“I’ve been procrastinating so much at work, mostly thinking of how rich people’s dogs don’t need to work, that they fired me,” said Tan. “My first thought was ‘I bet this would never happen to a rich person’s dog. Man, I really wish I was a rich person’s dog.’ That was my second thought.”
“I’d even be a pug with their messed up face and inability to breathe if it meant I never needed to pay rent again.”
Andrew used to be an analyst at an ad agency downtown. Nowadays, he spends his time taking buzzfeed quizzes about what kind of expensive dog he would be (Samoyed), looking at Yelp reviews of exclusive dog salons and creating one of those hybrid “this what your child would look like” pictures from a picture of him and a Samoyed.
“Ideally this family would be a classic 5 person rich family, let’s call them the Dupont family. 2 parents, 3 children. There would be a dog for each child, some real Game of Thrones shit. I would be the dog of the youngest child, Samuel, Sam for short. I would keep Sam so fucking happy, he’d never even want to LOOK at another dog. The guilt itself would consume him.” he says, squishing a stress ball to its limit in his 1 bedroom basement apartment.
Andrew has a vision board of this family that he keeps “just for fun” under his pillow to look at before he sleeps.
“I just think it would be so sick to be a rich person’s dog. Not sure if I’ve mentioned that, but can you imagine? No job, all the best food…even the peanut butter they would use to trick me into taking my medicine would be freshly made…oh and the cottages! No work on how to minimize capital gains tax on my properties, but just the sheer joy of being a rich dog.”
When advised that, in this fantasy scenario, he would only live 15-18 more years Tan stared off into the middle distance with a smile on his face before whispering “yeah.”