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Social Skillz

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July 30, 2010 by Marj Hatzell

Fine, I’ll admit it. I don’t have the best social skills.  I talk to much. I dominate conversations. I forget to look people in the eye.  And when they talk to me?  I’m usually noticing everything else going on around me, staring at the ceiling, counting cracks in the floor.  It’s uncomfortable for me to look at people and when I do make eye contact I lock my stare on them so that I don’t get distracted. Which I’m sure gives people the Heebie-Jeebies.  Because nothing says Hebbie-Jeebies like a girl with steel-blue eyes staring through you like you ain’t standing there.

I’m pretty sure this is why I like dogs.  See, Dogs?  Don’t care if you don’t look at them.  They never cringe when they see you coming, they always accept you into their social groups. They could care less if you prattle on and on about mundane things like steaming your carpet weekly and padlocks on your gates and doors  (Yes, I steam at least weekly. No, I don’t know how those carpets are lasting.  Yes, we padlock the doors and gates.  One word:  BUGABOO).  Also?  Dogs love you no matter what. They don’t reject you. They are always happy to see you. THEY DON’T ROLL THEIR EYES AT YOU (I’m talking to you, Bug Boy).  And?  No arguments!  They do what they’re told! It’s glorious! See, this is why I’ve discovered something important. Brace yourselves, it’s heavy!  Ready?

I LIKE DOGS MORE THAN PEOPLE.

And I wonder where my kids get their stellar social skills. Hmmmm…

Anyways, I like dogs more than people. There! I said it!  And it turns out I can make a decent living from dogs.  I’ve also realized that not going to vet school after I was accepted was perhaps  the dumbest thing I could have done.  Or not.  I’m not one for regrets.  But if I knew everything would come full circle and I’d still be working with animals I might have tried a little harder to get that tuition money together.  Of course, I could be saying the same thing about any of my four majors (Dental hygiene, history, Special Ed, too).  The point is that it is funny I ended up working with animals anyways.  Go figure.  Which could teach you an important lesson in life, kids.  And that lesson is, don’t second guess yourself. Or maybe it’s another lesson:  If your parents can’t afford to send you to a prestigious, ivy-league veterinary school, go to a state teacher’s college and get a teaching degree instead because it’s cheaper and you’ll end up working with animals eventually anyways.  HOLLAH!

Last night I was curled up with five dogs.  It was quite a sight (and it’s good that I have a sectional, yo).  Don’t worry, one more comes today!  That makes six!  But two go home tomorrow. So that’s four dogs, for those of you not good at math.  Where was I? Oh yes, five dogs.  Last night.  Thankfully, they are mostly small. I had my parents’ dog, Cujo, curled under one arm, Ollie the Schnoodle under the other.  On the ottoman at my feet was Bristol, my baby.  Cocoa, this crazy Puggle I’m watching, was on the other side of Ollie. And at my feet?  Sandy, the Golden, our all-time favorite visitor.  The husband was sitting at the other end of the sectional pouting because no one would curl up with him. They’d come when called but kept sneaking over to curl up with me.  So he’s all, “Why won’t they curl up with me?” To which I replied, “He heard you call him fat and she knows you think she’s dumb. They can hear you, you know.”  And he’s all *EYEROLL* and I’m all *SMIRK* because I know I’m right.

See, the cool thing about dogs? I can curl up and cuddle and hug five dogs and nobody calls me a HO. If I curled up with two other female humans and three other male humans I’d either be at a SWINGERS EVENT or an ORGY.  And I’d be a HO.  But with dogs?  I’m just an “animal caretaker” but I still get cuddles and feel warm and snuggly and happy and stuff.

(Stop making those disgusting bestiality jokes right now, thanyouverymuch!  Gosh, can’t wait to see the Google searches on this post!)

Also?  It’s good they aren’t humans. Because the male dogs?  They are constantly humping. And I’m not talking about shunting trains (which is another definition of humping).  I mean they constantly, you know, get down to biznizz with the female dogs. And the females don’t exactly appreciate it. They have their own way of saying, “Not tonight, dear, I have a headache.”  And that way is grrrrrr…GRRRRRRRR!!!!  ARF!  And a quick nip and it’s over.  Could you imagine that happening in real life?  “Hey!  Hey baby!  I like you!  Your crotch smells good!  Let’s get it OOOOONNNNN!!!!!”  And then the male mounts the female and she turns around and is all, “OH NO, YOU DI’INT!”  And that occurs about every six minutes through the day.  So if it happened that way for humans it sure would be awfully interesting around these here parts. Uh huh.

So. Recap.  Dogs > people. For those of you who flunked math that means I like Dogs better because they air hump all day.

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