Ms Fur Babies

After completing 3 months of “adulting” Grace takes the plunge and becomes a “fur-mother” – a far easier option than trying to find a mate who could tolerate her long enough to complete the act of procreation.

All the warning signs were there. Her Instagram became a cringey shrine to her “fur babies” and she began losing the battle over reality as she started raising the pups as if they were literally human.

A short-lived relationship went down in flames after the bloke questioned whether two large dogs really needed to sleep on the bed. “Oh my god, would you make your children sleep outside or in the laundry?” No Grace, but he probably wouldn’t fuck in front of them either. 

Like DMX at a bail hearing Grace constantly wondered where her dogs were at. She couldn’t even enjoy her quarter strength soy kombuchacino without pining over her hounds, “aw it breaks my heart thinking about my widdle baby doggos at home awone”.

Get a grip woman, they are enjoying an all you can lick ball buffet in between leisurely snoozes and not being forced to wear t-shirts for her Instagram. They’re cool Grace. They’re dogs. Nevertheless, Grace never wants to go through that kind of separation anxiety again.

If it was good for the goose, it was good for the gander and Grace started bringing her two dogs everywhere. No one minded down at South Freo cafes but shit got pretty hectic when an inner-city bar that told her dogs were not permitted. 

The manager explained that while he too loved dogs, there was a time and a place for them and a busy bar that served food wasn’t ideal. Again, like DMX, Grace was about to lose her mind up in here and began rambling psychotically about equal opportunity and discrimination. They’re dogs, Grace, for fuck’s sake. 

After a second Friday arvo hot spot turned her away she cried uncontrollably while sharing a falafel with her fur babies. Bite for bite. Her friends tried to stem the meltdown by suggesting she drop her dogs back home and come out. Not fucking likely, champo. 

Instead, she spends her evening typing in pure caps locked crazy about “justice for her pups”. She wants the bar managers heads on spikes, repeals to the Discrimination Act and an end to the inter-species Apartheid hell she had just endured. 

Her dogs ride at the front of the bus bitch. Oh yeh, that “incident”, watch out Transperth because once again, like DMX, Grace gone give it to ya.

Documenting the Human Zoo is thirsty work, so if you enjoyed what you read how about buying Belle a beer, ay?