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| Cruella de Vil is my neighbor. |
My own Instagram account has 33 photographs on it. Whenever I post a new one -- something I consider to be beautiful or interesting in some way -- I delete an old one so there aren't too many to see them all. But just having an Instagram account opens me up to a world of hurt, with lots of those Reels showing up that people post and comment on. Once in awhile I also comment. Big mistake.
Yesterday a woman posted a video of her dog who refuses to eat unless she microwaves his food for three seconds, after which he immediately chows down with gusto. That made me smile as my cat is the same way! If I neglect to stick his food dish in the microwave first, a suggestion I got from my vet, he stares at it like it's poison. I shared this information in the comments section of that woman's video, and got back so much negativity you'd have thought I'd written, "I love Hitler."
One person said that's how his neighbor's dog got cancer and died and so my cat would also get cancer and die soon. Another one said I should, "Check the ingredients and you'll find out the joke is on you." What does that even mean? A third said, "Your vet is a moron, your cat will die, hahahaha!" Yet another person wrote, "You shouldn't even be allowed to own a pet."
These people do not know me. They don't know that I have owned cats (and dogs) for my entire life, that my last two cats lived to be 18 and 20 -- this one is already 15 -- and that absolutely nobody has ever cared for their pets with greater empathy, love, and precision than I have.
Nobody wrote, "That's interesting, I guess it might make the food more appealing." Or, "Gee, I never heard of that, seems wrong somehow but you must know what works for your pet." No, that would be nice. And sane. And reasonable. Which most people are not. And it's not just strangers who treat you like shit; friends do it too.
Like Mary M., who after 13 years of dinners at my home or hers, having me water her many, many outdoor plants each summer for the two weeks she's vacationing, my buying the wreaths and poinsettias her two daughters sold for high-school fundraising each holiday season, accepting my thoughtful and generous gifts at Christmas, asking for my help in her attempt to become a painter (just like me), and coming by unannounced to unload her crappy old lampshades and throw pillows as if I'm the local chapter of Goodwill, waltzed into my home one day last spring to say she didn't like the things I write in my blog and would like me to "change the way I think politically."
Of course I wouldn't, and haven't, and so that was the end of the friendship. And her pussy-whipped husband, a closet Republican who stopped by for a hit of pot and a glass of whiskey pretty much every time he walked the dog, was gone too. (Gotta keep the wife happy!)
Larry David, the genius behind the hit TV shows Seinfeld and Curb Your Enthusiasm, said it best: "People -- they're the worst!"
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