Dora, age 43, has more patience for dogs—even really dumb dogs—than she does for people.

I live in a really friendly building, and it's a little bit gossipy here, so when I moved in, word traveled fast that I worked at home. So people said, "Hey, since you're home, do you mind checking on my dog?" and I said sure, I love dogs.

One thing that's really annoying, is when I'm walking down the street, people want to stop and chat. And I don't want to. I'm out with the dogs: the dogs are my company. They're not a conversation piece. Sometimes I pretend I don't speak english. Sometimes I pretend I have something in my mouth so that I can't talk; I pretend I'm chewing. Because I get so tired of answering the same questions: How old is that dog? What breed is that dog? Where did you get that dog? Are those dogs twins? Every question, over and over and over!

The thing is, I like dogs better than people. Dogs don't judge you, they don't give you a hard time, they don't expect anything but love and attention. They just want to have fun. They don't want to have a fight. They just don't get on my nerves. And people really get on my nerves. And a lot of people aren't that bright. And even though some dogs aren't bright (which isn't my favorite kind of dog; I much prefer a very intelligent dog), but even a dog that's not as bright irritates me less than a person who isn't bright.

I used to really want children, but I didn't find the right husband, and I didn't want to be a single parent, but now that I have my dog, Buddy, I realize that this is so much better. He's never going to worry me! He's never going to go out and get drunk, he's never going to ask me to borrow money, he's never going to take out the car and get into an accident, I never have to worry about him getting somebody pregnant. He won't be a teenager, he won't be a brat. He'll always be my little boy!