The Real Housewives of Dallas's Brief Encounter With a Pet Psychic Has Left Me Shaken

The Real Housewives of Dallas's Brief Encounter With a Pet Psychic Has Left Me Shaken

A question has loomed large in the American consciousness since the suburbs were first erected and flooded with heiresses and reality television stars: Are the ghosts of dead pets OK with new pets wearing their used luxury puppy couture? Thankfully, the Real Housewives of Dallas has bravely journeyed into the unknown and emerged with some semblance of an answer.

Dead dogs go to heaven and therefore don’t have any need for Chanel mink coats and Rolex collars.

Kameron Westcott, the self-described “Elle Woods” of the Dallas suburbs, hired a pet psychic on Thursday’s episode of RHOD. All season, she has mourned the death of her longtime companion Louis, whose puppy bed she still keeps by her pillow because it reminds her of his smell. To fill the miniature Yorkshire terrier-shaped hole in her heart, she adopted a Pomeranian, Fanci, who hasn’t adjusted well to living in a Texas McMansion, and whose daily classes with a celebrity dog trainer have been a major focal point in Kameron’s personal arc in the pandemic.

Screenshot:Instagram/@kameronwestcott (Fair Use)

In her brief chat with the psychic, which her husband described as a “seance” and from which one of her children fled the scene, Kam asked a series of hard-hitting questions, like: Is the ghost of Louis still in the house? Does Louis feel replaced by Fanci? And, most importantly, is Fanci allowed to wear Louis’s old clothes now that he is in dog heaven and not wearing them anymore.

I’m sure this psychic is a very nice lady, and everyone obviously deals with grief on an emotional spectrum that will possibly never be fully comprehended. But… uh… take a look.

There’s nothing more horrifying to me than a dog lich that follows me around to multiple homes, barking into the cold, dark ether of death, wondering why a new dog is wearing its favorite Balenciaga booties. Or worse: Jumping up on the bed while I sleep, poisonous, rotten drool leaking down onto my face, panting, and panting, and panting, but never catching its breath, wondering when its spirit will be released from its eternal punishment.

Why can’t I stop shivering?

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