Make your dog work for you

This story was originally published on rantrave.com in 2010.

          "I've found the most reliable business partner in the world," says Millie Harris, one of Surrey's most remarkable entrepreneurs. "When we decided to take a puppy, we would never have guessed that he would double our family savings!" She's talking about her dog Ollie, who is a professional waiter and entertainer.

          We're sitting in her suburban living room with French doors that lead to a spacious garden. Millie sees me look at a large painting of a boy and girl with a big blond dog. "We knew Ollie was good with kids. That was the main reason why we wanted a Golden Retriever. They are always up for a cuddle and eager to learn new tricks."

          "One day, my husband, who is a builder, came home from work and he was absolutely knackered. He sat down, switched on the telly and told me to get him a beer. Ollie immediately followed me to the kitchen. When I opened the fridge, he looked at me with those big eyes, as if he was asking: 'Shall I do it?' I thought it would be a laugh, so I put the can between his jaws and sent him back in."

          "Two weeks later, Ollie demonstrated his trick on my birthday party. Not everybody likes drool on their cans, but the idea of having a dog butler was a major hit. One of my friends asked if I could teach Ollie to pull a trolley on his wedding reception. We taught him some more tricks, and before we knew it, our dog was performing every weekend." Millie lovingly pets the blond Labrador that's sitting next to her. "He's fully booked until August next year. A London-based company even tried to book him for a fundraising dinner in 2014. But we've said no. We can't predict the future. Right, Ollie?"

          When Millie goes to the kitchen to put the kettle on, Ollie follows her immediately. I half expect the dog to come back offering me a soggy biscuit. But he's a professional now, and he doesn't work on weekdays. Millie has to carry the tea tray herself and sits down again on the sofa. "As a builder, my husband knows what it's like to start your own business, so he does all the paperwork. All I did was make sure we chose the best dog insurance in the UK. Of course we already had one to cover the vet's fee. But when your dog is pulling trolleys full of wine glasses, you do want third party liability coverage. Even though we've got a clause in the contract that says that all accidents are the client's responsibility. Fortunately, we haven't had to use our dog insurance yet." Ollie yawns and settles down for a little nap.

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          "As for marketing... word of mouth is working very well for us. We wouldn't even be able to deal with the requests we'd get if we would start a website!"

Of mice and kittens: dealing with friends that don't make sense

Raised by foster pigeons, worried by a creaky branch, our fluffy Baby Owl set out on a quest for wisdom.
“But where do I start looking?” asked a squeaky voice.
Baby Owl stopped and dropped mid-air. What was that?
Just before she hit the ground, she flapped her wings and started flying circles around the spot where she'd heard the voice. It wasn't me, she wondered, was it? Am I hearing voices?
She almost started to doubt herself, when she saw a field mouse scuttle away. “Where is it?” the mouse muttered.
I'm not alone! Baby Owl thought. She landed on a bush near the mouse, flattened her feathers and hooted: “You know you've really lost something when you don't even know where to start looking.”
She was trying to sound a lot smarter than she was - what she really meant to say was: We could be friends and search together!
“Oh hello there, wise young Owl,” squeaked the mouse. “You don't happen to know the way to kittencamp do you?”
“To kittencamp?” Baby Owl asked. “Do you need some help killing kittens?”
“Oh no! It's a meetup of geeks.”
If Owls could frown, Baby Owl certainly would be have been frowning now. For want of eyebrows, a face of wide eyed surprise sufficed. “Why is it called kittencamp?”
“Because everyone loves cats,” squeaked the mouse.

It must have been quite a sight: in a wide field of long yellow grass, perched a scrawny bush, an owl hooting at a tiny mouse. The sun was setting when the mouse admitted that he'd never met a real cat.
“It is my dream to make a puss purr.” The mouse made a purring sound. “That is the one thing I really want to achieve in my life.”
“Why don't you join me on my quest for wisdom?” said Baby Owl. “By the sounds of it, you could do with some.”
“In the words of the great Kanye West: I don’t take offense to anything anybody says about me at this point.”
“The great who?”
“School spirit motherfuckers!” The mouse jumped up on his hind legs and performed a funny dance. “Alpha, step. Omega, step. Kappa, step. Sigma, step. Gangstas walk, pimps gon' talk. Oooh hecky now that boy is raw!”
“Oh,” said Baby Owl, “Of course. Either way, I don't understand how I managed to lose my wisdom. It must have escaped through the first crack in the egg.”
“But why would you want to be wise,” asked the mouse, “when you can be cute like a kitten?”