I don't like your dog.

Brace yourself…..I. Do. Not. Like. Animals. I surely do not. Who cares? I don’t HATE them or curse their existence. I just don’t like them. I don’t want to own them. I don’t want to touch them. A few people have discovered this about me this past week and went into total shock. It was like I had told them I don’t shower or wear deodorant! I could definitely see I took a stumble down on the “good person” staircase in their eyes. In fact one lady actually said “Wow. You seemed so nice.” Ouch. What is the deal? Would you rather I own an animal and not take good care of it? I think I’m being a very caring, responsible person by NOT owning a pet. I watch Animal Cops all the time, and I do feel bad for those poor little guys. It’s HORRIBLE what some people do to them. (See! I have a soul!) And I think to myself, those people should never have got that dog, or cat, or whatever in the first place. Lo and Behold! I think I’d be a more horrible person if I got a dog and ignored it. I live at home and my parents DO have a dog. His name is Jake. I do not touch him or play with him. This is okay because the other people in my house do. I respect Jake, as a dog, and will occasionally address him if he is bugging me by licking the sliding glass door or something….but there are no “Hi Jakey Boy! That’s a good boy! Hi! Okay, snookums! Okay!” no……none of that. Our conversations go more like “Stop looking at me! Stop licking the glass, Jake! You retard!” or when I go outside, you can usually hear me saying “Do not come near me…don’t touch me, Jake!” So you’re probably wondering- WHY? Was I attacked by an animal? No. I think the thing is, growing up, I practically lived on a farm. At some point, we had chickens, pigs, peacocks, fish, dogs, cats, hamsters…shucks-I even had sea monkeys! In fact, I’m a little bit famous. Every single cat in Chino (and by now, it’s probably spread to surrounding Ontario, Upland, Chino Hills, and Pomona) is a direct descendant of my old cat, Pepper. NO JOKE. That cat had more babies then Octomom could ever dream of. The Rhoads kids could be seen standing in front of Target on any given Saturday trying to give away kittens for free. So I think as I grew, I felt I had done my time with animals. I’d had enough. Also, their fur is so dirty. Who goes up to a bum on the side of the freeway off ramp, rubs their head with their bare hand, calls it cute and wants to kiss it?!?! Because that’s what it’s like for me. I shudder. But I am a nice person. If I encounter someone who is unaware of this quirk of mine and they shove their little “Roxie” or “Mr. Snuggles” in my face, I will politely smile, assure them he/she is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen (Yeah, right) and I will pet it. Then if you watch closely, I will inconspicuously hold my hand away from my body and not touch one other thing until I excuse myself to the restroom where I will scrub my hands clean. I even carry hand sanitizer in my purse for such occasions.

So bottom line, get over it. It’s not a big deal that I don’t like animals. I’m still going to heaven…....maybe. ; )