Do you talk to your TV?
I do.
I like to think most people do. They are either yelling, "Don't open that door! He's in there!" or they are screaming at the ref who obviously didn't see what they saw on that last play. Talking to the television is probably one of the more common abnormal behaviors these days. So, it doesn't make me that weird, right?
The thing is, lately I've noticed that I talk quite a bit while I'm driving too. Not to my fellow passengers, or on my phone, or even to the other drivers who are clearly out to ruin my day and test my patience. No, instead I talk to animals I see.
Now I'm weird.
It's fine.
At least I know it.
I can't help myself. If there is a dog hanging out of the window of the car at a stoplight, I can have a full conversation with it. No lie. And heaven help whoever is in my car if there's a stray dog on the side of the road. My inner moral dilemma is immediately vocalized and I start to make up a story about why the dog is on the side of the road and what will probably happen to it if I don't intervene. And if there's a dog that has been hit, well you might as well open the flood gates. It's not pretty.
The same thing happens in movies. People can drop dead left and right, but if something happens to that dog, we are turning it off. Have you seen Gran Torino? People kept getting killed and there's all this tension and the whole time all I could think was, "They had better not hurt his dog." And in war movies like The Patriot, I can see soldiers get slaughtered but if something happens to their horses, I hide my eyes. Sick, right?
I credit this, and many of my other idiosyncrasies, to my mother. Our dog at home is most definitely her favorite child, and since my brother and I have flown the coop, she talks to Rascal about his day all the time. He's there and he has ears. Silky ones, in fact. I have to admit, my mother's love for animals is definitely ingrained in me. I love Rascal, too. How can you not love this face?
It just seems I also love every other animal I've ever seen.
EXCEPT for the neighbor's cat who lurks around my porch. Every time I see him sitting on my patio table, I yell "YOU DON'T LIVE HERE."
Murph voice, "You're the Man, Manny!"
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