We make great pets (We make great pets)

I’ve never understood why, when talking to people about our pets, we feel the need to correct them on the sex of the pet. I’ve done it myself. “What’s her name?” they ask. “It’s a HE!” I retort. Who gives a shit? It’s a whole different species of thing. Male/Female is as consequential as Black/White (w/spots). It’s not like when someone corrects me after I refer to their German Shepard as a male I’m thinking I’m going to fall in love with the thing and take it on trips with me to Ibiza, get high on E, make some crazy life choices and end up having sex with a dog. In fact, if you’re the type that’s going to fuck an animal, chances are you’re not the type to have qualms about gender tendencies and the etiquette of insertion.

I, here-on-out, don’t give a shit if someone refers to my pets as a him or her. As long as they get the species right, that’s fine. Some clown comes in calling the cats zebras, he’s hitting the bricks regardless.