Twisted News: Pet Airways has Snoopy seeing $$$$$$

When I found this odd story on the wonderful world of web I had some trouble wrapping my mind around it. To me, the whole concept of pets flying on their very own airline seems a bit twisted. Or at least really bad timing. We’re in a recession and the human airline industry has suffered but, what the hell! They must know we’ll give our pets the very best. That’s why when I travel I leave my dogs with a greasy 18-yr-old homebody, hard up for a twenty dollar bill and all the food he can scrape off the bottom of an oven (before he comes over - his parents pay him to leave now).

On July 14th this ‘first of its kind’ airline will make its long awaited debut and begin flying what I assume will be the favorite children of America’s rich and famous. So if it wears tailored clothing it’s welcome. *Here’s where you imagine a poodle in a pink $200 sweater that fits oh-so-nice. Or you could go with Michael Jackson’s chimp in an altered toddler tux and cufflinks. The possibilities are endless.

Prices start at $149 for a one-way ticket. So it looks like my puppy Sarge, nicknamed Shredder, has less than 3 months to get his shit together (his act - he has nothing left to pack). On July 11th he’ll turn 1 yr so it’s not much to ask. This extremely cute Retriever has not behaved in any manner consistent with his handsomeness. He’s cost me hundreds in chewed-up bras, appliance cords, dog house, etc. What’s another $149 bucks? Who wouldn’t want to play a game called Who’s The Next Sucker?

I just want him to stop with the bipolar bit. He’s not fooling me. I know he’s crazy ALL of the time.

Flights on Pet Airways will be available in New York, Denver, L.A., Chicago and Washington, D.C.! Lucky Obama family. When their tootsies get sore from all that chewing they can ship off US Treasury Secretary (who doubles as President of France) Timothy Geithner for a weekend. Their new puppy Bo could accompany him, just to keep a watchful eye.

Washington D.C. - you couldn’t pick a better location. I know whenever I think ‘menagerie’…

If you thought perhaps you could fly with your pet - the good news is, you can’t! So don’t worry. No one will be expecting that of you. The only things allowed for the ride that are remotely close to human beings are the strange creatures they call Pet Attendants. It's a tough job but they know all the pertinent languages like Cat, Dog and Dead Goldfish.

Still interested? Do your pets have their own booster seats at the dinner table? Do you ever push them in a stroller? Then this is what you do. You leave your precious pooches at what the airline calls the Pet Lounge. So tell them to leave their wallets at home or bring their best poker faces. It’s the Pet Lounge. That’ll grow ‘em up in a hurry.

A Pet Attendant takes them to potty a couple hours before boarding, which makes me wonder. How does this work at an airport? What can I say. I live in a world where animals do their business outside. And I haven’t had to use the facilities at a Pet Smart. It was weird enough sidestepping dogs, water bowls on the floor and as I was leaving - hearing a clerk’s answer to my joke question, “Anyone ever bitten?”

“Just once, at least while I’ve been here.”

Pet Smart? Oh-kay.

Dumbfounded, I left with eyebrows slightly raised. Around here when a dog bites it bites the dust. Literally. It doesn’t get that second taste of human flesh. We kill it. But what can you expect from a city that lets a dog attack his neighbor twice? Yep, that city also has a Pet Smart. So that settles it. I’m not going back. At least I’ll never have to find out if their restrooms have sandboxes.

So, back to the news that would have Snoopy and his poodle bitches partying in first class if Charles Schulz were still alive (but he would call them ladies). The attendant, much hairier than your average stewardess, sits with your pet the entire flight and caters to its every need. Well, maybe not every need and I should hope not.

I’m wondering, if it gets too noisy or there are species wars, do they use certain tactics like playing the movie Madagascar 2 (the one where the plane crashes)?


Random Poll: Would you use this airline service for your pets?

A) Yes! What a creative way to (once and for all) lose Spot.

B) The ‘not knowing’ seems dreadful and bullets are much cheaper.

C) Would be too much trouble; my pet’s name is on the watch list.

D) I don’t have any pets. I really like polls and I’m pissed that this isn’t interactive. I like to watch the results appear before my eyes and see how my answer compares to others. WTF is this? You lazy bitch.

Magic beans, and what not...

I have this crazy sleep schedule. After a hard day’s work I lie on the sofa to watch some TV and end up passing out for a few hours. Then I catch a few more hours of sleep in the early morning until the phone rings at around nineish. It’s always a computer guy named Jim or gal named Jill who wants me to upgrade my cable to satellite or extend my imaginary warranty, or even consolidate my imaginary credit card debt. Point is, I could sleep through a tornado or monkey slapping my face. But for some reason I always jump out of bed and a deep sleep whenever the phone rings. So that works for me much better than an alarm clock. I’m pretty much awake the rest of the day. At least, until I get home from work. That’s how it’s been for the last few years or so. And now I need to change all of that. In fact, I just took a sleeping pill so I need to finish this as quick as a Vegas wedding so I don’t pass out and drool all over the keyboard. But that’s not a real scenario. Pills only seem to work when someone wants to get high. Well, I just need to hurry.

So my old boss called me about a week ago. I was his office manager for six months in ‘03-‘04 before he realized he could no longer afford to pay me. And regarding the business, he said, “Please! Just take it!”

