Spring equinox with its balanced periods of darkness and light is a perilous time for the Ram, who prefers to mood-swing from yin to yang, Bartles to Jaymes, and feit to counterfeit. So if there's too much Joel Gray in your astral brew, reinforce with infusions of Camille Paglia; too much Wayne Newton, unleaven with tincture of Al Gore.
There's Trouble in The Dog Whisperer's Paradise
Jan 5, 2010, 13:18
LOS ANGELES, Calif. - Who doesn't love Cesar Millan? The munchkin figure, the sun-god smile, the cute, spikey hair, those preternaturally white teeth, that funny ogg-sent. He trains people; he rehabilitates dogs; he's stinking rich; he's the dog whisperer. Who doesn't love him?
As it turns out, a few of his own dogs aren't exactly big fans of The Dog Whisperer; so says animal communicator Laura Bivens, who has "spoken at length" to several members of Cesar's pack.
"I've been communicating a lot here lately with one of Cesar's dogs," said Ms. Bivens. "We'll call him Frenchie to protect his identy. What Frenchie told me was surprising."
Ms. Bivens agreed to share part of her Frenchie interview with Postcards from the Pug Bus.
LB: So, Frenchie, what's it like living with a celebrity dog trainer?
F: It's better than a prolapsed rectum, I suppose.
LB: What do you mean?
F: Listen, lady, how would you like to live in a gulag with twenty or thirty other dogs? Is that your idea of a good home? The only time we see The Whisperer is when there's a camera crew dancing around him like flies on dog shit. Otherwise we just hang around all day hoping he doesn't bring another one of those retarded dogs "home" to stay with us at his so-called "dog psychology center."
LB: Why do you say "so-called"?
F: Gimme a break. The dog psychology center is nothing more than a bunch of bored dogs hanging around in a parking lot in an industrial complex that gets really scary after dark. Dog prison is more like it. As for The Whisperer, he's about as much an animal psychologist as Ashlee Simpson is a singer. That guy's nothing more than a glorified animal collector. He needs to spend some time with a personality assessment and a number 2 pencil.
LB: You make it sound like the center isn't a lot of fun.
F: Fun? What's fun about a concrete lawn? What's fun about hauling Cesar's porky ass around on rollerblades? Or having to put up with those retarded dogs Cesar keeps bringing around here? I'd like to know what he charges people for those visits.
Spring equinox with its balanced periods of darkness and light is a perilous time for the Ram, who prefers to mood-swing from yin to yang, Bartles to Jaymes, and feit to counterfeit. So if there's too much Joel Gray in your astral brew, reinforce with infusions of Camille Paglia; too much Wayne Newton, unleaven with tincture of Al Gore.
Strike a blow for freedom. Download music today.
