To all those people who think it’s cute to dress their dog, please find something else to occupy your time. Normal people usually kill time with hobbies, significant others, and pursuing addictions.
Nobody cares if you just bought a canary yellow frock with matching coolats for your 9-year-old schnauzer named Gregory.
I can maybe understand if it’s a hairless Chihuahua that needs a sweater to avoid catching hypothermia, but a chow or St. Bernard doesn’t need an extra set of clothing, just the fur that was given to it by God, L. Ron Hubbard, David Koresh, the Smurfs, or whoever and whatever else you choose to believe.
I really don’t think dogs enjoy attending tea parties organized by your sick dog-dressing cult while collectively dressed up as the doggy cast of Little House on The Prairie.
It’s humiliating to them. I bet all the other dogs ridicule them when they have walked around their backyard dressed like Michael Landon. None of the dogs of the opposite sex ever want to go out with them because they look like freaks.
Thus, if you dress your dog, you don’t really love your dog. All you care about is your own selfish desire to experience schadenfreude.
How many dogs’ lives do you people have to ruin before you can finally get your jollies?