i grew up having dogs at home. there was the time when my mother probably felt like a surrogate mother to the shitzus, she was treating them like babies instead of pets. at one point, i think we had 8 or so, and they weren’t kept in a kennel or chained. they were left free to roam around the house, except in the bedrooms.

i don’t remember being antagonistic to pets then, but owning a dog now is the last thing i want to do. i don’t hate dogs. in fact, i just melt at the sight of golden or labrador retrievers. but the hair, man, the hair they shed. arrrgh, gives me the creeps.

so imagine my disgust seeing my own hair litter the floor, the bathroom drain, the bed, leaving a trail wherever i go. if i didn’t know this was normal, i would be alarmed at the rate my hair is falling. if i was my mom’s pet, i’d be downing liters of cod liver oil by now. obviously, the hormones are still raging; at least, i’m not breaking out in acne like an adolescent. thank heavens for small mercies.

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