Last few women I’ve dated all have cats, dogs, birds, bears, raccoons, dinosaurs, etc. and it’s gotten to me. I’ve gotten clawed while in bed with said woman, i’ve stepped on various pets, I’ve declined the chance to cook dinner at her place because of the omnipresent pet hair all over every surface of her kitchen, and I’ve gotten generally grossed out by pets at every turn. I’m not a pet person, and when I’ve been, I’ve found a way to limit the pets’ presence to a part of my house, or to the outdoors, or something of the sort.
I could make it a dealbreaker. “Hello.”
“Hi, Do you have any pets? Yes? Goodbye.”
And maybe I should. But I was hoping to get lucky.
The emotional dependence on creatures bugs me, too, or maybe even primarily. “I can’t get away for the weekend unless I find someone to take care of Tinky, and Blinky, and of course Stinky. Pinky has special needs, so it’s almost imposible to find a good caretaker for him, of course, and Twinky smells almost as bad as Stinky lately, so I understand why no one wants to take him in for even fifteen minutes, and Kinky and Linky are twins so how could I possibly split up that pair…” THEY’RE YOUR FUCKING PETS, GIRL, NOT YOUR ENTIRE BASIS FOR LIVING. I’ve had women tell me sad, sad tales about their problems finding any sort of guy to go out with, despite their obvious beauty and smarts and charm and wealth and sex appeal–meanwhile I’m going “Have you looked at the fucking nightmare menagerie you’re living in? Of course no one wants to get involved with the fucking zoo you’re running here. Are you totally delusional?” But instead of expressing that thought, I just nod my head and softly intone, “Yes, yes, it’s a puzzle, isn’t it?”
But here, in the safety of the SD, I will offer this advice, gratis: If you’re a lonely single woman who can’t figure out why guys tend to shy away from you despite your abundant attractive qualities, and you have pets, think about it.