(By the way, main author: Yahtzee? Really? You’re running out of good ideas. Except for me. I was a great idea.)
This week, I’ll be expressing my disinterest in any pets that you may own. I hope you’re ready. Actually, I don’t.
Your pets are loud, smelly, aggressive, and only you could possibly love that animal. I’m sure they are all nice and friendly around you and nothing but rainbows and happy slobber, but around me? They’re awful. Don’t get me wrong, I have pets of my own, and I love them very much. But I could give a crap about yours.
Your dog humps my body parts and pounces me like a back-alley mugger as soon as I enter your home. Your cat scratches, bites, pukes, and acts with indifference when I’m around it. Your hamster sits there fixedly, making me feel unworthy of even a little attention. Your turtle, well, same as your hamster. Your snake is just creepy, and I’m not sure why you own one, except to find it “escaped” when your friends come to visit.
Your fish smell like they were just harvested from an algae-polluted bay, your rodent of choice squeaks and scratches and makes noises much too obscene for me to describe (works better if more than 1 rodent is involved). Your cows, pigs, sheep, chickens, and goats are off-putting; I’d hate to think that Miss Moo will be making a guest appearance either in your morning coffee or as the main dish on your dinner table.
In fact, who gave you license to name your pet so stupidly? Mr. Poodledimpkin Roofenshlimer Hectar Doodlewitz the Fourth? WHY? Many pets won’t come when you call them anyway, so don’t waste names that you would be embarrassed to say out loud with your friends in the room on the ones that will.
Your pets keep me up at night with their odors and sounds of rampage. They hide in the dark in the places where I’m sure to trip or step on them. They eat my clothes (and possibly homework, as the old adage goes). They intimidate, embarrass, or annoy me.
But I’m sure they love you ALL of the time. Dawww..c’mere, lil’ Poodledimpkin Roofen- screw it.
Your pets will die eventually (sorry, truth hurts), but please, you should spend time with them. Not me. YOU. YOU keep them away from ME.
I know what jeers I’ll get for this: Hiss! Woof! Bark! Slither!