Veteran gossip Cindy Adams has always been known as somewhat of a dog-obsessed eccentric. But now, she's outdone even herself, penning an entire column extolling the virtues of her Yorkies, (Juicy and Jazzy Jr.'s) "snugability," which we've excerpted for your reading/snickering pleasure:

My Juicy is 4. My Jazzy Jr. is 3. Juicy, a girl, is 31/2 pounds. The boy, my huge, killer attack dog Jazzy, is 41/2 pounds. Trust me, Yorkies leave paw prints on your heart.

Why? What's so great about a Yorkie?

First of all, barring minor limitations, a pooch is the same as a husband. An animal is an animal. True, Rover can't go half on rent or fix a light bulb. Also certain accommodations are best handled by, let's say, a great Italian - forget a Great Dane. And your furry creature - the four-legged one - can't zip your dress up the back. So move into a doorman building, find a neighbor or buy two-piece outfits and this problem's solved.

Cindy then goes on to explain why a Yorkie is the best type of replacement-husband, noting that they are portable, snuggable, lovable and they never shed…coincidentally, all the qualities we're looking for in a canine boyfriend!

But here's our favorite part:

Of course, like anything with the name "York," they're tough. A little demanding. I mean, Juicy is 31/2 pounds of pure selfish. She owns nine of my 10 rooms. But she's very New York. She loves The Post. Almost every night, I find her poring over my column.

Yep, just as we suspected. Cindy Adams has finally crossed over from quirky to just plain batshit insane. And in the process, her column has truly gone to the dogs.