I'm sorry, but I don’t care about your pet. I don’t care what a wittle shnuggums your stinky slobbering dog is, I don’t care that your cat does the cutest little thingy with her nosey wosey, I don’t care how funny your lunatic parakeet is when it squawks and says “cheesy peas” every time you enter the room. I don’t care how cute it was as a puppy or a kitten, I don’t care about its fractured pelvis, and I certainly don’t care about its “depression.” Hearing you talk on and on about your stupid pet makes me want to open a Vietnamese restaurant just so I can feed you your own dog and then charge you for it. So you could imagine my excitement at visiting an old college friend who had just had a baby, only to discover that he also had… a huge… golden… retriever.
What little enthusiasm I could already muster for seeing an ugly little newborn baby was totally snuffed out as soon as I rang the doorbell and heard the barking of a large dog. Don’t get me wrong, I love dogs, but they don’t belong pent up in apartments, they don’t belong in cities, and they don’t belong at the ends of leashes being walked around on concrete sidewalks by Filipino maids. They belong in the countryside, roving around, having adventures, herding sheep, hunting rabbits or retrieving dead ducks and stuff like that… in other words, they should be doing what they were BRED for in the first place, instead of being carried around like handbags and used as status symbols or surrogate teddy bears. Anyway, the door opened and I immediately found myself wrestling a big, fat, barking, salivating golden retriever whose tail was wagging so violently I could feel a breeze on my face. My friend, the dog’s owner, acted like his dog was the cutest thing, laughing and saying “Down there, big fella… Isn’t he hilarious?” before kneeling down, grabbing his dog’s head, and having one of those intimate “yes you are, YESH YOU ARE!” moments right in front of me. I don’t even think he said hi to me.
That’s the problem with pet owners: they’re deranged. They believe that just because they think their pet is so cute and important to them, it would be to others as well, much the same way that people who talk about themselves think anybody is actually interested in hearing anyone talk about themselves. That’s why, when we sat down on the couch and I had to keep reluctantly petting this smelly beast that was panting in my face with its dog-food breath, my friend actually didn’t see a miserable person who wishes he had a baseball bat and some ample swinging room. All he saw was his precious little poopykins being a naughty wittle puppy, yes he did, yes he did, YEEESH HE DID! Like I said, they’re all deranged. So I just thought I’d go see his newborn baby and leave as soon as I could.
Fat chance. His wife had already brought out food and tea. In the meantime, this dog started bringing things and putting them at my friend’s feet – a slipper, a ball… I was wondering if it would bring the baby too. It didn’t. “He’s a retriever,” my friend explained, “it’s in his nature to fetch things because he’s a hunting dog.” Gee, really? If you know this to be true, then why is your dog in a carpeted living room chewing your slippers? I refrained from saying this and just asked if I could see the baby, but he just went on about his dog: “He’s been depressed lately, so we’ve been showing extra attention.” My friend was obviously insane. Then he gave me the standard “unrequited love” crap that always comes at some point from the deranged pet owner: “They’re so loyal” and “It’s pure love,” and bleh, bleh, bleh. Guess what, I’d bring your slippers too if you gave me free food. “So, where’s this baby anyway?” I said impatiently. The dog got excited and jumped on me as soon as it saw me get up, humping my leg. My friend just said “No! Bad boy!” but it was still up to me to kick the dog off and then keep pushing it away until it got the message into its retarded animal head.
Finally I saw the baby. Now, I don’t want to be mean, but a newborn baby looks the same as any other. It’s basically just a weird, writhing larva. Kids are cute, fun, and actually distinguishable when they’re 1 or 2 years old, but a newborn baby is basically just a gross little monkey. It doesn’t look like daddy, doesn’t look like mummy, it doesn’t even look human. I of course told them how cute it was and how it looked like both of them, then made some koochie koochie noises, and was ready to leave, when all of a sudden I heard my friend shouting violently. I turned to find that the dog was chewing a pillow to shreds. My friend had lost it. His face was red and the veins on his neck were protruding. He smacked the dog on its head and its ass, shouting obscenities. It was disturbing. The baby started screaming. The wife was confused. I turned and fled.
