc.
And, of course, included with all of the above is our overprotective nature. To us it's normal (for lack of a better word), but to non-pet-parent onlookers...well, not so much. We've learned to ignore the stares and shrug off the snarky comments from those who end their disapproving sentences with, "But...they're just dogs."
If you're reading this and get it, I raise my coffee cup to you. You probably know exactly what I'm talking about and can probably relate to some, if not all, of these 17 Signs You Are An Overprotective Dog Parent...compliments of BarkPost.
Would you like to add to that list? Leave a comment and let us know why people may deem you as an overprotective dog parent!