We don't have kids, and I won't insult parents out there by saying that our dog is our child. Yes, we are in charge of the health, happiness and well being of our dog. No, I won't compare her to your child, or the job you have to do as parents. It's not similar, but just because I am not one of those people that compares having pets to having kids doesn't mean I'm not pathetic.

I am. I totally am. The reason I know this is because of the cameras that are trained on the rooms at Camp Bow Wow. Now, when my dog is at doggy day care, I can surf over and watch her...doing nothing...at doggy day care. The pathetic comes in when I start to feel sad while watching.

The thing about our dog is, well, she's sensitive. And deep. She doesn't make friends easily, although she is extremely lovable. She's not one of these dogs with no standards that will play with any dog that approaches her. No way. In fact, it makes it hard for her to make friends. This is a concern for me, but even more so for my wife.

She started taking Della to doggy day care at first so she could socialize and live a richer life. I started watching her on the cams that very day and I realized something. She doesn't want friends. And she doesn't want to go to doggy day care. If she does, then her favorite thing about doggy day care is the gate, because, as you can see in the photo, she never leaves it. She doesn't sniff other dogs. She doesn't play with other dogs. She holds vigil by the gate and doesn't leave it until we have come to rescue from what is apparently her own private hell.

We are pretty sure that she doesn't like it because when my wife goes to drop her off and pulls into the parking lot, Della begins to quiver and looks at Sarah as if to say "Please don't leave me here." It's sad. And pathetic. Just like me, when I watch her on the cams.