Despite living with my Marty, I got a dog because I wanted someone to talk to. Joking. Sort of. But not really.
By having a dog, I have a permanent sounding board who at least pretends to listen to me while I blab away. Anyone who knows me well knows I can talk and talk and talk (just ask my parents), but Marty doesn’t hold the same love of conversation that I do. So I got Lucy. 🙂
Seriously, I got Lucy (and now foster dogs) for a lot more reasons than that, but I do find myself talking the dogs pretty much all day. Which officially makes me a crazy dog lady.
I’m not 100% nuts; I’m fully aware they have less than zero idea of what I’m saying but it makes me feel less lonely when Marty’s not home.
That being said, the dogs are certainly traitors. They’ll pretend to be paying attention to me but the minute Marty comes downstairs, this happens:
Oh well. At least they like Marty and as long as they at least pretend to still like me, I’ll survive.