You have a kiddie wading pool in the yard, but no small children.
Lint wheels are on your shopping list every week.
You have baby gates permanently installed at strategic places around the house, but no babies.
The trash basket is more or less permanently installed in the kitchen sink, to keep the dog out of it while you're at work.
You can't see out the passenger side of the windshield because there are nose-prints all over the inside.
Poop has become a source of conversation for you and your significant other.
You refer to yourselves as Mommy and Daddy.
Your dog sleeps with you.
You have 32 different names for your dog. Most make no sense, but she understands.
You have little songs that you sing to your dog, and she always wags when you sing, even though you can't carry a tune.
Your dog eats cat poop, but you still let her kiss you (but not immediately afterward, of course).
You like people who like your dog. You despise people who don't.
You carry dog biscuits in your purse or pocket at all times.
You talk about your dog the way other people talk about their kid.
You sign and send birthday/anniversary/Christmas cards from your dog.
You put an extra blanket on the bed so your dog can be comfortable.
You'd rather stay home on Saturday night and cuddle your dog than go to the movies with your sweetie.
You go to the pet supply store every Saturday because it's one of the very few places that lets you bring your dog inside, and your dog loves to go with you.
