They say you can tell a lot about a person by the car they drive. But I think you can tell quite a bit more about a person by their choice of pets (or lack thereof). Of course, it’s not usually within the first few minutes of a conversation that you learn whether someone is a “dog person” or a “cat person”, unless perhaps you are in the pet food aisle of the grocery store. And really, why does it come down to “dog person” and/or “cat person”? How come we don’t care if someone is a “bird, guinea pig, snake, or goldfish person”? No offense to all of you who have branched out. I took an unofficial poll and found that our company is comprised overwhelming of “dog people”. The most popular breed is the loyal, easy-going and intelligent Lab Retrievers, followed by various breeds of small fluffy floor dusters. It’s kind of interesting that the larger dogs are owned by the gals here and most of the little puff balls are owned by the guys. Could it be that the guys were acquiescing to their children’s and/or wife’s pleas to purchase the most adorable tiny, over priced designer puppy in the whole wide world? And this guy who, in an attempt to remain the alpha male in the presence of his entourage, must act indifferent to the precious little yipper named Pixie so as none of his friends questions his masculinity. But once he’s alone, snoring on the couch on a lazy Sunday afternoon, the dog’s preferred seat in the house (curled up in the crease of his arm) tells a different story. One thing I noticed when talking with everyone here about their pets was their reaction to my questions. Some were excited to tell me about their dog: her name, breed etc. Others were less than thrilled, probably because the animal’s “pain in the rump factor” is outweighing its cuteness. Speaking of pain, I recently became dog-less. He had always been somewhat of a mental case in the five years of our co-existence, but we had an agreement, I’d feed him and he wouldn’t bite me. But he breached our contract and chomped on my hand when I tried to lift up all 7 pounds of him. Since I’m somewhat intolerant of schizophrenic animals anyway, I decided to give him up for adoption, in hopes that he will find a home where someone has one too many fingers. So now I’m one of two “lack thereof” animal lovers here at Stuckey and Company. I won’t tell you which one of us here owns the only feline, mostly because she hates Elvira the black cat. But if it’s true that you can tell a lot about a person by their pets, then you may be able to figure it out yourself.
Tags: Insurance, Insurance Coverage, Stuckey, Stuckey & Co.