It's very helpful to hear ya'lls experiences in this matter. Sometimes **** comes out of left field at ya. Things were going swell and then last year she adopted some neurotic, anxiety-ridden rescue schnauzer that would **** the floor, roll around in it, and smear itself on all the furniture if she left it alone. She became obsessed with it like it was a child. Wouldn't go anywhere without it and then there wasn't room for me in the relationship. Which I could understand if it was a child. But it was a dog. Oh well.
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