Since then he’s started and apparently shut down another business that he ran without any outside help, and again started up an entirely new one. Now back to the phone call. I didn’t think much of it since he calls occasionally to see how things are going with me and/or needs a favor. One time I ended up selling sno-cones around town with one of his daughters from a golf cart because he got busy and needed me to take his place. And, he said I would pick up some extra cash. That only lasted about a month. After expenses and splitting the profit with his daughter, I raked in ten dollars a week.

Here’s how the convo went…

“Hey Alicia, sorry to call so early but I need to run something by you. Got a minute?”

“Uh… yeah. What time is it?”

“Ha ha. Hey, I’ve had this new business now for close to a year and it’s doing really well.”

“Tons of dough, huh?” Yawn.

“Like I said, it’s doing well. I have a new office in town, and it would be great if you would come work for me.”

“I’ll have to think about it. Can I keep my current job? ‘Cause I don’t really want to quit it.”

Translation: “I’m scared to death to quit a secure job when any time I’ve ever worked for you it’s only been temporary.”

“Hey, that’s no problem. We can work around your other job. Just think it over, and if you decide you want to do it give me the earliest and latest times you can work.”

Translation: “This I know. I will be your boss again. Muahahahahaha.”

“Sure, I’ll think it over and get back to you.”

Translation: “Oh shit! You really are serious, aren’t you?”

So I called him back on Friday, and he says this will eventually turn into full time with benefits.

Okay. Whatever!

I start first thing Monday morning. Wish me luck.

I'm just a sucker

I’m usually pretty good at running a tight ship around here. That’s what I tell myself. I’m thinking if I hear it enough times, eventually it will come true.

Rewind to April. One of my brother-in-laws wanted me to take a dog off of his household’s hands. I agreed without knowing anything about Monty (the dog). I visited the family in June and learned my sister had a change of heart and they were keeping him. That was good since the vehicle I had to borrow for the 1,000 mile trip didn’t have room to accommodate him. So I got out of the “adopting Monty” situation unscathed. I didn’t come home with an unruly dog even though I really wanted to (my optimistic outlook has got me into trouble many times over). After I’d originally agreed, I began to hear negative things about the dog from people who were “in the know” so I’m thinking I would’ve regretted it in the end.

Well, now I have an entirely new slightly relative situation on my hands.

The friend who loaned me her SUV (I’ll call her Marci) has a daughter the same age as my youngest and they play together. That’s great, and I truly mean that. In fact, they took my daughter camping recently and she had a blast. Well, a few months ago Marci told me her Golden Retriever was pregnant. I was happy for her as she was pretty excited about it. The male dog I think is a Blue Australian Shepherd and has blue eyes. Both dogs are gorgeous. So the pups were bound to be good looking. Well, my daughter has spent a lot of time at their place in the past month since it’s summer and Marci’s daughter doesn’t have any siblings close to her own age. So the two girls have been just like sisters. And throughout all of this my daughter has been watching a very pregnant dog, and having this crazy recurring dream about bringing home a puppy.

Well, I also had childhood dreams…




Tekno the Robotic Puppy doesn’t chew up shoes or pee on them. And if he dies unexpectedly you know a tear-filled backyard burial won’t be in order. This kind of awesomeness wasn’t even in the price range of “maybe” when I was a kid, so what am I waiting for??

And another thing… my childhood dreams always got squashed. What’s with kids nowadays? How do they manipulate some of us into thinking their dreams are more important than ours were?

Anywho, the drama over the puppies “coming soon” had been building for quite some time. Then one morning not too long ago, we got the call. Goldie was in labor. Oh my god, my daughter was so excited. Her friend was so excited. Marci was so excited. I was feeling like I was pretty happy with the dog we already have. She is a Red Heeler/German Shepherd mix and a great family pet. But of course I was happy for everyone and their “feelings” so I joined in on the excitement.

That evening I got another call. Goldie was in labor too long and needed a C-section. Marci’s daughter spent the night at our house and Marci took the dog to the Vet. The next day I called and found out Goldie and her lover were much more than fertile. She had been carrying a whopping 13 pups; they all made it and were healthy. Thirteen puppies! Holy crap! She was baffled. How did that happen? No one knows for sure, but since half of them are black I don’t think one can rule out the possibility that Goldie was sneaking around, and maybe had a little jungle love on the side. I don’t think a dog can be called a whore for sleeping around, but, what an animal.

Somehow I was talked into seeing the puppies. More like “ganged up on” in a way. I don’t like it when a group of females get together. I wouldn’t recommend it. I was basically mobbed - emotionally - which is the worst kind of attack. Totally unfair. Then my one son who really loves dogs found out about the puppies. That was the straw that kicked the camel in the crotch (and he’s going down in our family history for that one, like it or not). He pulled me over to Marci’s and begged me. He picked out his favorite. I kind of melted when I met the little thing. His eyes weren’t open yet and he just laid in Marci’s hand like a… well, almost like a very realistic robotic toy.

So I guess you know what happens next. I still have a little time before the pup is off his mom’s teats, nips, or whatever you call them. But he doesn’t have a name yet. I’m open to suggestions. “Trucker” rhymes with sucker, so I might just go with that…

Yes, I am kidding (about the name Trucker).