You’re a tacky dog collector before you know it

Sometimes you sit on the couch..look around you…and discover you’re becoming a tacky dog collector at a very rapid pace. It’s not already as bad as it sounds, but I have to be careful. In the blink of an eye, I’ve become a hoarder with cupboards filled with porcelain dog statues. That might get me on Oprah, but I don’t know if that’s a good thing :-)

A nice example of my tacky dog wake-up call occured a while ago when I visited a thriftshop with my sisters-in-law (what a lucky girl am I, to have two sisters-in-law that want to go thrifting with me and find it actually funny to see me marching through the racks with old stuff with a ‘serious business’ look on my face). I stumbled upon a very, very tacky (I admit it) poodle statue and asked my sisters if it would be a good plan to take the poodle home with me. I’ve never seen the look on two faces change so fast from amused to complete horror. I shouldn’t have told them about Frank, my porcelain greyhound (above), or Lolly, my vintage dog planter. I should have kept my big mouth and just buy the poodle and hide it from my sisters-in-law. Alas…me and the poodle weren’t meant to be. My sisters convinced me not to buy it. They warned me I was rapidly changing into a crazy porcelain dog hoarder, that my Love would leave me and that I might even get on Oprah with my crazy collections.
Ah well…I didn’t know what name to give the poodle anyway.