Click all you want. Does not link to a cat video While I wasn’t really thinking about making a career move, the booming economy has tossed a number of opportunities my way. I keep a resume on Monster, just to see if anyone is willing to pay me to flip wisecracks and drink beer all day. So far no one has, but the other day I received this email:
Hi Richard,
I have an opening for a (sic) Animal Shelter Manager with National Cat Protection Society in Spring Valley, CA that I thought may interest you. If you'd like to proceed or learn more about this opportunity please follow the link below:
Animal Shelter Manager
National Cat Protection Society
Thanks for taking your time with this. If you feel this would be a better fit for someone you know please pass this message along.
Regards,
Dave Johnson
1112 Montana Avenue
Santa Monica, CA 90403
Not Interested. Unsubscribe Instantly
I was completely unaware of the Cat Protection Society up until this point. I thought the interests of cats were represented by the SPCA. But no—someone long ago once decided that the welfare of felines should not be commingled with that of common dogs, hamsters and bunnies. A separate power center had to be established, one that ignored puppy mills and racoon coats and other crimes committed against non-cat creatures and devoted itself solely to making sure every cat was fed, cleaned up after, and had at least one toy mouse and the opportunity to chase a laser dot for at least part of its life.
At first, I was intrigued. I liked the name—the Cat Protection Society. It sounded like an organization you could make an animated Disney film about—brave dogs, mice and parakeets, wearing cartoon detective hats or even capes, all consumed with the fervor to make the world better for cats, fighting a monstrous enemy, a Cruella de Kitties who lived only to make dire trouble in feline lives.
That’s for me, was my first reaction. Maybe I would even get a badge, a gun and a free hand to mess with people, like all the other cops have. Then I read the “duties” part of the communication. Overseeing the medical care of the resident cats would be tricky for me. I have no veterinary training and a serious aversion to touching sickly animals. The second task means scooping poop, pure and simple. Anyone can figure that out.
Instructing kennel personal would mean, first off, finding people who knew even less about cats than I do, in order for the crumbs of cat wisdom I could impart to them to have any useful impact. In this era of cat videos collecting billions of views on YouTube, that might be a challenge. I could hire uncontacted Amazonian tribespeople, I guess, but then there would be all kinds of immigration and language difficulties.
So, I decided against going into the cat protection racket. Then one of my gay friends sent me a text complaining about a week-long cat-sitting chore for which he had volunteered.
“I haven’t been this focused on pussy in a long time,” he groused.
So I forwarded the email to him.
Hi Richard,
I have an opening for a (sic) Animal Shelter Manager with National Cat Protection Society in Spring Valley, CA that I thought may interest you. If you'd like to proceed or learn more about this opportunity please follow the link below:
Animal Shelter Manager
National Cat Protection Society
- This position is for a working assistant manager who is responsible for supervising the kennel, supervising and training of the kennel personnel, ensuring the humane care of all cats at the shelter, and other tasks leading to full manager after six months.
- ESSENTIAL DUTIES AND RESPONSIBILITIES include, but not limited to the following.
- KENNEL - Oversee the medical care of all cats housed at the shelter
- Oversee and maintain the general cleanliness and sanitation of the shelter
- Instruct kennel personnel in proper and humane handling techniques of animals
Thanks for taking your time with this. If you feel this would be a better fit for someone you know please pass this message along.
Regards,
Dave Johnson
1112 Montana Avenue
Santa Monica, CA 90403
Not Interested. Unsubscribe Instantly
I was completely unaware of the Cat Protection Society up until this point. I thought the interests of cats were represented by the SPCA. But no—someone long ago once decided that the welfare of felines should not be commingled with that of common dogs, hamsters and bunnies. A separate power center had to be established, one that ignored puppy mills and racoon coats and other crimes committed against non-cat creatures and devoted itself solely to making sure every cat was fed, cleaned up after, and had at least one toy mouse and the opportunity to chase a laser dot for at least part of its life.
At first, I was intrigued. I liked the name—the Cat Protection Society. It sounded like an organization you could make an animated Disney film about—brave dogs, mice and parakeets, wearing cartoon detective hats or even capes, all consumed with the fervor to make the world better for cats, fighting a monstrous enemy, a Cruella de Kitties who lived only to make dire trouble in feline lives.
That’s for me, was my first reaction. Maybe I would even get a badge, a gun and a free hand to mess with people, like all the other cops have. Then I read the “duties” part of the communication. Overseeing the medical care of the resident cats would be tricky for me. I have no veterinary training and a serious aversion to touching sickly animals. The second task means scooping poop, pure and simple. Anyone can figure that out.
Instructing kennel personal would mean, first off, finding people who knew even less about cats than I do, in order for the crumbs of cat wisdom I could impart to them to have any useful impact. In this era of cat videos collecting billions of views on YouTube, that might be a challenge. I could hire uncontacted Amazonian tribespeople, I guess, but then there would be all kinds of immigration and language difficulties.
So, I decided against going into the cat protection racket. Then one of my gay friends sent me a text complaining about a week-long cat-sitting chore for which he had volunteered.
“I haven’t been this focused on pussy in a long time,” he groused.
So I forwarded the email to him.
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