I like animals…I really do. Okay, I like MOST animals. Let me break this down.
I like dogs.
After I saw happy feet, I decided I also liked penguins, (Tap dancing penguins get brownie points).
And, after living in Australia, I can also roll with Koalas…
Generally, I don’t like animals that are trying to kill me. I think the world would be a better place if sharks
died umm…cough…didn’t exist. (Yeah, I said it. All of you “Shark Week” fanatics, I’m talking to you. You’re all ca-ray-zee). I saw Jaws when I was six, and it was honestly worse than watching paranormal activity as a twenty-three year old. It was the worst movie experience of my life.
While not as aesthetically terrifying as sharks, I’m also severely allergic to horses, in a throat closes, eyes swell shut, heart stops beating , turn into a zombie kind of way. Sorry Seabiscut and Black Beauty, and we might as well throw in half man/half horse Centaurs and even Unicorns. Considering the only thing that binds us is the epi-pen I’d have to jab into my leg if we rode into the sunset together, it’s safe to say, we’re not buds. Other than that, as long as your cat isn’t rubbing its butt on me, and your bird isn’t pooping on me or trying to peck my eyeballs out, I can deal with most animals…but…
THERE IS SOMETHING LIVING UNDER MY SINK.
Maybe this is all very “first world problems” of me, complaining that the T-Rex from Jurassic park escaped filming and has lodged its head through the garage ceiling underneath my sink, but when I first heard this at 3:00 in the morning, I couldn’t help thinking someone was breaking into our apartment to steal our brand new crock pot. It’s not IN the cupboard under my sink…I’ve checked…thoroughly…(it’s also not actually a T-Rex *durr durr durrr*). It’s
viciously attacking me trapped between the ceiling of our garage and the floor underneath my kitchen sink.
Not impressed, critter, not impressed.
Anyone want to take a guess? Because as of now I’m going with T-Rex or Shark.