Don't Be Cruel; Systematically Slaughter Animals Instead

I like both Georgia and Boo lots by the way.

So I was sitting there, right, and there’s this little dog. I don’t know what type of dog it is, it’s like a little Cesar dog or whatever. I’ll look it up. SPECIALLY DESIGNED FOR SMALL DOGS. No. Yes. Would you like CesarSingapore to be your default Cesar destination? © 2012 Mars, Incorporated and its ...

Yeah it’s a Cesar dog. It’s called Boo and it’s often in Instagrammed pictures with accompanying irrelevant hashtags #like #this that you can see #here. #skyscraper #dreamdog

If you know me, then you’ll know I quite like dogs. I like making them wear high-viz security jackets. I like putting them on cushions and carrying them around. I like turning them upside down. I like rubbing their gums and flapping their lips over so their teeth stick out and they look funny. I like them so much I volunteered in a dogs’ home for a while and I used to have one wot I put glasses on too.

Anyway, so I’m sitting there, right, and there’s this little dog. It’s a Cesar dog. I know it, because it walks around blankly sometimes in the office where I work. I’m in the pub with like ten people and this dog. It looks around vacantly as it’s gradually passed around the table, caring not as it is shuffled along the laps of my colleagues amidst the incomprehensible conversation of humans.

When I flick its ears inside out, I’m greeted with exclamations of cruelty and requests for mercy. Boo just looks on, dead behind the eyes. It hasn’t even noticed, bless it. Later, it’s my turn with the dog. I pet it and stroke it and that, but it barely even responds. There’s just nothing to it. I keep stroking it and trying to excite it or provoke any sort of reaction, like you get with most dogs when you make a high-pitched noise or whatever. Nothing.

Everyone’s lost in conversation, so it’s just me and Boo. We make eye contact. For the first time, I think I truly connect with the beast. Those cold black beads in its face glimmer with a faint glimmer of intelligence. I buy it. It wants me to do something. I want it to do something. We look at each other, stranded in semiotics, seeking understanding. We are one.

Moments pass.

Then it hits me. I know what I have to do. Boo has shown me the light.

I pick it up, arms outstretched and thrust her into the air in the way Rafiki did to Simba back in 1994. I bellow: Ahhhhhhhhhh Sebenya etc

Cue riotous response from the gang and Boo being ‘rescued’ from my clasp. Then follows a series of personal attacks at my cruelty and collective mockery of my claims that it wasn’t cruel. The group continue to awww and ahhhh at Boo and say that they hate seeing that sort of thing.

Boo doesn’t understand or care.

Apart from me, the only other person laughing at the table is the other vegetarian. She’s got a dog too.

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