You have more dog beds, chew toys, collars, leashes, harnesses, and dog crates than you have dogs.

You meet other people with dogs, and remember their dog's call name after 30 seconds, but don't get the owner/handler's name until you've met them 2 or 3 times.

You don't think twice about trading licks of an ice cream cone with your dog.

Your parents give up on grandchildren and start to refer to your dogs as "your kids" or your children." (Bonus: they start to call them "our granddogs.")

90 percent of your Internet connection time goes to the dogs (seeing what's new when you enter your breed into the browser, reading up on multiple lists, checking out photos, sounds and FAQs, etc.).

You have hundreds of pictures of your dogs on your desk at work, in your wallet, etc., but none of your family or yourself. No one wants to ride in your car because they know they'll get dog hair on their clothes.

You reach into your pockets for change, and liver treats, dog kibble, and pick-up bags fall all over. (Bonus: You've done this in a classy establishment.)

You've had long meaningful discussions with your friends on the best way to trim your dog's nails, but have never had a manicure or pedicure in your lifetime.

Books and movies are ruined for you if the dog references are incorrect.

The highlight of your day is spending time with your dog. You watch simply awful movies because your breed is either featured in a cameo scene or there's a 3-second camera shot during a crowd scene.

All of your clothes have dog hair on them, even when they come back from the laundromat or dry cleaners.

The only thing your friends, colleagues, and passing acquaintances say to you when they see you is, "How are the dogs?" or "How many dogs do you have now?"

Your photo Christmas cards feature your dogs (humans optional).