And now for a heartwarming story.
One about a dog whose heart (and every other organ) was almost over-warmed to the point of going night-night fur-ever, when his owner left him roasting in an oven on wheels. A Desert Storm army vet turned into a twice-over hero when he broke the glass and rescued the poor panting pup from a hotboxed vehicle. The critter’d been left with no water whatsoever and had basically resorted to unhinging his jaw like a Canadian South Park character in order to accommodate a sufficient aperture for panting and a tongue that’d transmogrified to just about the size of the poor fckker himself:
The owner? Pressed charges.
His reply? #NoRegrets.
I still don’t get why dog owners do this shiz. Are there that many sociopaths out there? Like, even if your pet wasn’t gonna die – which they are – do you realize how ridiculously uncomfortable that is? What if – the second you came back to your car – your dog could suddenly speak? (“Jesus Christ, WTF were you thinking, Mary? That was hell. Lit.Er.Al HELL.This is the kinda shit – THIS is why you’re single. You don’t care about anyone but yourself. I’m sick of hearing you say you’re a ‘dog lady’. You’re not a dog-lady or a cat-lady. You’re just a selfish piece of shit bitch. And I should know, I’m one – literally. But that’s why I don’t have a dog of my own. At least I realize I can’t handle it. Plus, you spayed me. Anyway, I digress. Please go give that veteran my number, stat. He could probably use a service dog. And I owe him huge. Also: I hope you die in a giant karmic car fire on the way home.”)
Now, if you’re reading this and you happen to be a selfish bitch, don’t worry. I believe in people and I believe they can change. Maybe you’re too lazy to just take the poor bastard back home or are afraid he’ll tear your house apart. I understand. So here are your options: A.) Do it anyway B.) Don’t have a dog C.) Invest in some QT with Cesar Milan so your dog can stay at home comfortably. D.) Just sneak his ass inside. With that size, are you kidding me? That thing could fit inside one of those micro pockets (whose function otherwise is a mystery to me) that’re inside the actual pockets of my jeans.
I get that it’s only spring and it’s not meant to be 90 degrees outside yet, but a helping of humid injustice dealt from the heavens doesn’t change reality. And the reality of the matter is your mutt’s going to die if you leave him in your ride on a hot day. 60 degree weather? Fine. No problem. (Unless some sort of mutant solar flare comes down while you’re dropping off your mail or buying more trinkets for your hoarding collection). But, beyond that, even five minutes – yes, even five – can do some serious irreparable damage to your dog. And that’s not speculation, but actual research. In fact, that was something I just learned last year myself – that their viscera get nuked from intense heat exposure. Not that I would’ve left Minnie in a hot car for any amount of time.
So, what’s the solution here? Beyond my rant?
Well, you could tell that cop didn’t wanna charge the poor dude. So… I move for a law alteration.
Anyone else feel like a roasting Rover B ‘n E should be legalized?