Any story regarding Anna Faris or husband Chris Pratt must begin with, they are so super cool and chill for Hollywood. People blurt it out reflexively. It must be true. And not in the way everybody said the same thing about Jared Fogle. Though he did always seem to have candy on hand for the children. It’s a good reputation buffer for stories of your adopted chihuahua showing up in the street emaciated.
L.A. has a rule about malnourished Mexicans. They must be on two feet. Homeless Pete the Chihuahua was handed over by a good Samaritan who brought the sickly looking dog into a vet. His chip was run. He belonged to Anna Faris through an animal shelter adoption. You can grab a puppy mill pure bred behind the Denny’s by leaving two hundred bucks on the hood of the red Olds. But adopting rescue pets means background checks and paperwork and contracts. Not for the sake of the pooches. They’re not looking to complicate the process that saves them from Doggy Dachau.
Among Faris’ signed obligations before taking home Pete was a provision that she’d never move him to another owner or location without updating the tracking paperwork. If she did, she would be fined five grand. It’s unclear whether she moved Pete on to a new home or she kept ownership of Pete and he simply escaped. Either way, cough up the five large for the super lean canine. Also, henceforth, Faris’ name shall be stricken from approved pet adoption family lists. Might as well have a Trump bumper sticker on your car. You’ve just lost most of your friends. Also your gardner is intentionally fucking up your André le Nôtre hedge rows.
Ghandi said you can measure a nation by how it treats its dogs. He had more trouble naming three decent Anna Faris movies.
Photo credit: Splash News