Fats shouldn't work with animals. The background to this is that I work as a supervisor in a crate-free, upscale dog daycare and boarding facility. People pay good money to make sure their dogs are getting exercise and socialization in a clean, safe environment. I started off the job pretty thin, but I keep myself in good shape and since starting I have built a lot of muscle and would even consider myself fit. This is huge because the job itself requires a bit of physical labor. In order to keep the dogs occupied (and from getting bored and destroying shit or attacking each other) you have to constantly be in motion: walking around checking for poop, running with the dogs, throwing balls, playing games that engage the group, etc. You also have to keep the facility clean and move around some heavy play equipment every day at opening and closing, and even during the day in the summer. On an average 10 hour shift my pedometer clocks in 11,000-18,000 steps a day, depending on how many dogs we have. It really doesn't seem like a job for a hamplanet, but we've been short-staffed and honestly desparate for full-time employees. Enter hambeast. I knew when I saw this woman that it wasn't going to end well. In order to keep with our dress code, this ordinarily leggings-donning beast wore jeans that could not contain her stretch-mark covered muffin top. I had to see that thing peeking out from under her polo shirt every single day. To be honest, her gender was indescernable. I only know because of her name. This thing would sit on its gravy-filled, crater-covered ass every single shift. Couldn't even bother getting up to at least throw a ball around for our clients. It would just sit there and imprison these dogs under its bingo wings (I'm all for petting as many dogs as possible, but at least I have human-sized arms). When it came to daily cleaning tasks, they were irrelevant to this ham. On the best days, they were an inconvenience to which she would not subject herself. I had to do twice the work to cover her ass. It gets worse, however. Every single time I came to cover her shift, the yards would have numerous piles of cold shit for me to pick up. Huge health hazard, first of all. The water in the bowls would be under the sun and therefore hot and undrinkable, and the pools would be filled with mud because God forbid you lift anything heavier than a goddamned sandwich to your face during the day. And there she would be, on her phone, receiving personal calls or texting instead of watching the dogs she was already putting in danger. We were stretched so thin my boss just couldn't fire this bitch. Then finally, the inevitable happened. The dogs she was watching got into a pretty decent-sized fight, and she just sat there and did absolutely nothing about it. She tried calling the dogs off for maybe a few seconds before I came running to her yard. She flashed her most "I'm so shocked I don't even know what to do" face as I physically forced myself between the dogs and herded the more violent dogs out of the yard. The aggressor nipped me in the back of the leg and bruised me, but the fight was mostly just loud and nobody was seriously injured. As somebody who's been involved in more than a few dog fights,, though, I knew that the entire thing was totally preventable. The ones involved were separated from the rest of the group for the day as protocol dictates. It was the straw that broke the camel's back. I wrote her up on the incident report and personally told my boss that she was completely fucking useless. But here's quite possibly the worst part. She never came back after that. Ever. No call, no text, no written resignation (which is required). She just left, and I was stuck working overtime in order to cover for the fact that we were suddenly operating with one less employee. It's a small business, and being understaffed is a huge safety hazard for all our dogs. This bitch could not be bothered to at least give my boss at least a couple days to try to find another worker, and all the staff had to suffer as a result. Honestly, if you can't be responsible enough to stop after your third Twinkie or get up off the couch to at least get a walk in, you shouldn't be working with dogs. Fatties obviously don't care about their own health, so they can't be expected to give the tiniest shit about the health of an animal. Let's just hope my boss received that message. TL;DR: Fatty gets hired for a physically active job at a dog daycare, recklessly endangers the health and safety of all dogs in her care, then quits without any warning. Basically, don't let fats be responsible for other living creatures. Ever.