Crime of the Month is More Like It

Several weeks ago, I've unearthed a scandal in the pet sitting company I work for. I called the Metro section of The Washington Post and, after being bounced around to a few people, spoke with Mike Allen, an investigative reporter who was in the middle of a story on Iraq's missing WMDs. He dropped that story for this one.

The article will appear tomorrow, either on the front page or printed in the speech balloons of the next two weeks of Garfield, but here is the gist.

Every month, the company owner sends a email to all the employees and asks them to nominate a dog for Dog of the Month. The dog with the most votes wins and gets his or her picture posted on the company's web site.

Or, I should say, in a real democracy the dog with the most votes would win. In the sick world of Pooch Pals, Inc. whatever dog curries the Emperor's favor gets appointed.

The process is a complete sham. The decision makers are not the people but an oligarchy consisting of the owner and her family members that make up the desk staff.

Take this month's dog, Scout, for example. To the average person visiting the web site, Scout is an adorable white-haired terrier with wide eyes and an inquisitive look. He is four years old, playful, and likes to chew on old socks.

What that person doesn't know is that the owners paid off the judges and Scout is on 'roids. He has four first-place ribbons and a third-place ribbon from dog shows in the past six months, all while doped up on poppers and running high on psychacetlatimine and hormone boosters. The dog pees green and puts a dent in the ground when he poops.

Naïve that I am, I challenged Scout's appointment before realizing the machinations that went on behind the surface. I sent my manager an email diplomatically suggesting that all future Dogs of the Month be tested for steroids. She responded questioning my fitness for employment. Message received. Either drink the Kool-Aid or head for the door.

Once the article comes out, I am sure my termination will be swift. My employment prospects are unknown, but that's secondary. When a great injustice has been committed, there is only one course of action: to speak out.

And to kidnap the dog and hide him in a detox program. Our prayers are with you, Scout!