Cracked Columnists

5 Things Nobody Tells You About Adopting a Dog

#2. People Who Work in Shelters Hate Other People

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There's something about working in an animal shelter that's appealing to people who resent other people. All of the employees and volunteers have already given up on humans and have glorified dogs. In every shelter I visited, I was greeted by a person whose face seemed to scream "Great, another human. Another lazy, cruel, deceitful human. You'd never lie to me, right, dogs and cats? No, you'd never lie."

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"You'd never leave me for my sister, would you? No. We'd stay together forever."

They hate you, they don't trust you and they don't think anyone will ever truly be ready for a dog. I'm sure there's some merit in their hesitation to trust humans. When you work in a shelter, I imagine you see some pretty horrible things that humans do to animals, and I imagine that distorts your point of view a little bit. They don't trust humans, because humans sometimes leave their poor dogs on the side of the road in the middle of the night, because the human couldn't handle the responsibility. I get that.

But get over your dog obsession; I've had dogs my entire life. Plus I'm waving money at you and this is America, give me a dog.

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America!

As a result of their settled hatred for humans, the people who run shelters are in no way motivated to help you rescue a dog. They're so committed to saving and raising lost dogs that humans take a far backseat and, as a result, some slip through the cracks. That's why they didn't give me the dog, and not because I didn't pass all of their tests; someone at the shelter simply made a mistake and gave the dog to someone else. I didn't get the dog because humans ran the shelter, and humans are worthless idiots (oh, shit, now I'm doing it).

So even though I'd had all of the dog toys and paraphernalia for weeks (as a result of the long application process), I still had no dog in my future, which is unfortunate, because ...

#1. Not Having a Dog Makes You the Saddest Person

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Let me be clear: I'm not claiming to be the "saddest person" based on how I feel, because this has nothing to do with emotions. I'm saying I'm the guy who's been living alone in an apartment with a dog bed, a dog crate, dog bowls, a dog toy, treats (for when he's being a good little guy!) and a big honking bag of dog food for weeks, but still no dog. This has nothing to do with how I feel. I'm saying that, on paper, without question, objectively, I am by definition the saddest thing there is. I'm the guy sitting at home in the dark, drinking and squeaking a chew toy until the squeaker breaks. Do you understand that? That's "senile old lady absentmindedly setting a plate for her husband because she forgot he recently passed away" level of sadness, are you here with me?

Even if I'm not feeling particularly sad, I can't deny the idea of sadness inherent to telling guests "Why, no, I don't have a dog," despite the fact that there's clearly a dog bowl in the kitchen that may or may not have a name prematurely Sharpied on the side of it.

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Well, this has been just a terrible way to end an article. Usually when I'm bummed out I look at pictures of cute animals to cheer m- OH GOD THAT JUST MADE IT WORSE!


Daniel O'Brien is Cracked.com's senior writer (ladies) and would make an excellent doggy dad (puppies!).

For more heart-wrenchers from Dan, check out What The Fuck Happened to TV? and Pop Culture's Retarded Future: Stuff They're Actually Making.

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