A Dog-Gone Good Idea Helps Locate Lost Pets

Each year, 10 million families are afflicted, the company tells us. In San Diego County, there were 55,000 victims last year alone. The recovery rate is tragically negligible. Chances of survival are grim “on the streets or in overcrowded shelters.”

Purina Puppy Chow to the rescue!

The giant pet food producer has set up a toll-free, lost-pet hot line manned 24 hours a day, seven days a week. Operators are standing by! They are awaiting your calls! For a small fee, pet owners can register their animals with the nationwide network.

In return, they receive a special Purina collar and tag carrying an I.D. number and the toll-free number. When Fluffy splits, a finder can call the hot line. The operators immediately consult their files and contact the bereaved owner.

On Wednesday, Purina comes to a Poway elementary school to introduce its program to San Diego County. The well-oiled campaign includes thick packets of media releases and a visit from a Purina employee and his cockapoo, Miss Jenny, to an assembly at Midland Elementary.

Miss Jenny’s owner is Brian Lynch, a 31-year-old former liquor wholesaler from Texas. Her short-lived departure several years ago prompted Lynch to set up a local lost-pet network, then Purina hired him to run the program.

Of course, there’s something in it for Purina.

To register, one must buy a package of Purina Puppy Chow, fill out the registration form on the back and send in $6.95. Fifty cents out of that goes to the local humane society as a donation; the rest goes into the lost-pet program and Purina.

As for promoting pet food in schools, a Purina spokesman says it’s kosher.

“Basically, we’re out to protect their dogs and cats,” he said, adding that children “don’t make the purchasing decisions. It’s an educational program, it’s a good-will gesture. This is all part of a community relations program.”

The Beefcake Beat

“Looking for a few good men,” reads the half-page ad in the monthly newspaper of the Los Angeles Police Protective League (LAPPL). If you happen to be one, the ad suggests calling San Diego Police Agent Donovan Jacobs.

Jacobs is the officer whose partner, Thomas Riggs, was killed by Sagon Penn in a shooting two years ago today. In Penn’s heavily publicized murder trials, Jacobs has been called upon to defend himself against charges of overly aggressive behavior.

Now, Jacobs is producing the 1988 “LA’s Finest” police calendar, described by the LAPPL president as “tastefully done beefcake.” Jacobs characterizes the undertaking as a personal business venture and a litmus test for other cities.

“I think the LAPD (calendar) will have nationwide appeal,” Jacobs optimistically opined. If the calendar is a success, Jacobs hinted that he might be interested in expansion on a national scale.

The calendar, modeled on an earlier San Diego version executed by Jacobs, is to sell for $8.95. One dollar of that will go to the LAPPL’s fund for the widows of officers killed on duty. After expenses, the rest goes to Jacobs.

In the prototype, officers wore tuxedos, hunting vests, hockey protective padding and such, said George Aliano, LAPPL president. He said the LA version will be slightly more risque: “The only comments from wives of police officers was that his calendar had too many clothes.”

Relaxed Electricity

Something peculiar is happening in La Jolla.

Intec Research and Development, a private research firm, claims that it has discovered a way of taking the disorder, or “stress and strain,” out of electricity. Thus, Intec officials contend that they can improve performance of TVs, computers and all electrical equipment.

So, during April, they say they will hook their computer to an electrical outlet in La Jolla. As they say, “Intec will demonstrate the existence of this ‘stress and strain’ by removing it from all of the electricity in San Diego County.”

County residents can expect to experience more energy, creativity and comfort, said Kevin Slade, director of research and development. Over at San Diego Gas & Electric Co., officials have said only that they are “curious.” Two engineers told a reporter that, while it is possible to “clean up” electricity by eliminating power surges, they were unfamiliar with Intec’s new-age terminology.

Discount on Silence

One of the latest gimmicks to endear telephone customers to AT&T; is something called the San Diego AT&T; Local Opportunity Card. It entitles select customers to discounts this spring at nearly 50 restaurants and services in the county.

There’s a free hour in a limousine, a ski-school discount and a free initial consultation with a personal-injury lawyer. For edification, AT&T; is generously providing 20% off the price of up to four tickets to the San Diego Symphony.

That’s right, the bankrupt one. The one that no longer exists.

“It doesn’t?” said Marilyn Terry, an AT&T; “communicator,” through her headphones in Jacksonville, Fla., sounding surprised. “It’s a wonder that none of our customers have called!”