Oscar from Britain

Until I got Shea, I was highly critical about overly active pet owners. I was the one who mocked the people who brought their dogs to Petsmart with them. I laugh at the idea of talking to your pets. I was disgusted by the fact that people let their pets "kiss" them. Even when I agreed to get a puppy, I was sure I would not partake in any of the aforementioned actions.

I truly believed this, until I fell in love with Shea. Now, I think it's a great opportunity to get him out of the house when we go to Petsmart. I find myself talking to him like he can answer me, and I beg him for kisses. However, I feel that I am not overly obsessive with my guy (Jeff may beg to differ). Jeff would have to agree if he had seen this woman today!

Shea and I were walking along and coming upon a cute little white dog. A small dog. I'm not one to really like small dogs, except for my nephew-puppy, Diggy, but this one really was cute. We will call him Oscar because that is what I later found out was his name. 

As Shea and Oscar approached each other, his owner said hello. She commented, in a perfectly clear, northeastern accent about how big he was. That was about all she had to say to me, the human. The rest of the encounter revolved around her talking to Oscar. And not in that perfectly clear, northeastern accent I was talking about. Suddenly, when talking to Oscar, she was British, sounding more like Austin Powers than a lady walking around upstate New York. 

"Ozzz-caaaa," she sang to him, "you's a weeee litt-ill pup." No lie! I quickly commented on how both dogs were very white and again, rather than talking to me, she spoke to her litt-ill Oz-ca. "Oh, Ozzz-caaaa, you's white as white." Wow, I was flabbergasted. Maybe I hadn't heard her voice correctly when she said hello. There is no way she is talking to her dog in a completely different voice than she does to people. 

I decided to give her the benefit of the doubt. I must have misheard her. I had no way of telling as she did not say goodbye to me. Instead she said in her thick British accent, "Commmme on Ozzz-caaaa. Time to go." 

That benefit of the doubt didn't last, as we made our lap back around the path. There she was, with little Oscar, talking to a man. Talking to a man in perfectly plain, clear, American English. While this left me laughing hysterically, it also makes me wonder what in the heck is wrong with people??