I had not, until recently, read about the abuse Mitt Romney inflicted years ago on an Irish setter named Seamus. Romney’s torturous treatment of his supposed best friend was described in a June 2007 profile of the candidate in The Boston Globe, which reported: “Mitt Romney put Seamus, the family’s hulking Irish setter, in a dog carrier and attached it to the station wagon’s roof rack. He’d built a windshield for the carrier, to make the ride more comfortable for the dog.”
A few days later, The Boston Globe published a follow-up piece that explained: “The Globe learned of the incident from Romney family friends during its reporting for a seven-part series this week on the candidate’s life, and Romney family members confirmed the facts.”
That follow-up report also tells us that “hours into the ride, Seamus apparently suffered diarrhea, which ran down the back window of the car. Romney’s sons, all under 14, howled in disgust. Romney pulled off the road into a service station. There, he borrowed a hose, washed down Seamus and the car, and they drove on to Ontario.”
During a 2007 campaign stop in Pittsburgh, Romney scoffed at reporters’ questions about the incident, saying, rather snidely, “PETA has not been my fan over the years. PETA was after me for having a rodeo at the Olympics, and very, very upset about that. PETA was after me when I went quail hunting in Georgia. And they’re not happy that my dog likes fresh air.”
The Boston Globe’s above-mentioned follow-up report quoted Romney as saying: “(Seamus) scrambled up there every time we went on trips. … He got [up] all by himself and enjoyed it.”
The New York Times columnist Gail Collins has doggedly (pun intended) drawn attention to the perpetual candidate’s unconscionable treatment of the late Irish setter, and for that I thank her.
The Boston Globe’s June 2007 profile of Romney suggested: “It was a tiny preview of a trait he would grow famous for in business: emotion-free crisis management.”
To me, “it was a tiny preview” of a vapid and desperate egomaniac.
Clearly, Romney didn’t care at all about Seamus during the subject road trip in 1983, nor did he care what anyone thought about him treating the Irish setter like luggage, as evidenced by his insulting comments to reporters in Pittsburgh in 2007.
It is becoming ever-more obvious, as we endure the inanity of the dim-witted suits running for president in 2012, that rhetoric from any particular candidate in his or her bid for the White House is just that and nothing more — especially in the case of Romney, who remains an unembarrassed practitioner of the lip-service-of-expedience school of empty thought.
I could care less what Romney has to say, and I’ll leave it to others to wonder if Our Lackey of Perpetual Wealth has a brain under his super-coiffed helmet-do. What does concern me is Romney’s lack of a proper soul. His admitted animal cruelty, and his quick dismissal of questions about the mistreatment of his supposed best friend, is all the evidence I need that Romney’s narcissism would be better described as callous inhumanity.
Romney, based on his Travels with Seamus alone, is as qualified for the presidency as a canister of Aqua Net. He should be strapped to the roof of his campaign bus and hosed down every time he soils his silk pants.