I want to be the family dog!

Yes that's right! What would drive an almost rational woman to such a statement, you may ask? Months of being thrown aside by my loved ones for the affections of a clever and very devious English Pointer, named Wilma...that's what! Oh it all started out very innocently to be sure, my husband said he wanted a new bird dog to add to his collection. Why not? I thought, he works hard, what difference is one little dog going to make around here, oh how naive I was in the beginning. When Joe brought her home, the kids instantly fell in love with her, they fought over her attentions...even the teenagers. I should've seen the red flag then when I could still do something about it. I'd seen this kind of affection before, I rationalized, and assured myself that once Wilma was out of the puppy stage the kids would move on to something else. That's when Wilma put her plan of stealing my family away from me to work. She went and got her leg broken. I know, pretty tricky for such a small dog. For weeks she laid in our living room drinking in the sad eyes of my kids and watching Monday Night Football with Joe until her leg healed. The puppy phase was long gone, but now she was a part of our daily routine. By then the battle was over, and before I even had a chance to fight back, the dog had won. She was the heart of the home, and I became chopped liver. Now life at our house reads like this: Wilma wakes up the kids 8 - 18 by 8:00 am by jumping on their beds and licking their faces. Do they get grossed out? Do they even push her away, no they giggle and squeeze her tight. (I don't even try to touch my teens as it sends them into dry heaves after age 14, kissing is out of the question, and unlike Wilma, I don't use my tongue to clean myself!) Kids have breakfast, leave the house for school, ball practice, whatever and come home with a smile on their faces yelling "Wilma! I'm home!" running past me as I fold the laundry to hug and pat the dog. They take her for walks, knowing they will be seen in public and by their peers in her presence, which is another privilege I do not enjoy. In the evening, when I finish doing the dishes and I go in to snuggle with my honey there is Wilma again hogging the middle of the bed looking adorable next to my husband, she has all the time in the world for him. The weirdest part of it all is that even I have to admit I am incurably in love with this funny little animal. Not in a million years did I believe I would ever have a drooling, shedding little mess maker in my house (unless it was an offspring), but now, even I can't think of a day with out Wilma in it. With that said I would get rid of her in a heartbeat if that meant I could be the one caressed, adored and seen in public with all my kids and snuggling up to Joe all during Monday Night Football.