A pop quiz: Which job is safer? A member of a Marine bomb squad in Iraq and Afghanistan (“The Hurt Locker” is Bruno’s Oscar pick for best picture, by the way), or general manager of LA’s Department of Animal Services?
Watching the movie can be nerve rattling. Watching someone try to run Animal Services can be quite entertaining.
Talk about a no-win job. But if you’re interested, it’s open and the only specified qualification is having a driver’s licensei’ although I’d say a permit to carry a concealed weapon is also essential
“Francis of Assisi would have trouble in this town,” Bill Dyer, a veteran animal welfare advocate told the Dog Trainer (this is too easy), invoking the patron saint of animals (he’s my favorite) more than once when speaking of the general manager’s job.
As a one-time homeless dog, I don’t pretend to be objective on this subject. Well, OK, I don’t pretend to be objective on any subject. But this one involves what’s called a “no-kill” policy!
Grrrrrr!
The Dog Trainer says “the successful candidate must be compassionate but business-minded, able to inspire the army of staffers who care for the city’s abandoned animals and lost pets; to survive interrogation by the L.A. City Council; and to appease the legions of devoted volunteers, rescuers and advocates in the city’s humane community.”
Add masochistic to the list.
The last guy, who quit last June, was raked over the coals by just about everybody and nearly lynched by his employees. The GM before him – who lasted just 13 months – had the lobby of his building smoke-bombed by animal activists.
Wondering where to apply yet? Here’s what the Trainer says you’ll face:
“The city hired a search firm, sent an e-mail survey to 450 so-called stakeholders in the animal welfare system and set up a focus group. In what one source called ‘a brainstorming session,’ the mayor met with a small group of animal welfare experts — including ‘dog whisperer’ Cesar Millan and Francis Battista, one of the founders of Best Friends Animal Society, a national animal-protection nonprofit that runs its own sanctuary.”
Cesar? That’s my favorite show, after “American Idol”
Antonio makes the final decision, of course. And I’ll bet you a steak bone that his current girlfriend, beauty queen turned TV reporter Lu Parker, might get involved. After all, her pooch, the adorable Monkey, was recently photographed romping in the mayor’s backyard.
I guess I don’t have to tell you how I feel about “no kill.” After all, if Ron’s wife, Saint Deborah, didn’t take me in after finding me in their shrubs, I probably would have ended in my own version of “Dead Dog Walking.” Given my appearance, I doubt anybody not in a street gang would have considered making me the family pet.
But for this to work – and for the next GM to last more than a year with his life – it’s essential you guys help dogs like me practice birth control. And don’t count my kind to practice any of your tricky human maneuvers. “Don’t worry, honey, I’ll know when … “
Get us fixed now! It’s cheap or free and, take it from me, it only hurts for a minute or two.
If for no other reason, do it for the mayor. He’s got his hands full with the city’s financial crisis.
Thought I was going to make a smart-ass remark about his sex life, didn’t you?
Woof!
I’m not as tackful as you, Bruno. I wouldn’t hesitate to make a few wise-ass sexual innuendos.
Like, no bones about it, the mayor knows where his bones are and buried; he’s a horn-dog; he goggedly dogs pretty TV ladies; he won’t admit it when he makes a boner; he’s boning up on getting a new animal regs manager. Maybe a pretty TV gal would like to bark up that tree and apply. I heard the fringe benefits are marvelous.
Your friend,
G. Shepherd
I’m not as tackful as you, Bruno. I wouldn’t hesitate to make a few wise-ass sexual innuendos.
Like, no bones about it, the mayor knows where his bones are and buried; he’s a horn-dog; he doggedly dogs pretty TV ladies; he won’t admit it when he makes a boner; he’s boning up on getting a new animal regs manager. Maybe a pretty TV gal would like to bark up that tree and apply. I heard the fringe benefits are marvelous.
Your friend,
G. Shepherd
Oh Bruno, you really are such a good doggie.
But, don’t you know that some resignations translate to “quit or resign” in peopletalk? Better that than the mayor having to fire a human he hired and having to admit he made a mistake. You know Tony V would never admit to that!
Mr Boks acquired a long list of no-no’s before he got the axe. The final curtain call was a combo plate of a law suit settlement and a phony contract for snip it services.
And what’s this about the mayor getting advice from Best Friends–once the Process Church of the Final Judgement (reportedly a satanic cult)? Don’t think BF doesn’t have a paw in the cookie jar. They get a lion’s share of the city funds for making boys out of men. But never fear, according to the church, the dogs will know when the end is near.
Oh, Bruno, you are my kind of dog!!!!!
Hey, Spike here from Philly. Yeah, we tried that “No Kill” crap here too, and I’m here to tell ya how it turned out. People refer to it as “overcrowded”, hell, it was more than that. The only thing good was that they had to put other dogs (I’m a proud pit bull) with me and well, needless to say, I did what I do best. Should have heard the screams when the people walked in the next morning, but they got use to it and just calmly cleaned up the mess. And considering that when these people were finally caught, we pits were 95% of the population and the people finally gave up. And I heard that a decade of focusing on adoptions (no kill) has set the humane effort back into the dark ages. Numbers aren’t looking as good as they did 10 years ago. Not my problem, my problem is finding a home. Then again, someone out there is saying there are plenty of homes, there ain’t no pet overpopulation. Well, could have fooled me, I been sitting here for a couple of years. When will this home come about? Here in LA, youse pits have it made. Youse got that Milan guy who has a disclaimer on his TV show, I like that guy, he teaches me to wait for my chance to do what I do best. I’m proud of the fact that I can forecast the end of the world and that Best Friends recognizes that. I’ll send them a telegram. From what I hear no one would want the job in LA, seems the kooks there do a good job of shooting themselves in the foot, hope they are a good shot because they only have two. They don’t call it LaLa Land for nuthin.
Very well-written. Great post.