Puppy Yuppy

Traci and I are are puppy yuppies: young urban professionals who treat their dogs like kids. I've come to terms with the idea that as a music teacher and an an attorney who enjoy traveling, trying new restaurants, recycling, and supporting Barack Obama, that we are yuppies. The fact that I'm also a beer/music/movie snob (and a foodie) clinches it. We also like way too many items on the "stuff white people like" list. I wouldn't mind, but yuppies once had a negative connotation of greed and materialism, not to mention a certain political disposition. The new yuppies, on the other hand, are socially and environmentally conscious. In light of the updated definition, we've come to accept our yuppiness.
As for the "puppy", we treat our 2 dogs, Schubert and Puccini, like children. They sleep with us at night, I carry on conversations with them, and Traci sings to them. They get excited every evening when the garage door opens and I say, "Mommy's home!" They also like to go to Grandma and Grandpa's (and don't forget their dog, aunt Angel). I feel sorry for unsuspecting visitors who approach the house, hearing barking and yapping, seeing a head bounce in and out of view of the window in the front door. They will soon be attacked by a flurry of leaping dogs with wagging tails and furious tongues. They've entered the house of a couple of puppy yuppies.
But now I've got to go. Traci and I are going out for sushi, then back home to watch a documentary from Netflix with dogs in our laps.