Hi, Pet Lady,
I have read your articles for a couple of weeks, and I don’t get it. Sometimes, your responses have nothing to do with the questions. It’s like you are in the middle of a different conversation. What gives?
DAVE
Dear Mavis,
The Pet Lady hasn’t eaten frog legs in a long time, but they did use to serve them in the dining hall at the Pet Lady’s academy of higher learning (being a Quaker institution, it was coeducational long before coeducation was de rigueur). As far as the Pet Lady can recollect, frog legs have a mild, sweetish taste and a light, meaty texture—a little bit like a nice Cornish game hen. They would probably be lovely with a good Beaujolais or perhaps with a V.S. cognac as a midnight snack.
As for your husband’s persisting in serving them after the tragic microwave accident involving your late amphibian, Calaveras County, perhaps he means it as a comfort? But as the second Mr. Pet Lady so amply demonstrated, it is not the thought that counts.
THE PET LADY
Dear Pet Lady,
I have a scorpion (Scorpio), an iguana (Mr. Big Stuff), and a boa constrictor (Victor). Also two black widow spiders, as yet with no names. I’m starting to think that having all these animals in my studio apartment seems weird, and I’m worried it’s turning off the ladies. I haven’t had much luck lately. They seem to lose interest when I mention my pets. What should I do?
PET-CRAZED
Dear Victor,
The Pet Lady regrets to hear that lawn maintenance workers are disturbing your turtledoves by operating tranquility-shattering leaf blowers at dawn. These contraptions are indeed a scourge of modern urban life—terrifying, generative of toxic fumes, and apparently producing a stupefying effect on said workers. Yet shouting epithets and brandishing firearms from your bedroom window, while possibly therapeutic, is not going to get you far.
You must realize that the fault lies not with the poor downtrodden peasants attached to the leaf blowers but with the land barons of the properties being blown. You might send an anonymous threatening letter to the despotic managers of the offending condominium, or sic the Dobermans on them—as the Pet Lady once had occasion to do with similarly troublesome, tyrannical neighbors. The revolution continues, and best of luck with Romeo and Juliet.
THE PET LADY
It’s cold and flea season. E-mail thepetlady@seattleweekly.com or send a letter sealed with a kiss to: The Pet Lady, c/o Seattle Weekly, 1008 Western, Ste 300, Seattle, WA 98104.
