PSA: Dog Love is in the Heart of the Beholder

I get it. Your dog is the cutest thing since those funny looking Olsen twins. Aw, come on. When Full House premiered and they rolled out those buggers as one little baby "Michelle," didn't you think, "What the hell is that?" Eventually, we grew accustomed to their weird little faces and they became adorable to us. That's how I feel about your dog. He's cute in the same way as any creature who licks his own ass is cute---from a distance.

The reason I've got a bug up my ass about canines today, aside from not getting any for at least five days (sleep, that is. the other thing either now that you bring it up. thanks), is because some woman whom I don't know felt it necessary to send us a picture of her dog in a Christmas card. My husband knows her from work, so there are a couple ways I could look at this. On one hand, she could be some old bitty whose only companion is her beloved dog and who wants to share her love of said dog with the world because he makes her so happy. On the other hand, this could be hubby's other wife on the other side of town making sure 'daddy' has a picture of his cherished pet to carry with him at all times. Either way, I don't give a shit. I don't want a picture of that bitch's bitch in my house.

Let me clear something up for all you psycho dog owners out there: You love your dog. You want to dress your dog up in tiny designer outfits and carry it in your purse and take portraits of it and feed it caviar and oysters. You want to look up from the desk of your dead-end job and gaze into the blue/green/brown eyes of the loyal pup waiting patiently at home for your return. You. Not me.

There's a way to gauge whether or not you should send those $200 Petco portraits out to someone. Ask yourself a couple of questions. The first one should be, "Does this person know my dog?" If the answer is no, stop, calm your hyper ass down, remove the address label from the envelope, and step away from the postal worker. Your third grade teacher couldn't give less of a fuck about Trixie or how good she was when you took her to see Santa. The second question is, "Does this person love my dog?" Again, if the answer is no, save that precious portrait for someone who does. Don't waste your money; we're in a recession in case you didn't know. If you send a picture of your dog to someone who doesn't love him, it will end up in the trash. Or, and this is probably just me, it will get folded origami-style into the shape of a mouse and given to my cat. Sure, I may like your dog, it's not likely, but stranger things have happened. I may even think he's cute. But if I'm not falling all over myself trying to get to your house to play with the pwetty wittle puppy wuppy who's a cute dog? who's the cutest wittle puppy in da whole wide world? then I DON'T WANT A PICTURE OF YOUR FUCKING DOG.

As I was writing this, a commercial for an animal shelter came on. The dog was cute and the voice over was funny. Now that the commercial is over, I have no desire to ever see that dog again. See how that works?

While we're on the subject, the same thing goes for your kids. I don't know how many pictures of anonymous kids I have in my goddamn photo albums. A girl I worked with once gave me an 8x10 of her five-year-old. An 8x10, are you kidding me? What do you have a stash of gi-fucking-normous pictures stuffed in your bra to pass out like pro-life flyers? I had never even met the little heifer. Are people so proud of their little bundles of joy that they must insist on forcing their likenesses onto virtual strangers? Or are they so desperate for human companionship that they must create connections where clearly none exists?

Just to be clear any and all pictures of pets and children (let's throw in old people while we're at it) for whom I don't personally have love and/or affection will be trashed and burned, not necessarily in that order. You can waste your money, your Christmas card, your postage, and your time cutting those huge sheets into individual pictures if you want to. It won't last five minutes in my house.

Who the fuck is that? I don't know. Some dumbass I met on the bus stop gave me a picture of her twin rhesus monkeys. They were on a hit sitcom back in the '90's and then they grew up to vaguely resemble humans.

I apologize if this message is late and you've already purchased the Best Value package of pictures this year. Just think of it as advanced warning for next year. Besides, the dog will be a year older and a lot less cute. So will the kids.