Let's get one thing straight:
1) My human pet cannot dance.
She likes to think she can, but more often than not, I would compare her skill to Elaine's masterpiece from Seinfeld. My pet likes to hoot and hollar just like Elaine. She claps and throws her hands into the air as well. The only thing separating the two is my pet's dances are not so choppy and erratic.
Let's study another point:
2) My human pet will dance over anything.
She got a mocha latte for free at the local coffee house. Incoming dance. She received her biweekly check for doing her job. Incoming dance. She busted out a beat subconsciously, realized it, and now, must make sure it was not in vain. Incoming dance.
Hold those thoughts. (Feel free to take me literally and print this post out. I'll wait.)
Let me take you to last night. I am sitting next to the human pet as she plays on PokerStars. I am softly washing away the grime of the day, content in the quiet of our den. She is fixated on the glowing screen, clicking the words 'Fold', 'Check', 'Raise', and 'Call' with precision. She occasionally lets out a grunt or two, but she's focused, clearly poised to make a move.
And then it happens...
I call that the I've-got-pocket-Kings-and-you-don't-know groove. Oh, you haven't heard of that one before? I'm not surprised. I suppose then it's safe to assume you also don't know of the I-just-won-more-than-500-chips slide or the elusive I-can't-believe-I-went-all-in-on-a-weak-Ace jig.
Dear God in heaven, hear my prayer. Make the bad pet stop.