“You’re quirky.”
“What do you mean?”
“You have all these little quirks, like how you call your dog dozens of silly names.”
“Oh. What are some of my other quirks?”
“Well, you’re really controlling. That’s a quirk.”
“That’s not a quirk. That’s a trait. Quirks are supposed to be cute, odd little things. You wouldn’t say Hitler was quirky because he killed millions of Jews.”
I don’t know if calling your dog a million different silly names is really a quirk. I have no idea why my dog is not more confused than he is, because not only do *I* call him 15 different things during any giday, but so do the other members of my family. ven
Or maybe it’s just a quirk of all families of insanely cute (and in our case, ridiculously spoiled) dogs?
A spoiled dog is better than an indoor, spoiled cow.