Everything that happens in Lena Dunham’s life is documented, shared, and made available for privileged white women to send party platters to express their sympathy. The girls kidnapped and raped along their desperate trek for a jug of ebola infested water in Ghana have no concept of what Dunham endures for her people. Plus, UNICEF lies, while Dunham’s blog posts and Vogue interviews are backed by science.
For the past four years, Dunham has publicized the lovable rescue canine she named “Lamby”. A real member of her and her boyfriend’s childless family that went with them everywhere, shared in their ups and downs, and had to see Dunham naked on a daily basis. She routinely brought the dog with her for photo shoots, guest appearances, and to sniff out which dumpsters might contain half-eaten cheeseburgers during her binge periods.
Dunham repeatedly framed the dog as having been a passed around, serial abused pup, with anti-social tendencies. As proof, she once posted a photo of her bloodied ass in panties from a dog bite. Why else would Lena Dunham have blood on her ass? I dare you to think of five reasons without vomiting.
“We had such a nice life. The first real comfort I’ve known in so long. Nights were quiet and sweet, and we slept until whatever o’clock we wanted, then sat on the couch in our underwear and planned the day.”
Lamby had an Instagram account with eighteen thousand followers, though not enough to prevent Dunham from acquiring two new puppies and deciding Lamby had to be put out to pasture. Dunham claims that “honesty is her jam” and she “re-homed” the dog in a place where he could be properly cared for. Nice try. We’re not six anymore hearing the same about our pet fish being released into the ocean.
This was the last straw for the guy who runs the Brooklyn animal rescue center where Dunham picked up Lamby. The adoption contracts specifically state that owners who have trouble with their rescues are never to personally re-home the dogs. They must return the dogs to the rescue facilities for properly managed re-adoption. It’s standard procedure in all such no-kill dog rescue centers.
Robert Vazquez insists that he’s been running the rescue center for some time, was heavily involved with Dunham’s adoption of Lamby (with a picture to prove it), and that the dog’s background isn’t at all close to how Dunham described him. Lamby wasn’t a passed around beaten dog, he was dropped off by an owner who no longer had time to care for him. Vazquez notes they don’t adopt out troubled dogs because it’s a huge waste of time. Let alone to a high profile celebrity. He points to how many guest appearances and shoots Dunham made with Lamby where the dog seems perfectly docile and trained, as Vazquez knew him to be prior to adoption. Implied in Vazquez’ comments, Dunham was a shitty owner who turned the dog ill. Now she’s throwing him to the wind.
None of this has prevented Dunham from repeatedly writing about her broken heart. Certainly this was harder on her than on Lamby, wherever the fuck he’s sleeping tonight. Goodnight, sweet prince.