The Doggie Ranch

Late last night I was watching that show called “Sober House” where a bunch of celebrities try to kick their addiction to drugs. On this particular episode was the infamous Heidi Fleiss known for being Hollywood’s most successful madam in history. As I was watching, it hit me; my life at the kennel had developed some similarities to Heidi’s and I’m not talking about her love for drugs and parrots, “Polly want a methamphetamine?” It was the sex brokering part that seemed oddly familiar. We were right smack in the middle of the breeding season and were so immersed in breeding dogs that I realized, without consciously knowing it; I had become a Pooch Pimp or more suitably a Canine Madam. I pondered this situation that I had unknowingly fallen into and realized I knew NOTHING about being a proper madam. I’ve always been an overachiever and if I was going to represent the oldest profession in the book, I needed to know PROPER protocol. Should I acquire a “Pimp Cup” or a “Grill”? In this case that would probably be a Pimp Ladle and mouthpiec.  Since I knew no one in the biz that could guide me, I turned to the internet for my degree in Pimping. Needless to say, the internet had nothing on running a doggie bordello so instead I referred to the human sort to see how it has been done for years.

As I entered the world of Pimpin 101, my ignorance in this profession quickly became evident. I realized that I was ill equipped to compete with the likes of Heidi Fleiss even in the doggy world. As they say in the Pimp world, I was a Pimperschnapps (pimp apprentice or pimp in training). Shoot, I learned there was even another language that I knew nothing about; the task at hand was not going to be an easy one. Despite the challenges ahead, I acquiesced to learning all that I could about properly running our kennel brothel. First step was to acquire a pimp name because every successful Canine Madam must have a name to remember. So Poochtastic Monica Schizzle it would be!

I acquired my name and The Schizzle was literally immersed in a weekend of managing multiple doggy with doggy encounters. I immediately began to struggle with the situation. I wasn’t sure if I should be ashamed or if I should be arrested. The more I got to thinking about it, the worse my situation seemed. We had just picked up a female at a pre-arranged meeting place just off the highway; doesn’t that sound shady? “Ok, Mr. Smith, we’ll meet you at exit 24 at the closed gas station to do the exchange. Bring the cash.” So we exchanged money and loaded the female in the truck and headed to the “The Doggie Ranch”. The poor girl had no idea her parents had selected her suitor and she was destined to do the wild thing with him whether she liked him or not. So are you starting to get that icky my skin is crawling type feeling? Good, because it gets worse.

On the internet I found there were instructions on how to be a female pimp. For example, the appropriate attire is a necessity for giving the right image. 4 inch heels and a Chanel suit are one option and the other was 4 inch heels with a bustier and skin tight pants. This would not do and frankly the clientele might worry that I was going to breed their prized bitch to a foofypoodle (no offense to you poodle lovers). Muck boots, carpenter pants and a black long sleeve shirt would have to suffice for the corporate image. I think our clientele will appreciate the no nonsense, down and dirty, practical look. I did ponder the idea of the 4 inch heels as I was almost convinced that poo would never stick to a stiletto like it does to a muck boot. However, I realized that the lack of balance caused by the stilettos would most likely result in poo in more places than my feet when I wiped out.

Another tip, the bordello should set the mood for the encounters that are about to happen. A bar is a must and dim lighting with soft music works real well too. Man, were we off the mark on this one. Our canine bordello possessed none of this. As a matter of fact, we threw that poor girl in a pen with a horny stud and the entire kennel, including us and some one year olds sat and watched in broad daylight. While the pair romped around the kennel, all the studs on the sidelines howled with envy; I guess that could be considered music. Things got a little crazy and she flirted playing hard to get. Well, the stud wanted no part of flirting; he had a job to do. He was a regular Mack Daddy if you will. I could just hear him thinking, “Boy, I can’t wait to wash her harness.” The way he handled her from there would get any human arrested. She was a snarky little fighter though and was going to have no part of being “stud handled” so she went for the face. I was secretly cheering her on…”Girl Power”. The stud was not fazed. Now the next part I’m ashamed to admit. Things were getting rough so me and Snake Eyes MagnussonSmooth proceeded to physically hold her so that stud boy could get the business done. She gave a respectable fight. It got so violent I wondered if I should be wearing leather chaps and carrying a whip for my corporate attire. I doubt if Heidi had to wrestle with her clientele.

I know, I know….pretty bad picture isn’t it? Well, just when you thought it couldn’t get worse; it did. As if the lack of romance wasn’t bad enough, we then proceeded to time the encounter and THEN we took pictures. Lord help me, all that college education so that I could also find myself dealing in pooch porn. I relayed to the owner how long the tryst was and then I e-mailed the photos. I am confident at this point the FCC is trying to find me by now.

The internet instructions indicate that you must advertise, but it must not be blatantly obvious. Well, we managed to mess that up too as we have a portion of our website dedicated to studs complete with photos and a price for services. I guess we can’t be any more obvious than that. At least I’m not advertising on Craig’s List.

We’re in so deep that I fear we may have engaged in trafficking. I’m pretty sure transporting pooches across state lines and even across the border for the purpose of canine delight would qualify as trafficking. Shoot, we even have a satellite office so the fun can go on 24/7 and we are more accessible to our southern clientele.

Wow, after confessing all of this on paper I feel the strong need to go to church. It’s a good thing that this pimpin stuff is seasonal, I don’t know if my conscience could handle it year round.

So the Schizzle has gotS to go ………. there’s a whole lotta pimpin yet to be done and I must start preparing for my next seasonal job; Puppy Daycare Operator!!!

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