Okay, so I know this is going to sound a little unhinged… but I think my dog might be my soulmate and lover.

There. I said it. And no, I haven’t totally lost the plot (yet). I just genuinely think we’ve all been sleeping on the real great loves of our lives: our pets.

I mean, think about it. He greets me at the door with uncontainable joy. He’s obsessed with me but never jealous. He never complains when I hog the sheets in bed. He doesn’t cheat, lie, ghost, or emotionally withdraw. And he listens to me yap on about my day with those big, dopey, unconditional-love eyes. More importantly, he’s comfortable watching me pleasure myself when I’m bored on a Sunday morning. Not jealous, just curious and supportive. Frankly, it’s more emotional support than I got from most of my exes combined, including the grossly supportive beta guys (mostly journalists by the way, ewww).

And don’t even get me started on his Instagram game—every time I post a selfie with him naked, my DMs flood with, “Who’s the handsome lad?” (Answer: the only man who hasn’t let me down this year.)

So when I saw that the Australian government is officially updating the law to say “pets” aren’t just property anymore, I let out a little “heck yes!” in my kitchen while feeding him his gourmet kangaroo bites and fondling his hind quarters. About time, honestly. Recognizing his status as a human being and lover is well overdue.

This new law means our furry little boyfriends are finally getting the respect they deserve in family law. They’re not a blender or a side table—they’re life partners with full legal status. They’re consorts and bedfellows. They’re sometimes the only reason I don’t go full Britney circa 2007.

And look, I know I sound like that girl who shows up to brunch in activewear with a Chihuahua ... but I don’t care. My dog's name is Charlie, he’s a Cavoodle, and I genuinely prefer his company to 99% of the men I’ve met on Hinge, and he’s way better in bed.

Do I fantasise about a world where we could legalise pet partnerships? Maybe. Would I wear a white dress and let him walk me down the aisle? Look, I’m not saying yes... but I’m not saying no either. Well, maybe not white if you know what I mean. We’re keeping it casual for the time being, but maybe one day, when we’re both ready - absolutely.

The truth is, so-called “pets” are people. The good kind. The loyal kind. The "don’t leave their dirty socks in the lounge" kind. Always ready to romp around on the bed and have some discreet fun. And while I’m not rushing to put a ring on it (relax, Internet), I do think we need to take a long, hard look at the kind of physical fulfilment we’re chasing—because it might be lying right next to you, snoring with its little paws twitching.

Some people might say I’m intimidated by real men, and that I should get over my puerile fancy lunches at Icebergs with the girls (also deeply committed to their canines by the way, so many girls in the eastern suburbs of Sydney these days prefer dogs) and saddle up for an adult relationship. I just laugh and say my dog is so much easier.

So to all the Charlie’s out there—four-legged, fluffy, and full of heart—you’re more than just an animal. You’re a partner. You’re a lover. You’re a boyfriend in a fur coat.

And if anyone ever tries to call you a "piece of property" again, just know this girl will fight them in court and win—preferably with matching outfits and full custody. One day we’ll change those other laws as well, so we can be together without judgment or legal sanction.