I used to be one of those people who laughed at animal fanatics. You know the type, I’m sure: the slightly older woman upstairs with the eight cats, who mis-hits with the fushia lipstick just enough to make you a little worried; the woman at the flea market wearing the electric pink spangled baseball cap pushing her three Yorkies in a similarly matching electric pink spangled doggie stroller. (Why are they all women? Don’t ask me that. This is a food blog.)
