I’m pleased to report that passing through security with a pig in your arms is easier than doing so without one: you get to keep your shoes on and skip the full-body scanner.
Back in 1993, famously, on the Internet, nobody knew you were a dog. Times have clearly changed.
Two decades later, interested parties not only know you’re a dog, they also have a pretty good idea of the color of your fur, how often you visit the vet, and what your favorite doggy treat is.
I forgot, how exactly he phrased it, but it went something like this:
There isn’t anything magical about what we do. We spend time with the dogs. We feed them regularly, we play and interact with them and we make sure they have quiet and peace at night and when they are tired.
It has been a few years since that first conversation. Our dog has stayed at the ranch numerous times and it has always been a very good experience. She usually gets excited, when we are driving up and she recognizes the environment. Of course she prefers our company, but she does seem very happy there. When we go on a trip without her and leave her at the ranch, we feel good about her being there. I like to think that she is having a vacation of her own.
Then I often think back to that first conversation. They follow a simple approach and it works really well. This does take commitment and consistency on the ranch owners’ part. They have to spend a lot of time with their guests and vacations or days off have become rare for them. Making things simple can be hard work.
The results can be amazing.
The language of money is a powerful tool, and it is also a tool of power. Incomprehension is a form of consent. If we allow ourselves not to understand this language, we are signing off on the way the world works today—in particular, we are signing off on the prospect of an ever-widening gap between the rich and everyone else, a world in which everything about your life is determined by the accident of who your parents are.