My Dog is Not Overweight

I am the proud, devoted, smitten owner of a Welsh Corgi named Sulley. Corgis, despite their hilariously short legs, are meant to be solid, hefty dogs capable of herding flocks of geese and trotting around the Welsh countryside. My dog is of the solid type, and also happens to be quite fluffy as evidenced by his name (taken from the furry blue guy in Monsters, Inc.). All of these qualities make for one adorably disproportionate dog who is NOT, by the way, overweight.

So you can image how I feel when, while pleasantly strolling around Savannah avec Sulley, I am forced to engage on a conversation like this:

Lady on bench in a square: Oooooo look at that dog!
Me: (polite laughter)
L: Ain't he fat? Oooo ain't he fat!!
Me: (strained laughter) He's not fat, he's just fluffy.
L: He so funny lookin'! Look at them little legs and him bein' so fat!
Me: (threatening smile) Yes, he's a good boy.
L: I wanna come home with you, if you feedin' him like that!
Me: (death laughter) Oh, yes.

That's right, I didn't defend the love of my life. I didn't pat him on the head, look at her accusingly and say, "You're hurting his feelings, ma'am." I didn't get teary-eyed and storm away. I didn't do any of the things a mother would do if similar comments had been made about her baby and, let's face it, he is my baby. In retrospect, this is how I wish it had gone.
L: Ooooo look at that dog!!
Me: What, bitch? You got somethin' to say? What? What?
L: Ain't he fat? Oooo ain't he fat?
Me: (looking L up and down) Oh, right, like you can pass judgment.
L: He so funny lookin'! Look at them little legs and him bein' so fat!
Me: I got little legs for you. (KAPOW and I kick her in the face)
L: I wanna come home with you, if you feedin' him like that!
Me, to Sulley: Go ahead. Eat her ankle.

Lady on the bench in a square: if you're reading this right now, prepare yourself. You won't get my southern sweetness again.

That's a lie. Yes you will.

Damn.