| Keely ( @ 2009-04-23 10:10:00 |
| Current mood: |
Carlsberg don't do dog sticks...

I've turned in to one of those people you meet who are absolutely obsessed with their pets. I could only love her more had I carried her wriggling, furry body in my womb & given birth to her myself. I say things like "Did you hear that?! She just yawned & sounded like she said 'merci'. I bet she's French, look at her eyes, French!".
Except, nobody else really understands why I'm so obsessed with my dog. Even my other family members think it's a bit unhealthy. Yeah, they love her, but they don't want to carry her around in a papoose & they don't hide upstairs for five minutes just so they can get a happy greeting from her again. I like the fact that she's ridiculously ugly & her face gets even more mangled when she's happy.
This morning I went downstairs & threw myself at her, & sometimes she looks at me like she really pities me for being a poor, affection-starved human with cabin fever. Judging eyes from a dog are never a good thing. I think it might be important to leave the house more.
Tomorrow I'm off to London, & will be able to shake off the mental impact of spending all my days in this tiny room, trying to train my brain to be a human thesaurus & failing. Instead, I generally just sit here waiting for the man with Down's Syndrome who lives across the road to get dropped off in his bus. I know that sounds horrible, but I'm fascinated by him, he's in his 40s & his name is Martin. He just looks so happy all the time!