Reality show harpies Kim and Kyle Richards are being sued by a woman who claims that Kim’s perpetually hungry and/or psychotic dog Kingsley attacked her at Kyle’s house. The Botox-sheened sister “stars” of The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills welcomed stylist Paige Sanderson to Kyle’s house to dress Kim for a promotional appearance back in April. Well, it appears as though she should have pulled a bite suit for herself alongside the shoot clothes she borrowed for Kyle to drool wine on. Kingsley, already known for his aggression, allegedly chomped her ass.
TMZ says according to a lawsuit, Sanderson claims that she ran into a bathroom in terror as soon as she saw Kim’s pit bull. After being assured that Kingsley was chill, the stylist exited the toilet and that’s when Kingsley mistook her for a Wobble Wag Giggle Ball.
Sanderson says the dog lunged at her, bit and held on to her lower abdomen and crotch, tearing off her leggings and underwear and ripping out portions of flesh.
That’s terrifying. What’s worse is that Kim allegedly refused to call 911 unless Sanderson promised to cover for Kingsley and blame the attack on a stray dog. I totally get it. Bleeding, naked woman in your kitchen? Time for a cover-up! Does Ray Donovan live there or something?
I am a dog lover, but Kingsley sounds like the Night Stalker crossed with Cujo. His file down at Animal Services must need its own zip drive.
Kyle is being sued because it happened at her house. Was it the “GODDAMN HOUSE” she cruelly stole from Kim? That’s one way to slash and burn the property you’ll never get back. Have your dog try to kill someone in their kitchen. Value depreciated! That’s a lot of clean-up and realtors aren’t going to show a house covered in blood and shredded panties soaked in dog spittle.
Sanderson is looking to collect for emotional distress, cosmetic surgery and medical bills.
When I was a kid, I had a paper route (yes, I’m old AF). One lovely day, a customer’s dog chomped my fat (even then) Irish ass as I was leaving the premises. I was a shrieking (I was gay back then, too) 12-year-old trying to run with a medium-sized dog attached to the seat of his pants. It was a terrifying incident. “Sammy” (Such a vicious brute did not deserve such a non-threatening name. He should have been named “Psycho Killer” or “Naomi Campbell“) didn’t break the skin, but he nearly put me off dogs for the rest of my life. This is why I own a teacup poodle. If he wanted to bite me on the ass, he would first have to ascend a kitchen step stool. Luckily he’s way too dumb to get it out of the closet, unfold it, ascend it, and trick me into walking by. (I’m dumb enough to be tricked into walking by.)