This is hard to admit, but I seem to be overwhelmed with the responsibility of caring for several dogs that don’t exist, one of which would belong to a total stranger, if it did exist, which it doesn’t.

A psychiatrist would probably walk away in disgust at such a neurotic display of guilt, but I can’t manage to turn my back on these virtual dogs. How did this happen to me? Facebook is to blame.

A few weeks ago, I got a friend request from someone named Christine, a woman I’d never met. I’d seen her name a few times in the news feeds connected to my nieces and nephews who live on the other side of the country, so her name was vaguely familiar. I don’t get to talk with these relatives very often, so I can’t even claim a connection with Christine as solid as hearing them mention her. When I saw the friend request, my first thought was to accept. She looked harmless and I figured she probably clicked the wrong button and inadvertently invited me. Maybe she had me confused with another family member who she had actually met. I keep my Facebook circle small and non-public, and it wasn’t as if she stumbled in off the street.

Last week my daughter-in-law, Stacey, sent me an invitation to adopt a puppy on Facebook in an application called Pokey. She showed off her own new pet, Edward. Pokey is a promotion for the movie “Marley and Me” and it works like other virtual pet worlds, the pet must be fed, watered, and given affection on a regular basis, or it languishes. I thought it was a cute idea, so I adopted a black lab puppy. I named her Twinkie since she was artificial and sweet. I described Twinkie as “Very well behaved, never chews up my shoes, loves popcorn.”

Each morning when I stop by to care for Twinkie, the status of my friends’ dogs appear on the page. Edward is usually “hungry, thirsty and lonely” only because Stacey is at work and hasn’t gotten time to visit him yet. I decided there was no harm in helping out with Edward since Stacey might not get to him until evening.

Unfortunately, Christine’s dog is there, too. It’s labeled “no name” and has apparently been abandoned in mid-creation. Every day it’s “hungry, thirsty and lonely,” so I began giving it food, water and a few little pats. Yesterday it was listed as “starving, thirsty and very, very lonely.” Now I’m really getting steamed at this Christine character.

Christine probably forgot all about poor, starving no name and left him to die. Subscribers to Pokey can view abandoned and suffering pups and volunteer to help them or simply visit those that are well cared for to give extra love and attention. A few strangers have dropped in to pat Twinkie. If I stop caring for no name I can’t be sure whether anyone else will step up. The pups are extremely cute and lifelike, romping around, displaying lovably familiar puppy mannerisms. Pretty hard to resist, but THREE PUPPIES! That’s a lot of responsibility. Should I write to my niece and suggest she talk to Christine? Maybe turn her over to the SPCA?

Or, better yet, I could seek psychiatric help, because these dogs are nothing but cartoons created by a devilishly clever programmer, designed to ensnare the hearts of delusional old ladies who are one step away from appearing on films at eleven, caught in a raided house with 48 animals in filthy conditions. I can ignore no name! I can ignore Edward! I can ignore Twinkie for that matter! They don’t exist. But they’re so cute…