Don’t pretend you haven’t thought it

[Editor’s Note: Today’s guest post comes to us from Canada.  For you geographically challenged Americans, that’s the big piece of ice right above us.  Today’s author is none other than Ross Murray.  I know!  I’m excited, too!  Wait, what?  Well, if you were Canadian you’d know who he is.

Ross is an extremely hilarious, and published regularly, humor writer.  Honestly, I have no idea why he’d want to post here.  But I’d never turn a professional away from our extremely amateur operation here.

As always, Maphia™, head on over to our guest’s blog after you’re finished reading and click on the almighty follow button.  You know you want to.  And it’s the right thing to do.]

Like every reality show contestant ever, I haven’t come here to make friends. I’ve come here because it’s a safe haven for letting my stormtrooperly darkness shine like Marv Albert’s toupee. I’ve come here because I feel a deep need to discuss a matter that might otherwise shock, offend or traumatically discombobulate regular readers over at my delightfully quirky and always adorable blog, Drinking Tips for Teens (“Come for the Big Jar of Pee, Stay for the Laffs”). It’s a subject so taboo, so controversial that, even here, in this Land O’ Stuph with its speakeasies, brothels and sketchy tattoo parlors, I run the risk of losing followers just by saying what needs to be said, but here goes:

Pets are assholes.

Your dogs, your cats, yes, I’ll say it, even your seemingly innocent exotic fish: assholes.

According to no research and the vaguest of recollections, man first adopted pets as a means of protection against larger, toothier animals. Pets were also put to work as hunters. They could keep you warm at night and, in a pinch, they could be eaten. Hamsters, for example, were first introduced in 1200 BC on Melba toast with sprigs of cilantro and a dollop of sour cream.

In other words, pre-historic pets were perfectly practical, which is alliteration and proves I’m no slouch in the rhetoric department.

Somewhere along the way (I think it was at a gas station near Istanbul), pets became freeloading deadbeats. They became assholes.

Don’t be fooled!

Let me stop you right there: I know you all love your pets, and I’m not trying to diminish that love. Yes, they’re like family. Yes, they offer companionship and unconditional love. Yes, our hearts break when they get sick or die or run away or eat the pork loin that we worked hours to prepare and foolishly left sitting on the counter. But if you can assign human attributes to your pets such as “loyal,” “compassionate,” “smart,” “buxom,” then we need to be prepared to accept that they can also be assholes.

And, yes, I know there are some cases of truly amazing animals who perform selfless and heroic deeds, but the exception proves I’m paying attention.

I also want to make clear that I do not in any way wish harm to befall anyone’s pet. I merely wish untimely hard-drive crashes for Facebook friends who spring horrible photos of animal abuse on me first thing in the morning.

Let us look at the asshole facts:

• Does your pet steal food and spread garbage on the floor? Asshole!
• Does your pet try to trip you as you’re walking down the stairs to feed it? Asshole!
• Does your pet remorselessly kill smaller, defenseless animals for sport? Asshole!
• Does your pet’s amoral behavior result in contracting parasites that you learn the hard way most decidedly are not rice? Asshole!
• When you go out of your way to treat said parasites with medication, does your pet maim you and hiss the word “Motherfucker!” at you? Asshole!
• Does your pet bark at every living soul who walks by your house? Asshole!
• Is that barking pet a cat? Confusing asshole!
• Does your pet just swim around all day contributing nothing to the household except the cost of electricity? Pisci-asshole!
• Does your pet bark at every living soul and when you go to the door to call it in, it just stands there and looks at you at the end of its leash, and you yell, “Come here! Come here! Come HERE!” and it just stares and stares, so you grumble loudly as you slide your cat-pee-stinking boots on to go get it, and as soon as you take one step onto the porch, it comes running up to you? No? Well, mine does. Asshole!
• Does your pet wake you up in the middle of the night with no consideration for the sleep you need in order to come up with brilliant rhetorical flourishes for blog guest-posts? Asshole!
• Humping, leaving hair and feces all over the place, no gainful employment? My brother-in-law; also: asshole pet!

Am I saying all pets are assholes? Of course not, but maybe. What I’m saying is that we should stop perching pets on a pedestal and recognize that they can truly be assholes, the same way some people can truly be assholes. And in regards to the latter, I think I have proven my point.

Thank you. I’ll show myself out.