My response to this is "Screw you." I have lived with dogs all my life, and as much as I have bought into the ridiculous American notion of "they're part of the family," I have absolutely had it with anyone calling their dogs their children. Here's a helpful strategy for identifying members of the family. In a zombie apocalypse, would you eat them to survive? If the answer is "yes" (AND IT IS FOR YOUR DOGS, PERIOD.) then they are not members of the family. I love my beagle. She's great. But if the fit hits the shan and we live in a world ruled by the undead hordes, you best believe I'm having me some rack of Beebs. And a Pabst. Isaac on the other hand, I would starve myself to ensure his eating. That's a big ass difference from the dog. And that is also the only correct viewpoint to have. If you find yourself feeling any differently about this fundamental difference between your real kids and your FREAKING PETS, you are simply wrong.
Also, my very real fear of the zombie apocalypse is why I really want out of NYC. No joke.
And then there's those of us who have spent more of our lives alone than with others and the dog is the only constant companion we have. No wife, no kids, no nuthin'. So "simply wrong" or not, I would starve before letting any harm come to my dog. If I was forced to eat her, I'd most likely use any zombie-killin' bullets I had on hand to blow my fricking brains out in grief over what I'd just done. You speak as one who has a family. Not all of us are so lucky.
ReplyDeleteDude, you have all sorts of people who care deeply about you. That's family.
ReplyDeleteBe grateful that the zombie hordes didn't hit while you were a kid. Of course Chugs and Kizzy would have been in danger, Stinker would have been the last resort. Of course there were other human choices that would have gone first, and would have provided food for a very long time.
ReplyDeleteYeah, but Tim probably wasn't tasty.
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