I’m Getting Off

I am glued to the World Cup soccer matches. The European teams aren’t doing very well this time, giving the Latin Americans a chance to score and move up in the rankings. I’m rooting for Argentina, next is Mexico, and after that I don’t care. Brazil of course, being the host country, is determined to win. Good luck.

Already there’s a scandal about rigged games – I’ve been saying that for years – and now here’s proof. Apparently some of the referees can be bribed in order to give advantage to certain teams.

Is there anything left on the planet that isn’t manipulated?  photo (55)

Our food is full of illness-producing chemicals, but advertised as healthy products.

Our newspapers, media outlets, and radio shows can’t be trusted with accuracy in the news and yet we turn them on every night.

Airlines and car manufacturers are notorious for cutting corners to save a dime, but we’re the first to grab a no-frills discounted ticket.

The medical industry knows of easier ways to cure our illnesses, but suppresses the truth in favor of expensive therapies because they bring in the bucks. Hey, somebody has to pay for those $100 aspirins in the hospital.

Stop! I want to get off and live somewhere else.

When you distill it, it all comes down to making a profit.

Nobody cares about your quality of life, or even if you have a life.

It’s more like where’s your wallet?

Calvin says, “Don’t get me started about our dog food. Have you ever wondered why vet practices are always full? The pet food industry owns them!”

 

 

 

Is Your Dog A Relative?

We live in a pet-centric world. For $50,000 dollars you can clone Buster so he’ll keep coming back to you. That’s probably the only way he’ll come back to you, because he’s figured out how to ignore you and turn a deaf ear to your commands.

Have you noticed the progression we’ve taken as a society with our pets?

They started out in the backyard. Some of them were actually working dogs. They earned their bowl of scraps herding sheep or cows. Or went hunting for birds with you.

Then they migrated to the back porch. Still looking in, but getting closer.

Eventually your wife gave in to Roxie’s begging eyes and let her inside your kitchen, then your bedroom was next, and now she’s sleeping on your bed.

The veterinary industry is keenly aware of this trend and has marketed it to the hilt.

Dogs and cats are not animals anymore. They’re hairy people. And because they’re relatives with fur, you’ll spend your last dollar on them. The vets are counting on it.

If Buster needs an MRI or a hip replacement, you’re made to feel guilty if you say no.

What about teeth cleaning, pedicures and doggie furdos? Any conscientious owner would of course make regular appointments for these. If you don’t, you’re the beast, not Tabitha, the cat.

I’m convinced this ridiculousness began with the pet food industry. They convinced us our animals should not eat human food because it’s bad for them, so as a substitute they produced good, wholesome, nutritionally well-balanced sawdust with flavorings. If last night’s leftovers are not safe for our pooches, then why are we eating them?

The more advanced we are in the medical industry, the more these tests trickle down to our vets to use on our animals. What’s good for Fred is good for Fido, too.

And of course since Fred now can live to be 100, he wants Fido by his side, too – at a spry 700 years old.

Calvin says, “Ouch! A little too close to home. Of course I want to carry on sniffing and peeing and chasing rabbits. Don’t you?”