Even the Cow Looks Menacing.....

A friend and I had a debate the other day about the impending zombie apocalypse. He was curious to know where people would live in the likely event of an undead uprising. I, being a fan of Max Brooks, felt secure in my answer: I would live in a remote forest in a tree house (bad-ass Swiss family Robinson style) and use rudimentary tools to forage for food and to hunt. Never mind that a few years ago my master plan for such an event involved holing up in the attic, crying and cursing myself for never investing in a gun....or a crowbar.....or a chainsaw. Anyway, I'm an adult now with a young child, so it's time to grow up and take this shit seriously. Fortunately, I had read Brook's The Zombie Survival Guide from cover to cover, and I was pretty confident in my zombie evading skills. Just when I was beginning to feel all eat up with the smug, my friend decides to shatter my world by telling me that there wouldn't be any wildlife to hunt. Now, he meant that the zombies would use the intestines of fuzzy rabbits to paint the forest red, but I suddenly had the image of undead wildlife and began rethinking my original attic plan.
 Zombie sharks are horrifying, as are zombie bears, and zombie gorillas, and lions, and all those other asshole animals who would just love to eat people given the chance. But I don't care about them, because I don't live near any of them, so they don't concern me. BUT.....You know what does concern me? Zombie raccoons. Zombie 'possums. Zombie squirrels and the like.ZOMBIE COWS AND HORSES AND PIGS AND GOATS!!! Not to mention the issue of  all of the household pets that would suddenly start to hunger for our flesh, daring to bite the hands that feed them. It's bad enough that Cat Lady's little darlings are already licking their chomps for the day she finally kicks the bucket, but zombie cats don't wait...And knowing cats, they'll probably just pretend to be zombies because cats are jerks. Now, I love my small, magical dog, even though she smells like burnt butthole hair (even after a bath), but so help me, if she ever has the audacity to reanimate, I will stomp her head until it's a thick paste.
And because of our little conversation, I've been looking at all animals for the past few days with greater suspicion  and  a  little  contempt.