I admit it, I just don’t like dogs – and please save the ‘dog mummies’, they are even worse than the baby drilling: Claudia Connell

Before I even had the chance to open the restaurant menu, Kelly is on her boring bragging-a-thon.

She tells me how Maisie is the smartest in her class, the best there has ever been according to the teacher and for others her age. She is not only intelligent, she is also super confident, obedient and easily makes friends.

Then the photos come out. “Isn’t she beautiful? Look at those eyes! ‘Kelly vibrates in a state of strewn recording. “I didn’t want her to have her as thick and shiny as her?”

I tell you what I want, Kelly: that you just remain silent, let me enjoy my cocktail and stop me to get bored with stories about how great your ‘baby’ maisie is.

No real human baby, you understand – a ‘fur baby’. Kelly’s three children have flew the nest for a long time, and Maisie is the Springer tension she bought to fill the emptiness (although I swear that she never went as much about her children as her mutt). Her Instagram Page now proudly proclaims that she is a ‘dog mummy’.

Kelly is already doing a ‘countdown’ to Maisie’s first birthday in August. What a pity that I intend to stay at home and staring at the wall instead of becoming a member of all other dogs and dog mummies for the big celebration. I have not yet recovered from the hysteria of Christmas When Kelly spent a fortune on clothing, toys and treats for Maisie and then picked up her purchases.

In the six decades where she is in the area, it seems that dogs have gone loved, but practical pets to gain the same status as any other (human) member of the family, writes Claudia Connell [stock image]

‘I thought this jumper would keep her warm during walks, but now I am afraid it will be too tight because she is growing so quickly. Do you think she will like it? “She asked me.

It is a dog, Kelly, they are not generally known for their critical thinking.

In the six decades I have already been, it seems that dogs have gone loved, but practical pets to gain the same status as any other (human) member of the family. Their birthdays are celebrated, they get their own Christmas stocking, they eat out and vacation with the family. Their first haircut and toilet training progress is documented on social media.

What I am going to say is usually greeted with the reaction you would expect if I had known if I should have bombard an orphanage, but I will still say it … I don’t like dogs.

In the eyes of some people, I realize that is a huge red flag. They will say that they can never trust anyone who does not worship fangs. But well, I can live with that.

My feelings towards dogs are probably strongly influenced by the time I was attacked by a Doberman while jogging in a park in London. The huge beast ran to me, turned me around and then threw me on the floor. Instead of being full of apologies, the owner blamed me – apparently my screams and attempts to escape the dog think it was a game. Stupid me, I should have just stayed quiet and had myself cut.

That was 15 years ago and today my local park in Brighton was flooded with dogs, not to mention those wonderful small plastic bags filled with shit that seem to hang on every tree branch. Why do people do that?

They also don’t seem to have a dog anymore – they have two or three, often acquired to keep each other company. What is more, if you live in a special middle-class area, you will be forgiven that you think that the only available dogs in the world are a kind of poo/doodle-cross.

They are just like the gray squirrels of the dog world – they have spoken and seen all other species. The only difference is of course that they now change ownership for no less than £ 3,000.

It is not only that I don’t like it by dogs in public places. Even if they don’t attack me, they still smell, drool and throw fur everywhere. But usually I hate how non-hog owners like me are expected to embrace them in my daily life and spoil the obsessions of other people.

There is a pub nearby that does a fantastic Sunday schedule, but I no longer go because it is frankly more dog -friendly than more human -friendly. The dining room is flooded with dogs that appear at your table that are looking for food as soon as the roast beef arrives.

There are now no fewer than 13 million dogs in the UK, figures show – and many are treated by their owners as ‘fur babies’

At the moment I have to add that I don’t like cats much either, but cats are not endlessly needy. Cat owners do not take their mights to pubs, restaurants and shops or mugs if you say you don’t want them in your house.

My visitors know that every invitation only extends and not their pets. A friend text ‘I don’t think I can leave Albert for more than an hour, he will be anxious’ when I invited her for dinner. I was undoubtedly meant to say that her Greyhound was also welcome, but instead I replied, “Let’s go, again.”

At least at my house, guests know that they can eat their meals without licking their feet under the table by an untrained pet-as I ever happened to, thanks to Lucy de Labradoodle who enthusiastically cooked my feet-dressed feet. I thought it was disgusting, the hostess thought it was cute and hilarious.

“Is there a chance that you can put her outside while we eat?” I asked. From the shocked expressions I wondered if I had accidentally asked if they could have Lucy repeated.

Eventually she was placed in the garden for ten minutes, but had to be displayed after whining and crying at the door.

When did the comfort of dogs come for guests? Maybe it was when we started giving them human names. Beyond are the days that dogs were called Rover, Patch and Scamp.

The only reason I agreed to go to the house was because this specific friend always cuts out an evening out to come back for Lucy’s bedtime. I once joked: “It would not surprise me if you read her a story,” and she told me that I shouldn’t be so stupid before she admitted that she was actually singing for her. She also kisses her on the mouth, let her sleep on her bed and paid a small fortune to have her portrait painted.

The most funny of all is that this friend was a particularly strict parent who never surrendered her children. A proponent of ‘controlled crying’, she once told me that she had left her baby for two hours at night. I remember that at the time I thought how cruel that sounded. But quickly Vooruit 25 years and this reinvented dog mummy had replaced her expensive marble floor tiles because she was worried that they were too cold and slippery for Lucy’s legs.

If someone had told me 30 years ago that I would compete in the future for the time and company of my friends with a couple of spanning spaniels and tense terriers, I am not sure if I had believed them.

I met my part of the baby drilling, but they had nothing on this new breed of dogs.

There Are now 13 million dogs in the UK and I am sure that there will be a day that American non-owners (and our hair and odor-free houses) will be in the minority.

In the meantime, however, I will stand on my ground as a voice of common sense in a world full of demented dog lovers.

Names, names and breeds of dogs have changed