The Rittenhouse Review

A Philadelphia Journal of Politics, Finance, Ethics, and Culture

Monday, December 15, 2003  


Late this afternoon the newly established Mildred Pierce Fat/Beautiful Scorekeeper -- an unscientific montior of public perception (or projection) with respect to my English bulldog, Chadwin VII’s Mildred Pierce, better known as Mildred -- picked up two more entirely unsolicited votes in the “Fat” column.

Middle-Aged Man Speaking with Building Doorman (To Mildred): Girl, could you get any fatter?

Me (in a defensive tone): She’s not fat. She’s a bulldog. That’s what she’s supposed to look like*.

Second Middle-Aged Man Speaking with Building Doorman (patronizingly): She’s not fat. She’s big-boned.

Me: Heh. Yep. Big-boned. Her shoulders are broader than yours, pal.

Middle-Aged Man Speaking with Building Doorman (To Mildred): How `bout a walk around the block? You could use it!

Me: How `bout hittin’ the StairMaster, buddy? Come on, Mildred, let’s go upstairs and have a snack. It’s like loser-ville down here.

In case you couldn’t tell, I’m getting really pissed off by this crap.

(* See especially, “Size, Proportion, Symmetry”: “Influence of Sex In comparison of specimens of different sex, due allowance should be made in favor of the bitches, which do not bear the characteristics of the breed to the same degree of perfection and grandeur as do the dogs.”)

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