It was the search for parrot food that led me into, ‘Pet Stupid’. Yet, I have to admit I always get an education when I am there. I watched as a young clerk tried to match the proper hamster to a eager family. Funny, I did not know that rodents had such differences in personalities. I listened as she asked, “Are you an active family?”

It seems that one particular little bugger was an extrovert. Now please do not get the wrong impression. I was not eaves dropping. The parrot food is right there, just two isles over from where the hamsters were. Just as the clerk was sticking her hand in the glass aquarium container which held the little creatures, the introverted one reached up and bit her. I guess when I muttered, “Yeah that’s what I’m talking about,” I was overheard by another of the Pet Stupid clan. “Can I help you sir?” she asked in a sort of annoyed voice.

I felt sort of like I was back in school again and had been caught cheating at some test. Not that I ever really cheated you understand, but I was often accused of it. “Yes I answered her.”

I wanted to immediately take control of the situation before I was told to go to the managers office.

“I am looking,” I continued, “For a parrot food that will help my parrot talk.”

“Oh, what type of parrot do you have?” she asked.

“A grey one,” I replied.

After all, I know about dogs. To me parrots are identified by colors. Why else would God have made so many colors of them.

“An African Grey?” she asked.

“Yes, that will work,” I answered proudly.

Then, as a dog lifted his leg against an aquarium stand, I thought, was I supposed to bring him here? Just as the thought of my bird flying across the ceiling was becoming more vivid, the spell was broken by the girl saying, “This is a complete diet. It will promote growth, health and speech.” Wow! I thought and all in one bag. “That will do,” I said with conviction.

I thought I would simply just walk away with the birds food, but not in Pet Stupid. “What are you trying to get him to say?” she asked with her head cocked to one side.

“Say?” I stuttered.

“Yes, say,” she replied.

Her eyes were blinking like the warning lights on a nuclear site.

“I want him to say…….” She just kept blinking and smiling at me.

“I want him to say” I continued then I blurted it out very quickly. “ I want him to say you’re a communist.”

She just kept blinking and smiling at me. Her head would cock from one side to the other, but no words were coming. “Well thanks for the help,” I said. I turned to head for the check out. Looking back over my shoulder at the first turn I could see her. She was still blinking and smiling at the spot where I had been standing. I am in trouble now I thought to myself. I have finally driven one of them over the edge. I looked back from the check out and sure enough she was in ‘over load’, still blinking and smiling.

In front of me was a distinct line of blood droplets on the floor. The hamster girl had come this way I thought. Her young life was oozing out, but she continued on her given mission to the check out. Sure enough there in front of me was the proud new hamster family. Holding out a little card board box that seemed to jump and sway in the four fingers which secured it. Then I noticed a shopping cart full of hamster stuff. A cage and toys, food, a wheel, little colored dishes and shavings. Wow these people will need a loan for this stuff I thought.

“Don’t let it out,” a stout woman begged the frightened guy that held the creature in the box.

“Then hurry!” he replied. “He’s digging at the box.”

DIGGING at the BOX! I almost shouted. NOT DIGGING AT THE BOX, I thought. OH! the inhumanity of it all. Then I realized it was only a hamster. If he got out, I would simply step on him.

Soon the pressure was relieved as they left with a rattling cart and a box held way out front as the automatic doors gave a ‘whishing’ sound at their passing. These poor people will sleep in terror I thought, until little Hammy dies of bloat.

My turn next to check out. Checking out of Pet Stupid is kind of like trying to check out of Hotel California. You just don’t pay and go. “Did you find everything you wanted,” the woman asked me.

“Yes” I replied pulling back. I had to pull back. Her face was right in mine.

“Good,” she said in a high pitched voice.

“Do you have a parrot?” she asked me. I mean why else would I be buying parrot food?

“No,” I answered “I just collect the food.”

“Yes,” she replied.

Her eyes started blinking. “Would you like to donate a dollar to help the homeless animals?” she asked so sweetly.

“NO,” I answered. Now her head sort of half cocked to one side and she pounded the register key.

“Oh,” she replied.

It wasn’t a normal, “OH.”

