My Spirit Animal Is a Pomeranian

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I had a big day out this past Saturday, so I treated myself to a big night in with popcorn and a movie from Amazon. (Side note: How awesome is it that we can rent movies without even leaving the house? It seems like not that long ago I stalked the video store in my hometown like a poacher hunting rhinos, waiting for someone to return "A Few Good Men" so I could rent it for the umpteenth time.)

Back to my story.

Because I'm 100 years old and still recovering from the horror that is "Manchester by the Sea," I rented "The Secret Life of Pets." In those glorious 90ish minutes, I found my spirit animal: Gidget, the Pomeranian. 

You're probably thinking, "Hey, I know you in real life, and you're not small and you're not fluffy." But that's not why I think she's my spirit animal. For starters, she's perky. She's got spunk. She's tiny but she doesn't let big obstacles get in her way. She talks really fast. Plus, she's adorable. Even if I stopped right there, she'd still be me in dog form, Canis Loseafattius.

But it gets better. She's also a drama queen. She watches telenovelas and talks to the television. (The joy of living alone? No one knows what happens when I watch "Jane the Virgin"or "Family Feud.") She carries a ridiculous, unrequited crush for the dog across the street and convinces herself that she's his girlfriend. She makes a fool out of herself to get his attention. 

Sounding more and more familiar, right?

But now the similarities get downright scary. Gidget's a pooch with a long-ass fuse, but you don't want to piss that (literal) bitch off. Whew. She is MERCILESS! Slapping cats and ninja-ing the shit out every stray dog in New York City. But she's also fiercely loyal to her friends. She's a helper and a leader. 

Just don't make her (or me) mad. Or this will happen.



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