A Girl’s Best Friend

Normally, these sorts of stories go right into the “Who Gives A Shit” file.

To recap, Ellen DeGeneres adopted a dog from some sort of rescue operation.  Being it the Litigious State of California, she signed a bunch of papers with the do’s and don’ts of dog ownership outlined.  The dog didn’t get along well with her cats.  The dog got handed off to the hairdresser’s family.  Dog rescuers became aware of this possible danger to the dog and showed up at the hairdresser’s house demanding the dog back.  Ellen goes on television sobbing like a mother without tits.  Dog rescuers get death threats from Ellen’s fans.  Hilarity ensued.

That about cover everything?

Here’s what I want to know, if someone showed up at your door claiming to be from Puppy Liberation Front, or whatever the fuck sanctimonious Gladys Kravitz pet shop they claim to be from, and said you had to give up the dog that your children had bonded with, because  they had a piece of paper signed by a talk show host, what would you do?

I don’t know what kind of sheep the people of California have become, but at Casa Sarcastro you aren’t getting a damn thing without a warrant or a bigger gun.   If you think you can show up at our door and waive some Word document in order to take one of our family pets without needing medical attention, you are welcome to try.

Except for maybe this goddamn kitten.  You can have him.  His cute and rambunctious behavior is no longer cute at 2 a.m. when he is sitting on my forehead purring and digging his claws into my scalp.

On the other side of the celebrity/canine spectrum, how much must it suck to be Randi Rhodes dog?  First, the poor pooch has to bear mute witness to Randi’s indiscretions and dissembling.  Second, other Barney Gumbles in the bar mistaking the dog for Randi’s twin sister when making lurid suggestions concerning the three of them “go back to my place”.

Poor doggie.