Advance warning: this got really long and ranty, so TL;DR my mom should not own so much as a goldfish because she is a completely shitty pet owner that doesn't take proper care of animals.

Finally deciding to open up about this. Disclaimer #1: I'm not trying to spin it as any sort of abuse, because I don't think it is (although I could be wrong on that, maybe it actually is and I just don't know any better). It's just something that irritates the crap out of me that my mom does, and since this is the "toxic-parents-and-all-the-bad-stuff-they-do" sub I figured it fit best here.

Disclaimer #2: I'm afraid to say this anywhere else publicly/on reddit because everyone on the planet absolutely loves dogs, so even though I know I'm in a support group/safe place, I'm still afraid I'll get attacked for such an unpopular opinion. If this does not belong here, let me know and I'll take it down and apologize.

My mom has two dogs. I can't stand them, and I really resent her over them. Here's why.

1. She lets them pee and poop all over the house. She sees the poop stains on the carpet every day, there's no way she doesn't, and yet she doesn't acknowledge they're there. They just don't exist to her, I guess, or she doesn't care. We live in filth. It's disgusting, and yet she doesn't seem to give a single fuck as long as she has her precious little babies.

2. As a result of #1, the whole downstairs of my house smells like ammonia, I think. If it's not ammonia, then whatever it is it's just foul. It stinks. (They don't come upstairs where my room is, thankfully, since there used to be a door at the bottom of the stairs. So my upstairs is nice and spotless and stench-free.)

3. In June of 2015, right after I'd graduated high school, she got a job. This was fine and dandy. What was not fine and dandy was how I had to find out the hard way that she left for work at 7 in the morning. How did I learn this? Because every morning when she left, I'd wake up to this unholy racket of barking/howling/crying. I'd try to go back to sleep, only to have it happen again every half-hour or so. If there's one thing I hate, it's having my sleep disrupted. In December that same year, I was given earplugs by a friend when he found out this was happening. I've been sleeping with them since, regardless of whether or not I need them.

4. Her dogs are small. A Yorkshire terrier and "teacup" dachshund. I say that with quotes because the dachshund is extremely fat. You can hear it breathing all the time, it sounds strange and probably labored. It's an ugly dog, too. I've come to hate dachshunds in particular.

5. In addition to #4, she feeds these dogs off her own plate all the time, which is probably why the dachshund is so obese. She also feeds them treats, which I hate because they don't eat them, but every week or two she'll come hoe with like ten little bags of the fucking things. I think it's such a pointless waste of money. Additionally, I don't think these animals eat any actual dog food anymore because she feeds them almost half of whatever she eats. She needlessly spoils them. They're just animals, not children.

6. She knows full fucking well that I can't stand her animals, and she doesn't care. In December 2015, we were preparing to move, and I tried to talk to her. I tried to tell her that I didn't want her dogs coming with us to the new house because I wanted it to stay clean. Her reaction was to get quiet and teary-eyed (which, I guess, was better than getting angry and screaming at me). She tried to make excuses: she said we'd "get the dogs trained" (bullshit), claimed they were really housetrained (bullshit x2) and that we just couldn't let them outside in the winter because it hurt them (bullshit x3 COMBO). I actually listened to that and let it slide, even though I didn't think any of it was true. I just dropped it so she'd stop fucking crying. She knows full well I hate having these things in the house, and yet she clearly doesn't care. It's made me feel like she doesn't care about me at all because if she did give a shit, she wouldn't be keeping these filthy creatures around. But she does keep them in the house despite knowing my dislike of them, so clearly they must be more important than me. I don't want to sound entitled, but god damn it, I'm her daughter. Don't I deserve to live in a clean environment where I can actually sleep? What makes these goddamn dogs more important than me that they remain in the house making everything filthy?

7. Based on #1-6, I came to the conclusion years ago that she is absolutely unfit to own animals. At this point, I wouldn't even trust her with a fucking goldfish. She thinks all these dogs need are food, shelter, water, and love and they'll be fine. This is absolutely untrue. Owning a pet takes actual work and commitment, which I have never seen her put into these dogs in ten years of having dogs in the house. She gives them whatever they want, lets them do whatever they want (including fucking defiling our living space with their filthy excrement as mentioned in #1), and doesn't care that they get away with everything and annoy me and our housemate (her best friend). They're her precious little babies and she ~loves~ them, so fuck everyone else because she's not getting rid of them.

8. I would love to try to talk some sense into her about all this, but I've concluded that she's delusional about these damn dogs. She's got her head so far up her own ass that I am certain she would not listen to a word I said if I tried to explain to her that she's not taking proper care of these animals and that I feel like she doesn't care about me at all in favor of them. I feel like there is no reaching her. Those things will always be more important than my desire to live in a clean fucking house that doesn't stink and there won't be anything I can do about it until it becomes feasible for me to finally move out, which I don't think I can do anytime soon.

At one point I actually got so desperate to unload all this that about a year-and-a-half ago I posted on relationships asking what to do. You know what happened? I got called hateful and entitled, and told that "her house, her rules" (which is stupid fucking "logic" that I can't stand) and I could move out if I didn't like it. Except I can't move out and I don't expect to be able to until after I'm out of college. If I could move I sure as shit would. And hypothetical-general-you would be pissed-off too if your house was fucking filthy because of someone else's bad choices. And "entitled"? Fuck off (not actually you guys here), I'm entitled to a clean living space, aren't I? That doesn't make me some bratty princess, it makes me a person with rights, doesn't it? Jesus. I don't post there anymore, and now I try my hardest to never come across as entitled.

This all has resulted in a dislike, maybe even hatred, of dogs. I know not all dogs are as bad as hers, and I know it's her fault and not theirs, but it's really hard not to have an automatic repulse/disgust reaction in my head whenever I see people posting their "cute" dog pictures on imgur or whatever. It's hard to tell myself that dogs aren't always that horrible, and that with proper care and training (like you're supposed to fucking do), dogs can be positive things rather than negative. It's so hard to try to realize that when I come home every day to these horrible creatures that have made me miserable for years.

I'm sorry, this got long and I know I was mean about "man's best friend." I just needed to get this off my chest, I guess. If you made it this far, thanks for reading.