For the rich and trendy, a cocker spaniel just doesn't cut it anymore.
How could they walk around with just a common pooch at the end of their leashes like any other schlub? To them, much like flashy furniture or avant garde fashion, pets could be used as a status symbol; a way to tell the rest of the world, "Look at me and my nonconformist domesticated animal, and shower me with envy."
It started simply enough. A mini pot-bellied pig here, a brightly colored macaw there. But soon, one species/one body couldn't cut it. Before we could realize what was happening, words like "labradoodle" and "puggle" had become part of our everyday vocabulary. Designer pets were the new Italian sports car.
As with every trend, however, the rare and chic soon became commonplace. Designer pets were popping up in random pet stores sandwiched between an Arby's and a car wash.
The rich and trendy are panicking. They must look elsewhere, and be willing to go further in their never-ending quest to have the best pet money can buy. And, as usual, I'm here to provide the answers.
Here is the first installment of what we here at Pale Writer Industries have dubbed "Hybranimals":
The glaring problem with your average poodle is that it's weak. If confronted with, say, a Bengal tiger or even a lone wildebeest, a poodle would probably not emerge as the dominant species in the food chain.
A crocodile, on the other hand, has the pointy teeth and sub-river stealth maneuvering capability to win a fight against most foes of the jungle or Savannah. But try attaching it to a leash for a leisurely stroll through the park. At best you'll terrify the local children, and at worst you'll ruin your good standing with the neighbors after they witness an 1,100-pound lizard murdering their bull terrier.
Enter the Crocopoo. The self-defense and cunning of a crocodile, but tempered with the good nature and non-desire-to-kill-everything of a poodle. Plus, if it gets hit by a bus or something, you can turn it into a handbag or shoes with its own soft lining. So there's that.
Unless you're a drug dealer, wacky Australian zoological buff, or severely misguided and unsupervised teenager, it never seems proper to own a large snake as a pet. They're creepy, you can't really pet them, and you have to be the engineer of a pretty large-scale rodent holocaust just to feed them over the course of a year.
Elephants, also, make for ridiculous pets. If you have the room to house them and the money for the upkeep, then you're either way too rich or Michael Jackson. For everyone else, imagine the chaos that would ensue if you tied an elephant up in your backyard. At the very least, that "frog spitting running water into a fountain" sculpture that your wife picked up on your recent trip to El Paso is going to be destroyed.
To provide a happy medium, then, we have the Elephython. All of the excitement of owning an elephant, minus the messy clean-up and tendency to stampede precious possessions and loved ones.
Ever wish that your cat did something more than just stare at you with unabashed, naked contempt? Ever wish your microwave were more cuddly and would actually respond when you dangle a toy mouse in front of it? Then a Microcat is right for you.
Think about it. No more inconvenient trips to the microwave to heat up a burrito when you just want to spend some quality time avoiding the scratches of your cat. No more shedding or hairballs; just delicious, toasty treats served up faster than you can say, "Dear mother of Christ what did you do to Whiskers??!!"
Ferrets are filthy creatures. They smell, chew up furniture and newspapers, and knock over drinks that you've prepared to help ease the pain of a job that leaves you staring into the vacuousness of your dissatisfied soul once five o'clock comes and you trudge back home. At that point, surrounded by spills and disappointment, you probably wish your ferret was at least more absorbant, right?
Well you're in luck, now that you can pick up a Shamferret*. Picture the adorable little rat-face of a ferret combined with the jaw-dropping absorbency of ShamWow**! Never again will you be left struggling to sop up your spills because you just ran out of the last of the paper towels, torn between the equally pathetic choices of digging into the pile of dirty laundry or leaving the spill to dry and form a hard shell on your floor. Just scoop up the Shamferret, be amazed at how quickly and thoroughly that spill soaks up, and go back to medicating yourself with alcohol. And don't mistake its squeals as a sign of protest; that's how you know it's working.
*This product has not yet been approved by the FDA and is under vehement protest by PETA, the ASCPA, the Catholic Church, and pretty much everybody else who cares about animals and still hates Michael Vick.
**Product not actually associated with ShamWow in any legally binding form whatsoever. Please don't sue me, ShamWow Guy. Or beat the hell out of me like you did that hooker.