Let’s get one thing straight. My dog is my baby, and the one-uppers of the world will never stop me from referring to him as such. You know the type, you mention you’re tired because you only got 5 hours of sleep, and they MUST tell you (and everyone else around) that they only got 3.
You have a lot of work to do this week? Well they’re moving, cleaning, exercising, shopping, AND working! You love your dog and consider him your baby? THAT’S NOTHING! YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT IT’S LIKE TO BE A PARENT! YOU DIDN’T CARRY HIM FOR NINE MONTHS! HOW DARE YOU? THAT’S INSULTING TO PARENTS EVERYWHERE!
Give me a break.
The name I call my dog does NOT take away from your love towards your children. It does NOT compare giving birth to adopting an animal. It does NOT make the statement that having a dog is as difficult or as tasking as raising a child, so stop coming at pet parents (yes, PARENTS) with your self-righteous superiority complex.
My dog is absolutely my baby. Every day I find myself completely in control of another life. A beautiful, sweet, innocent life. That type of responsibility showed me a type of protective and selfless love that I truly didn’t know before.
I see the way my dog looks at me. For food, for protection, for shelter. He loves me just as selflessly and wholly as I love him. He trusts me with his entire life. The look in his eyes when he looks up at me not only fills me with pure love and bliss, but it makes me want to be a better person.
I would die for my dog, and if you’re telling me that after experiencing such a strong, emotional connection with this animal, I still haven’t earned the right to call him my baby, YOU are insulting.