How to Know When You Don't Have a Life

It's Thursday night. I'm kickin' it with my parents' dog, Molly. Actually, Molly and I are going to be seeing even more of one another than usual because Ma and Pa are out of town, and Molly is old and gets upset. She acts out by going potty in the house and turning over houseplants when people aren't there to feed her boiled chicken breast or let her sit on their laps for a while. I've thought about taking her to my house in the evenings, but I don't think she'll be down for it. She hates the car, and I think she was traumatized a couple of years ago when the concrete guys were pouring my driveway and I made her put her paw in the wet cement. It's right next to my footprint. I love it, because having your name and prints etched in concrete really gives one a sense of ownership, but Molly is scarred for life. She's 91 in dog years and maybe going blind. She smells pretty ripe most of the time, and tries to bite people, but she had to have most of her teeth extracted a few years ago, so she's basically harmless. Just smelly. And grumpy. But I love her.
Anyway, you know that your social life is pretty bad when your parents say, "Can you please take care of the dog for the duration of our luxurious vacation?" Because it's not just coming by to feed Molly. I have to throw her favorite toy "Little Soldier" (a stuffed bear in guard uniform from some trip to London or another) and let her sleep with me. I think I'll be bunking down in my old bed, which is bigger than my bed at home, but I won't sleep well because Miss Molly takes her half up out of the middle. If she needs to go potty in the middle of the night, she will growl at me to walk her outside (plus also she can't get up and down off my bed-- when I still lived at home, I'd considered investing in doggy stairs, but she'd be too lazy to use them anyway). Fluffy Princess, as I like to call her, is all at once all the reasons to have a pet and all the reasons not to. She's loving and loyal and sometimes she'll tell you she loves you by reaching out and touching your foot with her paw. But then there's the whole stinky thing and the incontinence (remember, she's 91!).
One of my former boyfriends didn't ever want any pets, and I remember listing that on the "Pro" side of a list when trying to decide if the relationship should continue. I'm not an animal hater, but I just like clean carpet. Keep a dog outside, you say? It just seems kind of mean! Plus also there's poop in your yard, and then you don't have the freedom to roll around in the grass at will. I thought about getting a cat, but I don't want something that's going to tear up my furniture/curtains/etc. I think cat food smells nasty. If I keep kitty outside, it would keep the lizards away (the best reason to get a cat), but Sego family cats of yore were always loyal and left little dead rodents and lizards and centipedes on the doorstep as an offering of love. If I keep a cat outside, would it even love me? Litter boxes gross me out.
And I sure as heckfire am not getting fish or anything slimy. Nasty. Birds poop a lot and make a lot of noise, and if they get loose, how would I ever catch them? Alfred Hitchcock ruined me on them (plus also the pigeons that used to get in our dorm rooms in Lublin-- disease!). Yeah, poop is kind of keeping me from getting any pets, come to think of it. Or having babies. Just kidding. Though Zoey was a champion pooper yesterday-- four of the six diapers I changed. Ugh.
Good thing I love that kid.