To paraphrase Dickens, I am an animal lover. You must believe this, if this post is to carry any meaning at all.
Yesterday, my wife was reading an article in a magazine in which a woman wrote an inquiry to an online veterinarian. The woman stated that her guinea pig had lost its appetite and asked if there was something she could do.
The online vet concluded it was a dental problem. He suggested that her guinea pig undergo dental surgery under anesthesia. He further opined that after a full recovery, the woman should continue with follow-up dental treatments to keep the guinea pig’s teeth all the same length to avoid future problems.
Now, I am a huge animal lover. I don’t hurt animals under any circumstances. I am really strange about it. I walk around ants and re-locate spiders in my home. I like dogs better than people. However, at the risk of sounding insensitive, I offer the following advice to the inquiring woman – free of charge:
Lady, get a life. It’s a F’n rat! If you have enough money to put braces on your guinea pig, you might be the real Cavia Porcellus. Give it to the poor! There are no rodent dentists in the wild. The poor creature belongs running free, not in your glass tank!I am aware of the fact that cat psychiatrists in Connecticut make a lot more money than I do, and I am certain they serve some purpose in Nature’s plan. However, in the scheme of things in life, when we search for answers to human problems, perhaps we should study the subordinate, sycophantic plaything-people, who submit to societal puppet masters, giving the money they don’t need to fast-talkers happy to steal it, rather than donate it to those truly needy or worthy charities.
In a nation where our economy is questionable, stories like this sort of piss me off.