A Serious Commitment

I have recently noticed, although I am sure it has been going on far longer than I have cared to acknowledge, I often refer to myself as "we." This makes sense for people who are married and have two brains making many of the decisions for a shared life, but not for a single-person, single-income, presumably single-brain household like mine. What is my excuse? I have a dog.

Ella is her name. She believes she is human - but that is neither here nor there.

Our lives are inextricably intertwined, and perhaps this is why if someone asks, "What did you do this weekend?" I find myself saying, "We just hung out at home." We, being of course, the dog and me.

"We" do a lot together, it turns out. "We" clean the house, surf the Internet, watch TV and do laundry. However, "I" perform the activities that take place outside of the house. "I" bowl, do the grocery shopping and go to work. Is it strange that I factor the dog into the equation when describing what goes on at home? I am not sure. I often call her "the dog" to remind myself she is just that, a DOG, but it doesn't seem to help.

I try to be careful who I say "we" around because the listener may a) become confused; b) think I am nuts; or c) all of the above. Still, sometimes it just slips out.

The truth is, as a single-twenty-something-year-old, 300 miles away from family, and about 90 miles from my closest friends, "the dog" is a very big part of my life. We do a lot of activities together (even if she doesn't actually help with the cleaning, the moral support is evident) and in some respects, she is like a significant other or a special friend - but better (in some respects). She is always delighted to see me, she never judges me, and she does not complain if I leave dirty laundry (especially underwear) out in the open. Sure, she leaves hair everywhere, but that's a minor inconvenience.

And let's not forget, she is super cute.