I have two toy poodles: Sam and Pepper. No, I didn’t rescue them. I know that’s admirable  and gets you a bumper sticker that says “who rescued who?” but I like purebreds and lack of dander and no emotional baggage from past owners. I post frequent photos of them on social media because I think they’re cute and they make me laugh. I spend a healthy amount of money keeping them healthy, walked, well fed and buying them toys that are mildly ironic… only to have them prefer to play with pens or batteries or other items that could kill them.

Samuel Seaborn Doak (L) and Peppermint Patty Untereker Doak (R)

Samuel Seaborn Doak (L) and Peppermint Patty Untereker Doak (R)

The thing is, people like to assume that because I love my dogs, I love all dogs. This is not the case; I probably don’t love your dogs. I don’t like big dogs or dogs that slobber or ugly dogs. I definitely don’t like dogs I haven’t met and you describing your dog’s antics is less amusing than you think it is. In fact, human impressions of dog faces make me uncomfortable in an “I pity you but don’t want to bond with you so I’m trying to hide my emotions” kind of way.

Poodle sculpture I bought that does not help my "not a dog person" rep

Poodle sculpture I bought that does not help my “not a dog person” rep

Today I was trapped in a 25 minute conversation with my dog walker learning about the differences between her two dogs and listening to her compare her dogs (who I haven’t met/will never meet) to my dogs (who I pay her to take care of) and couldn’t for the life of me extricate myself early. I found myself, about 10 minutes in, wondering why this doesn’t happen to Jeff. How does he get out of these conversations? How does he avoid learning about Toby the Goldendoodle’s asthma medication ($300+ for three months and insurance doesn’t cover it)? Until I crack the code, my plan is to park down the street and hide in my car until I see she’s gone. That’s the grown up and mature thing to do, right?