You KNOW You're A Dog Person When ...

• You slipcover all the furniture in a complementary color to your dog to make it easier to hide/remove the dog hair.

• Your dog gets regular checkups every 6 months, but you've lived in the state for five years and don't have a doctor yourself.  (Score double points on this one if you have a reserve vet lined up for your dogs as well.)

• You don't think twice about trading licks of an ice cream cone with your dog.

• You justify the purchase of a larger vehicle or house because of the dogs.

• Your neighbors cringe at your landscaping ... more chainlink to fence off the few remaining shrubs, more deep sandy "pits" than patches of grass and more slabs of concrete.

• You buy premium quality dog kibble for your dog, but live on take-out, frozen pizza and blue-box macaroni and cheese yourself.

• You meet someone when out walking your dogs and introduce your dog first.

• Vaccination and licensing records for all your dogs are in perfect order, but your checkbook hasn't been balanced in months, and last year's tax records are nowhere to be found.

• You have a plastic kiddie wading pool in the backyard, but no kids.  (Double points if you have a pool for each dog.)

• Your dog gets a deep cut on the pad of his foot and gets emergency medical attention at the vet, but you break your toes and settle for taping them together with duct tape and taking some aspirin to kill the pain.

• You buy supplements for your dog and administer them daily (wrapped in cheese if necessary), but consider yourself fortunate if you remember to take your own more than twice a week.

• Your family has resigned themselves to the fact that you're bringing your dog to all holiday gatherings, or you don't bother coming at all.

• You keep license tags from dogs long gone to the Rainbow Bridge.

• You change jobs so you can spend more time with the dogs.

• You use kennel disinfectant in the house.

• Your parents give up on grandchildren and start to refer to your dogs as "your kids".  (Bonus points if they start to call them "our granddogs".

• You have kiddie gates permanently installed at strategic locations in the house, but no kids.

• You have nose prints on all glass surfaces ... windows, doors, inside the car, etc., and you leave them there because cleaning them seems so futile at this point.

• Your dog gets sick and you sleep next to him in a sleeping bag in the kitchen in case he needs to go out.  You take a sick day from work to take care of your dog.

• Relative solidity of dog excrement is a suitable topic for discussion in mixed company.

• You don't work late or socialize after work because you have to get home to take care of your dog.

• You have hundreds of pictures of your dog on your desk at work, in your wallet, etc., but none of your family or yourself.

• You keep the heartworm medication in the refrigerator in the "deli drawer".

• You don't mind finding dog hair in the sink, tub, embedded in the carpet or clothes, or mixed in your food.  (Take an extra point if you don't bother trying to remove it from your food ... extra protein, right?)

• Half your laundry is dog blankets, sheets and beds.

• You upgrade from a queen to king-size bed to make room for the third or fourth dog.

• You've had long meaningful discussions with your friends about the best way to trim your dog's nails, but have never had a manicure or pedicure in your life.

• No one wants to ride in your car because they know they'll get dog hair on their clothes.  (Bonus points if you've removed the rear seats to make room for dogs and dog crates.)

• You talk to your dogs the way most people talk to their children.

• You go to pet supply stores on weekends because it's one of the few places you can take your dog.

• All of your furniture is second hand or "curbside discard", but your dog crates are top of the line, industry premium.  You consider dog crates to be an inspired form of interior decorating.  (Bonus if you use them as end tables in your living room.)

• You spend more time and effort grooming your dog than yourself.  And it shows ... your dog gets more compliments than you do.

• You know more about canine nutrition than human nutrition (and it shows.)

• Your dog gets his coat stripped/trimmed more often than you get a haircut.

• The only thing friends, colleagues say when they see you is "How are the dogs?" or "How many dogs do you have now?"

• You order a satellite dish or cable just so you can watch the Westminster Kennel Club show once a year.

• You hate posing for pictures unless you're with your dog.

• You're willing to pet sit, but not baby sit, for friends.

• All of your clothes have dog hair on them, even when they come back from the laundromat or dry cleaners.

• You've had a bad day and decide that your dog is the best "person" to talk it over with.

• You celebrate dog events (new dog, dog birthday, finished championships, etc.) by throwing catered parties with lots of people ... but ignore your own birthday.

• Your vet, back-up vet, emergency vet clinic, obedience instructor are all programmed speed dials on your phone.

• You have extra dog collars and leashes on the walls, grooming tools on the TV and sofa, dog beds strewn across all flat surfaces, kibble crud around the base of your cabinets, chew toys everywhere, dog-fur dust rhinos skidding across the carpet and floors, and a long line of drips from the water bucket to the living room across the hardwood floors ... and you don't care.  (Bonus and automatic win if you have important company coming and you ignore all the housekeeping in order to groom the dogs before they arrive.)