OK, I accept that there is no doubt that what this guy has trained his dog to do is very, very clever indeed, and it all looks like a lot of lighthearted fun, but I also can't escape the feeling that something really fucked up is going on here.
Exhibit A. Why is the dance-off taking place in what looks like a dimly lit underground car park? Three things happen in dimly lit underground car parks: 1) car parking; 2) meetings with people who are trying to leak top secret government documents; 3) bestial snuff porn. Or could it be that this isn't a car park at all, but a specially constructed underground meringue dungeon? The dog is smiling now, but what about when the cameras are off?
Exhibit B. The dog is wearing a dress. Only it's not a fun, brightly coloured pom-pom dress befitting the average hound of jaunty terpsichorean disposition, but a floaty gossamer thing that someone - someone not too far away from the dog - has clearly thought about far too much. Involuntary shuddering may commence now.
Exhibit C. You can dance with your dog. If that's what you like to do, go for it. You can do the hustle, the cha-cha, the samba, the chattanooga choo-choo for all I care. But the bump and grind? Dear god, man, have you no shame?
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