There’s something magical that happens when animals are anthropomorphized and placed into a narrative feature film. We get giddy. Excited. We tend to imagine how great it would be for us to have our own talking animals. We already treat our pets like friends. Give them a voice and the capacity for complex thought and who knows, maybe true colors will fly and we’ll find out that our four-legged friends are actually four-legged assholes. But at least in that case we could still leverage their miraculous capabilities for our own personal gain, right? Well, that’s probably what I would do. That’s because I am, as I assume a talking animal to be, an asshole.
