Replaced By A Puppy

Regular readers will know about my issues with my parents discovered that their daughter is a rug muncher. An update on the situation is a little too depressing. Ranting abounds, but only at sporadic intervals (usually when I least expect it). I’m still being urged to change my sinful ways, I’m still not the cherished daughter they knew and loved. I’m still a lesbian (if a slightly irregularly blogging one – sorry).

My dog, a beautiful Yorkshire terrier I grew up with, pass away in January. He lived a long and fulfilled 18 years, experiencing as much love as 2 children and parents could bestow upon his little ginger whiskers. Not living at home, it hasn’t fully hit me yet, but no doubt it will.

In reaction to this shocking (but not unexpected) event, my parents have indulged their wishes in buying a terribly cute Yorkshire terrier puppy. Aside from my slight annoyance that they bought a puppy after I’d moved to university, I am happy. A puppy! A little miniature doggy to love and take for walks and cuddle and feed (and clean up after, and pay for….)

Needless to say my parents are benefiting, as every dog owner does, from it’s unconditional love and general cuteness. Yes, indeed, it’s quite replaced me. Their every thought is of it’s needs. Phone calls are filled with it’s daily activities and they are training it to behave itself better than their daughter ever could.

Not that I’m jealous of the dog. He is after all terribly cute (see picture), and it’s not his fault – he couldn’t choose his owners, in the same way I couldn’t choose my parents.

But surely there is a better way to replace me than with a dog? What are they trying to say?