I haven’t talked to them since, but I’m sure all’s well. A large beast that’s bred to snatch squirming little animals with its vice-like jaws, and a tiny helpless little baby, all in the same small confined space… What could possibly go wrong?
What little enthusiasm I could already muster for seeing an ugly little newborn baby was totally snuffed out as soon as I rang the doorbell and heard the barking of a large dog. Don’t get me wrong, I love dogs, but they don’t belong pent up in apartments, they don’t belong in cities, and they don’t belong at the ends of leashes being walked around on concrete sidewalks by Filipino maids. They belong in the countryside, roving around, having adventures, herding sheep, hunting rabbits or retrieving dead ducks and stuff like that… in other words, they should be doing what they were BRED for in the first place, instead of being carried around like handbags and used as status symbols or surrogate teddy bears. Anyway, the door opened and I immediately found myself wrestling a big, fat, barking, salivating golden retriever whose tail was wagging so violently I could feel a breeze on my face. My friend, the dog’s owner, acted like his dog was the cutest thing, laughing and saying “Down there, big fella… Isn’t he hilarious?” before kneeling down, grabbing his dog’s head, and having one of those intimate “yes you are, YESH YOU ARE!” moments right in front of me. I don’t even think he said hi to me.
That’s the problem with pet owners: they’re deranged. They believe that just because they think their pet is so cute and important to them, it would be to others as well, much the same way that people who talk about themselves think anybody is actually interested in hearing anyone talk about themselves. That’s why, when we sat down on the couch and I had to keep reluctantly petting this smelly beast that was panting in my face with its dog-food breath, my friend actually didn’t see a miserable person who wishes he had a baseball bat and some ample swinging room. All he saw was his precious little poopykins being a naughty wittle puppy, yes he did, yes he did, YEEESH HE DID! Like I said, they’re all deranged. So I just thought I’d go see his newborn baby and leave as soon as I could.
Fat chance. His wife had already brought out food and tea. In the meantime, this dog started bringing things and putting them at my friend’s feet – a slipper, a ball… I was wondering if it would bring the baby too. It didn’t. “He’s a retriever,” my friend explained, “it’s in his nature to fetch things because he’s a hunting dog.” Gee, really? If you know this to be true, then why is your dog in a carpeted living room chewing your slippers? I refrained from saying this and just asked if I could see the baby, but he just went on about his dog: “He’s been depressed lately, so we’ve been showing extra attention.” My friend was obviously insane. Then he gave me the standard “unrequited love” crap that always comes at some point from the deranged pet owner: “They’re so loyal” and “It’s pure love,” and bleh, bleh, bleh. Guess what, I’d bring your slippers too if you gave me free food. “So, where’s this baby anyway?” I said impatiently. The dog got excited and jumped on me as soon as it saw me get up, humping my leg. My friend just said “No! Bad boy!” but it was still up to me to kick the dog off and then keep pushing it away until it got the message into its retarded animal head.
Finally I saw the baby. Now, I don’t want to be mean, but a newborn baby looks the same as any other. It’s basically just a weird, writhing larva. Kids are cute, fun, and actually distinguishable when they’re 1 or 2 years old, but a newborn baby is basically just a gross little monkey. It doesn’t look like daddy, doesn’t look like mummy, it doesn’t even look human. I of course told them how cute it was and how it looked like both of them, then made some koochie koochie noises, and was ready to leave, when all of a sudden I heard my friend shouting violently. I turned to find that the dog was chewing a pillow to shreds. My friend had lost it. His face was red and the veins on his neck were protruding. He smacked the dog on its head and its ass, shouting obscenities. It was disturbing. The baby started screaming. The wife was confused. I turned and fled.
I haven’t talked to them since, but I’m sure all’s well. A large beast that’s bred to snatch squirming little animals with its vice-like jaws, and a tiny helpless little baby, all in the same small confined space… What could possibly go wrong?
