Before I start this post, let me concede that my mom and I may be certifiably crazy. So, for any of you who advocate for me adopting Alvin, this post should cause you to pause and reconsider your stance.
Today Stevie was snuggled up next to me on the couch and I slid her over, put her in my lap and scratched her in all her favorite places. While scratching her, I said, "You're mine. You belong to us." My mom responded by telling me not to say that in front of Alvin because it could hurt his feelings. I would have liked to have responded by telling her she was crazy and that a dog can't understand what humans are saying, but I couldn't say a word because of my own behavior. Once in a while my mom lovingly makes jokes about Alvin and I involuntarily respond by sounding horrified and saying, "don't you talk like that! What if he understands what you just said?" I know it's utterly ridiculous but I always think of people in comas when people talk in front of them, only to find out later the person could hear and understand them. Granted, that would be a human I am talking about and Alvin is not only a dog but one that doesn't comprehend quite a bit, but crazily, I still try to cover the base of insanity. I can't even comfort myself with the erroneously held belief that if a person thinks that they are crazy then they're not crazy, because crazy people don't know that they are crazy. It turns out, that is not true and that there are crazy people who know they are crazy, and all signs are pointing the fact that I am one of them. Much to your relief, Alvin remains up for adoption and may be able to escape Casa Crazy.