Poochonomics
Katherine Campbell is my new hero. She punk’d the Bank of Queensland in style. She applied for a secondary card for her cat Messiah. What a lovely name. And, the bank actually issued it. The media frenzy lasted at least half a news cycle.
The story ended with a whimper. The bank apologized, cancelled the cat’s card, and all the Masters of the Universe went back to a feline free world of finance.
Would I have had the courage to take this to the next level? Would I have the nerve to hang the card in an ID pouch around the Yoda’s neck, go shopping and hand over the plastic to be swiped? What a delicious idea – to offer a paw print when presented with the charge slip.
Would I have the chutzpah?
What would the legal status be? The card would be legitimate, and guaranteed by me. The bank that issued the card would obligated to honor it. Could I sue in case an outlet refused to accept the card?
Ever since Ayesha became a lawyer, that is one of the first questions that pops into my head. Whom can I sue? Who has the deepest pockets? Where is the most sympathetic jury likely to be found? Can I find a way to weave ‘If it doesn’t fit, you must acquit’ into my closing arguments?
I am told that members of the Royal Family never ever carry money on their person. It’s all done behind the scenes, by a faithful retainer who either flashes a wad, or brandishes ‘Kohinoor Diamond’ cards. I don’t think they ask for discounts, though I am sure the Royal Warrant entitles them to some free stuff.
I have seen P.Diddy walk into a store, airily pick up a few doodads, and sweep out, leaving his butler to negotiate the payment, and discount. Royalty comes in all forms these days.
I think that pets are like Royalty. They never carry filthy lucre on their person. They are confident that we little people are ready to deal with such details. No muddying their hands with commerce. No bothering with charge slips, statements, minimum payments, and APRs.
One of these days I am sure they will find a way to give the pooch his plastic. It will probably be a microchip on his tail, with a direct debit link to our bank account. We humans will still need to whip out our cards and swipe. All he will do is wag his tail, and kerchunk, the cash register rings, the message travels through the ether, and the next time time I go the ATM, the machine swallows my card as a chorus of bankers sing ‘ Maxed out, Maxed out, He’s very maxed out’.
When spring comes around, young people’s minds turn to love, the 30s crowd do their taxes, and people of a certain age do their Wills. We decided to do them some time ago, and Ayesha sent us the paperwork. A key question was ‘How do you want to provide for Yoda?’ The protocol is that you should specify an amount, so that the pet can be maintained in the style that he has been accustomed to. Hah!
Mina and I sat down to do the numbers. Didn’t get very far, I am sorry to say. There are only two ways to do this. Either trust that the pet will be looked after. Or specify details that when made public will establish you permanently as a Loony Tunes. I do want to be remembered, but not as the pet profligate.
So, does Yoda care about all this? Naah. No plastic for him. No pictures of dead Presidents. For him, the best things in life are free
Feb 20, 2009 | | Book