We Victoria

I know there's a lot of kitteh action around here, but it's only because there are no dogs at Shakes Manor. That's not because we don't like dogs; in fact, both of us really dig dogs. We're just lazy assholes, and thusly better suited to be cat owners owned by cats.

But, like I said, we love dogs. And we are hopelessly, helplessly addicted to It's Me or the Dog, because we are positively mad for Victoria Stilwell.

Between the preternatural rapport with pooches, the penchant for pulling the greatest faces evah, the dominatrix gear (oh, Maude, the boots, the boots!), the yelping, and the fanny pack full of chicken, Victoria Stilwell basically has us eating out of the palm of her hand.

And, truth be told, we get a little melty-hearted (and one of us has a tendency to blub, but I won't name any names) when Victoria gently, kindly, oh-so-compassionately helps one of the humans to get past that fear, that loss, that hurt, that thing that's preventing them from being the kind of dog owner they need to be. And damn if she isn't as effective a marriage counselor as she is dog trainer!

Anyway, I suspect we're not the only IMOTD obsessives inhabiting Shakesville. I mean, come on—the woman is just too fucking cool.

Can I get an arf, Shakers?

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