Something Must Be Wrong With Me. . .

I have spent most of my life LOATHING all animals. The thought of touching or picking up any animal was enough to send chills of disgust down my spine, and I viewed those who loved animals as slightly disturbed. It seemed that every time I tried to have a positive experience with animals, such as at the zoo, I left feeling disgusted and disturbed. Take the Hogle Zoo for example; the animals are either dead, severely maimed, or MIA. Okay, I guess there's the one exception of the frantically neighing female zebra who can't get away from the horny male zebra on her back. And why do they have to mate with sexual organs anyway--why can't they just touch paws, or rub noses?! Has anyone ever seen a female mating that wasn't trying to get away? The only other memory I have of an animal at the Hogle Zoo is a revolting bat hanging upside down and PISSING, that' the only word for it, on another animal underneath him. EWWWWW!!
I must relate two other negative experiences I've had with animals. The first is when I went to a school fair as a child and won 10 goldfish. I took them home and stuck them in a container about the size of a tea cup, don't ask me why I didn't choose something bigger. One day, my Mom made me clean out the "fish bowl" and while doing this, a couple of the fish jumped out into the sink. There they were, flapping frantically for their lives and I was FROZEN with shock and disgust. So, in a moment of insanity, I TURNED ON THE GARBAGE DISPOSAL because I couldn't fathom having to pick them up with my bare hands and I didn't want them to suffer. What was I thinking?! As if being cut up in a garbage disposal was more humane then flip-flopping around and suffocating in a cold sink!
The next "choice" experience occurred one bright, and beautiful day while at a park. I was watching baby Madison swing on the swings when Christian came up to me with a DEAD BIRD and exclaimed, "Look Mama!" I screamed and then told him to throw it back where he got it. I did not realize that the place he had gotten it was by my car. So, because I was afraid to look at it, touch it, or move it, I rolled back over it with my car as we left, fully knowing it was there. I know I sound cruel, but really it was the bird that was cruel for dying in the wrong place and thus forcing me to roll over it with my car.
The reason that I have told you (all 2 readers) about these experiences is that I have a confession: Although my dog is a dim-wit, I think I may have feelings for her--positive feelings, like maybe fondness or dare I say, love. Just saying that sounds foreign and odd coming from me, but I am perplexed by these new-found emotions and felt I need to clear my mind by talking about them. Now that she (Jasmine) is mine, I find myself thinking she is cuter than other dogs and more well behaved than other dogs. Now I know she is stupid, but that's okay because she is really cute. The other day, while reading on the couch, I found myself enjoying her licking my feet! I know it's gross, but for some reason, I didn't mind it. I have even taken her in bed with me, which I said I would NEVER do. Which leads me to my question, what is it about something being YOURS that causes you to lose your mind? It's the same with kids--I think most parents would agree that you usually think your kids are the cutest, smartest, most noble, precious people on the Earth, but what if it's all a HOAX? What if they really aren't that cute, smart, precious, and talented? What if they weren't yours and you saw them in some restaurant, and you thought, "What homely, ill-behaved children they are?! Okay, maybe I'm taking it too far. My children are adorable, smart, and talented, but why do I like my dog? She poops incessantly on anything soft, she frequently has a "snaggle tooth" because of her severe overbite, she is disobedient, and may have some learning disabilities, she eats her poo, and is mean to her sister Gidget, but I LOVE HER! Go figure.