Animal Internet

The people I live with decided to hire a pet waste collection service, one of those companies that send someone to the house a few times a week to clean up after a dog’s morning constitutional.  I wish my humans would tell me in advance when they arrange for things like this. It almost turned into some major vet bills.

Here’s what happened - I’m laying on the porch daydreaming about other porches I’ve daydreamed on when suddenly a little skinny guy smelling like a dog park comes through the gate and starts wandering across the lawn with an empty bag.  A burglar, I thought.  Not on my watch!  I started barking and bee-lining my way to his behind when he starts yelling, “Don’t bite!  I’m cleaning the yard!  I’m just doing my job!”

I stopped just before my incisors made cheek contact.  Job?

He explained what that job entailed and it quickly became clear that a new business partnership was staring me in the eyes. 

I have no problem with others cleaning up my leavings.  Knock yourself out.  Everybody needs a hobby.  But here was a guy about to make money off MY leavings while I got nothing?  That didn’t seem fair.  Without my golden eggs this farmer had nothing to collect.  I wanted a cut.

To his credit, Nagi (that was his name) saw my point immediately.  It took most of the afternoon but we were able to work out a deal: I will eat less food from now on so there’ll be much less waste and in return he’ll give me 20% of his take.  He makes 80% of the money for doing about half the previous work and I get paid to lose weight. 

That, my friends, is called a win-win.