Ooh eeeh, ooh ah ah, ching chang wadda wadda bing bang

I became convinced the Most Beautiful Dog had cancer, because I am a veterinarian and I am 100% equipped to make these judgments. Bawling uncontrollably, I did what I do best in these situations: light up a cigarette and listen to Bob Marley, thinking of the irony, then called my mom to tell her the news.

“All you need to do,” my mom said, “is put some chicken fat in her water. It’ll take care of everything,” then sighed with impatience.

Now, since it worked, I’m depressed that my mom was correct about something. But totally into the fact that my mom is a voodoo witch doctor.