Wanted:

Every day I get up at five. I attempt to scoop poop, though more gets on me than in my bucket. I attempt to feed dog kibble to 45 excited dogs- more gets down my boots than into the feed pans. Then I attempt to water- more gets down my legs than in the water dishs. Why do I do this you ask? All because I responded to an ad in the paper, thinking it was a total joke:

Dog Handler Wanted:
Easy-going and flexible person with a strong back to work 7 days a week, 12 to 14 hours per day hauling dog poop. Must provide own attire, which will be destroyed. Pay: approximately $2 per hour. Overtime hours expected - no overtime pay. We provide room and board so you can be on call 24 hours per day. If employed in summer, must be adept at pulling out porcupine quills and feel comforable coated in mud with no shower available. Must never get grouchy or discouraged. Must never question our sanity. Food provided, but cooking skills and light eaters are a plus.

But now that I'm here, I guess they were serious... AAHH, the life of a dog handler.







(The general ad in this was based on a dog sled sports aritcle.)