Shoutout to the Pig

Right now I should really be studying for finals, or cleaning since this house is starting to look like squatters have taken over instead of my usually pristine home (Okay, only sometimes pristine home but totally the fault of my unbelievably disorganized spouse and NOT me). Instead of doing either of those things, because procrastination is my best and longest existing friend, I have decided to dedicate a post to my obese dog. I recently realized in my “About Me” section I had promised unfulfilled rants about her and not delivered. So here it goes:

We got our food obsessed canine in March of last year. She was just this fat, tiny American Bully puppy
with blue colored fur and blue eyes. She had an explosive shit in my car on the drive from her breeder’s
home to ours, and in that moment I should have realized what our relationship would become. Originally her name was Elsa, but my husband was not interested in a lifetime of yelling the loved Disney Princess’s name to his overly expensive dog. So we settled on the name of a constellation- Lyra (totally googled constellations, please don’t give either of us credit for being some kick ass astronomers, we are 100% not). In no time at all we realized her name was going to have to be changed to Piggy.

Piggy got her nickname originally from her incessant snoring that would put elderly men with sleep apnea to shame. My husband believes it is the fault of her nose being runny (totally never runny by the way) while I realize it is from all the lard she hoards from binge eating every chance she gets. Piggy also gets her nickname because she thinks she’s a slick food thief. Keyword here is thinks, in reality every time I notice food gone from the table I know it’s our resident food addict and she promptly goes to doggy jail. But this bitch loves food way too much, so no consequence will ever have an impact on her. My husband and I always like to ask her “who do you love more? Mommy? Daddy?” And we always answer for her (because she’s a dog and therefore only speaks volumes with her eyes) “Nooo, you love food the most, but Daddy comes second.”

Our Pig hates running, and will literally lay down in the grass in an attempt to avoid exercise if you take her for a walk. When she’s in heat she eats my shoes, specifically my favorite ones (how she knows they are my favorite is beyond me but I am convinced it is all a conspiracy). She will literally devour almost anything, including all the fruit in my fruit bowl except for the kiwi. Apparently she draws the line at having hairy skins in her mouth, but went to town on some fucking grapes. Pig is legit hungry all the time, she is needy, territorial, and dominant over our other dog, but a total pussy when it comes to the cat.

Since my husband views this dog as his daughter, I find her the most annoying of all the pets. How he can choose the completely disobedient dog over our other incredibly well-trained, nervous mess dog is beyond me. So I get more upset with the obese dog because she needs some sort of discipline and my husband is incapable of providing it. Even though I have spent the majority of this post being cranky and annoyed at Piggy, I would not change having her in my life for anything. Even when she destroyed my most treasured leather gladiator sandals, I only considered canicide for a few minutes. She is a loving creature, who let me cry on her when my husband visited India this past January. When I am in my dark place she loves to lick my ears to comfort me. She loves me even when I am pissed and an asshole, which is often since I’m continually stressed. I am not sure what I would do if I was not able to witness her guilty butt shake every day (it’s how I know she’s eaten my salad when I’ve gone to the bathroom, or chewed the hands off another one of my kid’s toys). She is the adorably roll-y, and kind of dumb, dog that glues our family together. She will always break up a disagreement, or a moment of sadness, by farting loudly until we reluctantly fall into laughter.

I’m not sure if this constitutes a rant about my obese dog, but hopefully it gives my readers a reference point for when I do give a full-fledged one. Don’t worry, it’ll come. Rants are my hobby, and Piggy is the most likely creature to bring one about. For now though, I’ll probably end up loving on her until we fall asleep (and probably give her a treat since I am an enabler). Piggy is my least likely rock, but also the one I know I can lean the full weight of my pain on without fear of abandonment. Animals are unbelievable, especially dogs named Pig.