Category — We Love Animals

Emaciated Lady adopted a great dane “puppy” just days before my visit. Puppy my ass. This is the monstrosity that Skinny Man and I were greeted with upon entering her home:

A normal person might be intimidated by the size of this creature. But I’m less intimidated than I am hungry. To me, he looks like a giant Oreo blizzard. So if anyone should be afraid, it’s him.

My fat cat was consuming her breakfast with such urgency this morning that before she could even finish, she vomited it back up in her bowl. Where she would pick up such unseemly behavior is another story (on which I have no comment, thank you very much).

My coworker friend REFUSES to believe that I’m hiding fat under my clothes. We were having a heated discussion after I mentioned needing a girdle Spanx, and just as I was about to to strip down naked to prove my point, she compared me to my impossibly svelte Italian Greyhound. Now I could have been offended that she was comparing me to a dog, but I was actually rather flattered. At a barely there 8 lbs, with long stick-like legs and a waist any woman would die for, my dog is one of the few creatures I’m happy to be compared to. So thank you, coworker friend. I can now  forgive you for that egg nog latte.

There have been several occasions in my life when I wished more than anything to have a camera permanently fixed around my neck like a tourist. Like this one time when I saw Darth Vader and Princess Leia sharing a burrito at Roberto’s. Or this other time, when I watched a mother put a leash on her kid and then hold her dog in her arms.

Yesterday, I think I witnessed what was the most shocking thing of all (Extra Large Man can vouch for me since I obviously didn’t have a camera) – a completely “normal” woman wearing gym attire was power walking with her tiny weiner dog AND HER PET PARAKEET. She was casually holding the stick her parakeet was perched on as they crossed the street on their way to the beach as though it were the MOST NATURAL ACT IN THE WORLD.

I applaud this women for her attempt to make herself and her animals skinny.

My boss heard a violent growl from my stomach yesterday and later described it to some of my coworkers as sounding “like some kind of zoo animal.” I was mortified, and I wanted to say it sounds like a zoo animal because my hunger is a fucking caged beast.

As you can imagine, this new campaign has been the source of a lot of controversy among the obese.

I’ll do almost anything for the love of animals, including eat. So last night my husband and I went to California Pizza Kitchen, which for one day only offered to donate 20% of your check to a local animal shelter. Now I know some hardcore anorexics might ask, “Why not just donate the cash directly and thereby avoid the food situation altogether?” In fact, I asked this of myself. But I have several good reasons for eating for charity. One, it’s more fun. Two, my husband needs to eat and it’s not fair for me to deprive him. Three, I’M FUCKING STARVING and one meal isn’t going to kill me. At least that’s what my therapists have told me.

From the outside my neighborhood looks as swell as any other suburban paradise. We have palm trees, a community pool and even tennis courts. It seemed so blissful when Extra Large Man and I moved in three years ago. If only we knew what fuckers our neighbors are. All of them are pitted against each other in a dog poop war.

It started when we received our first notice from the HOA asking that we please refrain from allowing our dogs to eliminate on the grassy knolls within the complex. For the most part, everyone is pretty good about it. But over the last couple of years, I’ve come home to a pile of dog shit that could have only come from the giant Doberman that lives a few houses down or maybe from the golden retriever that lives across the street. My point is that EVERYONE’S dog poops on EVERYONE’s lawn and they only pick it up 76 percent of the time, which isn’t the biggest deal in the world. Unfortunately, we have some animal haters and I’ve been yelled at on occasion as my innocent little Lily squatted where she wasn’t supposed to.

Well, a couple of months ago I come home to four pieces of dung laid out horizontally in my front walkway. The pieces were strategically placed so there was little chance I wouldn’t step in it. I honestly refused to believe that a suburban neighbor would leave shit on my doorstep, so I figured someone’s idiot dog preferred my walkway to the grass. This happened two more times, but I still couldn’t fathom the reality of the situation. But last night, I exploded when I was once again greeted by a trail of dog poop leading up to my front door.

I suspect that our new next-door neighbors have stepped in dog shit on our shared lawn and just assumed it was our dogs. To teach us a lesson, they moved the shit to our doorstep. If I ever catch one of these fuckers in action, I will actually strangle them. In the meantime, I’m writing a letter to the Homeowner’s Association demanding that this dog poop war be brought up at the next community meeting. Does anyone want to draft the letter for me?