This is a dog named Lexus. I hate Lexus.

Some of you already know that I have a pretty low level of tolerance for all animals. In fact the reason I'm vegetarian is that I dislike animals enough that I don't want them anywhere close to my intestinal tract. Now, I don't hate all animals equally. I only have moderate hatred for cats, or even intelligent dogs, as long as someone else owns them, and they don't mess with me. But no animal has incurred my wrath more than Lexus, a dog that my roommate has had the accursed role of sitting while its real owner is having crazy uninterrupted sex with her new boyfriend in the Bahamas or something like that.

Lexus is an Italian Greyhound. Of all the breeds of dog, the Italian Greyhound is probably the most wretched. There are dogs that come close, like chihuahuas or miniature poodles (of course the case may be made that I hate the owners more than the dog, which may be partially true). But they don't match up to Italian Greyhound. And even within this breed, Lexus is in a league of its own. There are multiple reasons why I have pure undiluted hatred in my heart for this dog, not all of which are its own fault. For ease of comprehension of what landed Lexus at the absolute top of my shit list, I have divided my list into three parts - unfortunate selective breeding, crappy training, and other:

A. Unfortunate selective breeding

You know that no God in his/her right mind would create something so ghastly. A bunch of twisted freaks, for their own sadistic amusement kept breeding Lexus' forefathers with her foremothers in one crazy canine incest-fest after another until we got this monstrosity.

1. Lexus has spindly-ass legs. They are like little swizzle sticks that move stiffly and with no coordination, resulting in the weirdest dog gait I have seen. It also bounces up and down without its legs bending at all. This is not intriguing; it is downright vomitous. I have to often bite my hand to prevent myself from grabbing any one of its legs and snapping it in two. And then twisting the broken half free and shoving it up its ass.

2. Lexus has no body fat. Which makes its torso as ugly as its feet, but also makes the damn thing shiver when the temperature goes below 72 degrees. It quakes visibly.

3a. It has a really small head. Which fits neatly into my palm, making it a perfect object to test my ability to crush things in my palm. Also, as a result of 3a, we have
3b. The eyes of this dog don't fit well into its sockets, and protrude out by an alarming (and needless to say, extremely visually disturbing) 1/2 inch. Which is like a bonus for my skull crushing game: As you squeeze the brains out of this dog, when do the eyeballs pop out?

4. They don't bark - they yip. Very often. At nothing in particular. I'm sure the dog keeps noticing stuff that excites its walnut-sized brain, but this can be extraordinarily annoying when it notices exciting sruff at 3 am and I'm trying to catch some sleep before work.

5. They are on a constant caffeine-like high. Combine this with points 1 and 4, and it means that you get a constantly hyperactive jumping and yipping little piece of shit. It also means that you have to focus hard to make sure that well-aimed kick actually lands on its ugly face.

B. Crappy training

Now, not only does Lexus start off at a huge evolutionary disadvantage, it also has the misfortune of being owned by a completely irresponsible and mentally and emotionally deficient individual. This may well be extrapolated to all people who won such fucked up freaks of the inbred animal kingdom; they are usually vain, insecure, intellectually deficient and emotional trainwrecks. And for some reason, people with this exquisite combination of god-awful personality traits tend to get dogs like Lexus.

1. Lexus hasn't been potty trained. Not only did this dog test the limits of my gag refles with its mere presence in my house, but it also took a giant dump in the middle of my room (with all its deficiencies, if you took a look at that dookie, you'd realize that the only thing that works - and it works like a mother in its stunted body - is its digestive tract). Now, if you ask your friend to dog-sit your dumb mutt, the least you can do is make sure that the stupid thing doesn't take a shit on your friends' roommates floor.

2. The dog tends to wander while in the process of peeing. I don't know how it does it, but it does. And so now we have streaks of fluorescent yellow dog pee all over our floors. In all rooms. So, when you're teaching fido not to take a shit in your friends house, please also teach it not to pee while walking on its spider legs.

3. The thing is an aggressive sonofabitch when you're eating. It doesn't beg by looking at you longingly, it actually jumps right at our elbow, trying to snag scraps of food from the table. So if you have to eat you actually have to physically block it from getting its sloppy snout into your food. One little advantage is that you do get to elbow it in the face, something which fills me with immense happiness.

4. It scavenges bits of food from the floor and trashcan. I'm sure it also drinks from the toilet bowl, even though I haven't caught it doing so. I hope it licks its owners face all over with its filthy tongue that's been everywhere.

5. It doesn't answer to anything. I finally gave up yelling "Lexus" a few days back, and had to start growling, barking and snapping at the thing. You can't make the dog intelligent, so you have to lower yourself to its pathetic level of intelligence. After a couple of days of this, I think it has finally cottoned on the fact that I may have less than warm feelings for it.

C. Other

1. Lexus is ugly. The entire breed is ugly, for sure, but this one is exceptional. The dog on the Wikipedia page looks acceptable. This one is the canine equivalent of a cross between Steven Tyler and a cracked out Amy Winehouse.

2. Lexus is stupid. There's only so much brain you can fit in that small skull, but as far as the intelligence curves for Italian Greyhounds go, this one is way, waaay on the left. The dog runs and actually retrieves random stuff when you fake throwing something. Plus one look at its face (go ahead, take a look at the pic that I have helpfully attached), and you know there are just empty cans rattling behind those vacant and bulbous - and weirdly fluorescent) eyes.

And finally

3. Lexus is very affectionate and has NO memory. I've kicked it, poured water on it, rubbed its face in its own feces, chased it around the house while making angry mad dog sounds, and it still tries to play with me (It is somewhat scared of my dog avatar). You may think this is endearing, but all it does is make me think of more ways to kill it in the most painful way possible. I have a long list, but that list is mine, and mine alone.

Unfortunately, I can't actually kill the thing, because my roommate's friend may get mad, though really, she ought to be thankful. So I write instead, in the hope that somehow this form of catharsis will make me feel better about the smell of Lexus' dog shit emanating from my carpet. Maybe it'll work.

Maybe.