THE PET STOP

THE LITTLE PET SHOPE OF HORRORS

by Sergio & Sky

An incredible story of the unbelievable measures that one lunatic took in trying to secure Little Ricky as a pet. It is a guinea pig adventure that you will not soon forget!

Hello. My name is Sergio. Actually, it's Sam but when one lives in balmy California, one must have a Hollywood-type name. That is how my name became Sergio.

I would like to share with you an incredible story that happened one summer day many years ago in my Southern California pet shop. For the obvious reasons, the name of my shop and the people surrounding these events will remain withheld.

The store was packed that day. Kitty liter was on sale and the two young lads that worked for me were busy loading trucks for customers. My other two sale's people were trying to whittle down the too-long lines. Like I said, it was a hot day and tempers tend to flare on hot days so we wanted to get people in and out as swiftly as possible.

I noticed a man, perhaps in his early thirties, investigating our guinea pig quarters. Eager to keep the customer satisfied, I approached him with a smile.

"Good day, sir. May I help you with something?" I inquired and as he whirled around in astonishment, the stranger's hand went up to scratch the top of his head rather ridiculously.

"Yeah," he began, removing his hand and silencing his scratch to point it towards Little Ricky. "I'm interested in purchasing this pig."

Pig, a rather insulting word. Nonetheless, merely a word. And Little Ricky, such a nice little guinea piglet! His coat was long and silky and he was the color of champagne. Not a biter, either. A most marvelous pet for some lucky person!

"Little Ricky," I echoed with a smile, going to extract him so that the stranger could get a better glance.

The stranger reached to extract him from my loving hands and I coached, "Gently, gently, gently….yes, that's it."

The stranger's next move was very predictable. He smiled. All the customers smile when they hold the pets. I was even smiling.

However, my brows shot together in aghast as the stranger suddenly shared, "Yes, he'll be perfect for Elmo my pet rat snake."

"I should say not!" I told him, swiftly rescuing Little Ricky from the stranger's evil hands. "Little Ricky is a guinea pig, not a potential lunch partner, sir!"

The stranger shook his head, then laughed deeply. "No, you've got it all wrong, um…Sarge."

Lovely; not only did the idiot want to cannibalize Little Ricky, he couldn't even pronounce my name correctly!

He continued, "Elmo needs a buddy, a pal. I plan to place Little Ricky in a cage beside of Elmo, so they can be neighbors. Elmo gets so lonely during the day."

Moron.

"Look, sir," I began with a sympathetic sigh as I replaced Little Ricky in his secure, safe container. "I think that it's wonderful that you are so concerned about Elmo's lonely state. Let me offer some alternative suggestions?"

"But, I want Little Ricky," he insisted. "We've already bonded."

I twitched my lips impatiently. "Sir, if you placed Little Ricky by Elmo, it would be as if someone placed you in a cage next to a cage of rattlesnakes."

"But I love snakes. ALL snakes," he insisted.

Again, I twitched my lips. "What I am trying to say, sir, is that guinea pigs and snakes aren't the best of mixers. Little Ricky would be terrified of Elmo." I paused and pointed to one area of the pet shop. "Note the precautions that we've put in place here at the pet store."

The stranger scratched his head and eased out, "I wondered what all those Chinese partitions were for."

"Yes, well now you know," I told him. "Now, please let me suggest something else for Elmo-"

"I want Little Ricky!" the stranger barreled out, quite intent. "Where is the store manager?"

"Speaking, sir."

"Sell me the pig, or you'll be sorry!" he threatened.

Visions of used dumped kitty liter in front of my shop filled my head.

"Sir, please listen to reason-"

At that he turned an left – much to my great relief! The last thing a respectable business needs is a wild commotion that terrifies guests.

I was a bit shaky after that and perhaps a lot more aware of my surroundings than I had been before my earlier encounter with the stranger who owned Elmo. It was getting late; the following day was Sunday, so things looked like they would blow over without incident. Not so.

About ten till closing, a patron entered the store capturing my attention by the rather awkward way she was walking. Her shoes were clad in red high heels. As my eyes drifted up the figure, they widened at their discovery. Elmo's master, complete with red lipstick and blond wig!!

'She' neared me. I stood frozen in time. Somewhere in the back of my mind, the words of Tom Jones filled my head, "She's a lady! Woah, woah, woah, she's a lady!"

My mouth was draped open a good two inches when Elmo's sultry master addressed me with, "Hello, handsome. Show me the pigs, please?"

Something inside of me snapped to life! This lunatic's ridiculous plan wasn't going to work, not if I had anything to do with it.

Applying a wide smile, I eased out, "Certainly, madam. Have you a specific color in mind?"

"Why, yaa-ess," the stranger exaggerated. "I'm looking for a champagne-colored pig."

"Perfect! We have one, too. His name is Little Ricky."

I led the unsuspecting moron back to Little Ricky's cage. We had no sooner arrived when the Jezebel eased out, "I'll take him!"

To my lifted brows, a quick explanation followed. "I realize you are closing and so I'm trying to hasten things a bit. Besides, Little Ricky is adorable!"

"Wonderful," I said. Jezebel beamed a smile that died as I continued, "You'll need to complete the short questionnaire, then we're all done."

"Hum? Questionnaire, you say?"

"Oh yes, madam. We are sticklers about potential pet owners. There's also some detailed instruction care sheets that we'll need to go over."

I collected the small stack as Jezebel made 'herself' comfortable. Everything was going smoothly. She had provided a name of Monica; the last name was indiscernible – a mere piece of hen scratch!

"Are we all done?" Monica asked, standing a bit wobbly and eyeing innocent Little Ricky with knowing eyes.

"Almost," I smiled. "I just need to see a photo ID so the information can be verified."

Monica Jezebel's eyes popped out on a stem. She looked like a King Crab dressed for a Saturday night on the town.

"What? Well – humph! I'll have to go get that from my car. I left the old purse there, you see."

I watched it leave the store with a thoughtful look pasted onto my face. Funny thing, but I never saw Monica again. As for Little Ricky, he got an extra portion of fresh veggies before I left that evening.

 Click Here to Return to Blossom Possum's Pet Tips

 Click Here to Return to Blossom Possum

 Click Here to Return to American Outback

 Click Here to Return to Outdoor Nature Hut

Click Here to Return to Into The Woods