Well it seems Jessica Simpson has finally learned to not make her pets look so delicious all the time.

No doubt right now she’s stripping all her cats out of their hamburger outfits, she’s un-plucking all her canary’s feathers and hoping the generously applied butter-baste rinses off on it’s own, and she’s gonna stop breading her still-alive goldfish every 15 minutes.

She’s not giving all this up for no good reason though – it’s because a coyote recently swooped in, picked up her pooch, and carried it off to a ferrel-dog picnic or something.

Incidentally, all this happened right before Simpson’s eyes.

Not too long ago we all laughed along as a coyote hilariously stumbled into Paris Hilton’s backyard and ate every single dog she has ever owned. Nobody’s laughing now though. Probably because authorities now believe the coyote in question may have gone serial – it’s recently run off with Jessica Simpson’s dog.

And just to avoid any confusion – when we say ‘run off with,’ we don’t mean her puppy had a thing for motorcycle riding bad boys, and as such headed off into the sunset with one. No – we don’t mean that at all. What we’re really trying to imply here is that the tiny Simpson dog was picked up by some yellowed teeth and carried off into a doggie sized rotisserie.

Probably.

Everything we know, we learned from Twitter -  Simpson’s Twitter:

“My heart is broken because a coyote took my precious Daisy right in front of our eyes. HORROR! We are searching. Hoping. Please help!”

We know what you’re thinking – ‘If Simpson was right there then why didn’t she stop the carry-off herself? After all, the most recent reports have describe her as being beefy and muscular.’ That has a simple answer, really – that being let’s see you try to stop a rollerskating coyote with an ACME rocket strapped on. Those things are fast, you know. You’d lose an arm – no matter how beefy it was.

But we have faith that the dog will turn up again, granted it’ll probably be as a white-poofed turd in the middle of the woods, but still, at least we’ll all know what happened. And then the rains will come, and the seasons will change. Eventually the fluffy white turd will melt away into the dirt from which we’ve all come. And then perhaps a seed will sprout – growing ever upwards until one day, as the wind weaves through its branches we’ll hear the faint whisper of a bark reminding us all just how this tree came to thrive.

And that, as we once learned in a cartoon, is the oval of life.

And it’d probably make a good country album. Harvest your pain, Simpson, harvest your pain and set it to a steel guitar.

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