It was a defiant, you’re a low life scumbag, sort of Oh. In fact, I saw her look at the other check out girl who obviously had heard my reply and was focused on me, blinking rapidly. My first reaction was to say, “I mean no, not just a dollar. I would like to donate a thousand dollars to help the homeless animals, but I held my ground. I tried to break the mood by saying, “What’s the matter don’t homeless people like dogs?”

That did it. They were both now blinking, heads cocked, just standing there motionless. I had effected the entire cult. I grabbed my change and parrot food and ran for cover.

As I left the store I thought, where are these homeless animals anyway? Why have they become homeless? They were once simply stray animals. Now they are homeless.

I looked to see if some wayward dog or cat was hanging around the store front, begging for biscuits. No, the coast was clear. Then where are these homeless animals? My search began there and then. I would find these homeless animals. I would bring them back to Pet stupid to get their money and then help them invest the obvious thousand of dollars being held in trust for them.

On my journey I passed several homeless people. If only they could bark or meow I thought. They could be rich. But then they were mere humans. We had to find the homeless animals. I went to the inhumane society. They would certainly know where homeless animals hung out I thought.

As I walked in the doors I was stopped by the strong smell of feces mixed with Lysol. Wow that smells like my old school I thought. Already I was growing uncomfortable. In front of me blocking the entire front isle was what I first thought was a Jersey cow. It moved from side to side swaying like a cow. Then it spoke. It was a large woman in spandex. She was poking a rubber hand at a dog which was trying to eat. “What are you doing?” I asked her.

She looked back over her shoulder stretching to peer around the ever stressed spandex. If that breaks I thought we are all in trouble. “Testing” she replied. “I am testing this dog around food.”

She was poking and annoying the dog around food is what she was doing. “Ever have that done to you while your eating?” I asked her.

The answer was obvious. If she had, had it done, she would have devoured the rubber hand, stick and all. “I am looking for homeless animals,” I said proudly, cupping my hand to my heart.

“Any unclaimed animals are put to sleep,” she replied.

“To sleep?” I asked. “You mean you put them to bed?” I queried.

“NO!” she was mad now. The rubber hand was pointing my way. The little dog lunged forward for a bite in peace. “I mean put to sleeeeeep.”

Her eyes moved toward a large steel door which held a “NO Admittance” sign on it, in bright red letters.

“OH you kill them.” I answered.

“NO!’ She was snarling now as the rubber hand shook helplessly on the fragile stick. “We,” she hissed, “Like to say..put to sleep.”

“Do they ever wake up?” I asked as innocently as possible.

“What do you want?” she asked.

I want to take the homeless animals to Pet Stupid,” I said proudly.

“We don’t have any homeless animals.” She hissed.

“Yes, but I am sure your name was down as receiving monies on their behalf,” I stated.

Had I chanced onto some diabolical scheme to steal money from homeless animals? I would never know, as just then, the rubber hand came menacingly close to my nose.

“Sorry,” I whispered, “Wrong place.”

The little dog had finished the food so I felt that I had been of some help. My only thought was to return to Pet Stupid. Surely they would know where the money was going.

I pulled up in front of the large red sign that displayed the name of Pet Stupid. Funny, I thought, they mis-spelled their own name. Not to be detoured I again entered the store. All eyes were immediately upon me. “YES,” one woman snarled, “Can we help you?”

They all just stared at me. They had a hungry menacing look in their eyes. Just then I saw the hamster guy run past me shouting “He’s loose!”

“No,” I answered, “Better help that homeless hamster out there.”

I turned smiling for I had at least solved part of the mystery. It seems only Pet Stupid thinks the animals are homeless. The animals think they are free, or at least until the spandex lady gets them for her testing. Now… “Do you care to donate a dollar to help the homeless animals?”

To all our guys serving overseas our prayers are with you as we end each day. God Bless.

©08/15/05 Mike McConnery/Baden K-9 Incorporated

When we at Baden went looking for a vehicle that could stand up to our travel on and off the field, we found the new four door Jeep Wrangler. We are preparing to do a show for television so the look was also new and went with our type of training. Or so we thought.