Her mother sighed.
Sandi sighed, too. “We’ve had this conversation more times than I can count. I always wanted to own my own business. You know that.”
“But it’s such a risk. If you weren’t so tied down by all of this”—she gestured around the room with her hand—“you could still be out looking for another job with a big company. Look at me. I’m coming up on twenty years. I’ve got health insurance. A 401(k). Stock, too.” Her mother leaned forward. “And when I do retire, because I’ve been there so long and been a loyal employee, I’ll have a lifetime discount.”
“That’s what you’ve worked twenty years for?”
Her mother’s mouth pursed. “Don’t be so smart-alecky, miss know-it-all. You’re a single woman now and you’re over thirty years old. You need to be thinking about things like that.”
Sandi had only one of those benefits her mother had just ticked off—a health insurance policy for which she paid a fortune. Even with its coverage, a serious illness or accident could destroy her. And retirement? She had cashed in her 401(k) and used the money to start LaBarkery. Was her mother right? Should she be out pounding the pavement looking for a “big company” job?
“Thirty-two isn’t ancient, Mom. If you’ll recall, when I decided to start LaBarkery, I had used up all of my unemployment and I wasn’t hitting a home run with job hunting. You know how many résumés I sent out. It must’ve been five hundred. I traveled to a hundred fruitless interviews. You know all of that. And you also know I had reached a point where I had to do something.”
“But you’re a college graduate, Sandi. The only one in our family. You could’ve found a job if you hadn’t been so particular.”
Everyone in Sandi’s blue-collar family stood in awe of her graduating from college, but at the same time, they felt resentment. “Wanting a job I liked was being particular? There were plenty of times I hated that job at that bank, Mom, but I believed it would take me somewhere. I worked hard and was a good employee, which got me nothing. I still work hard, but at least I’m doing something I love.”
The idea of gourmet pet food had come to her from out of nowhere while standing in the Walmart pet food aisle in front of the refrigerator shopping for fresh food for her cats, Lucy and Ethel. She had always loved cooking and creating in the kitchen, considered herself a good cook. Once, she had loved cooking for her man.
Lesson learned: Pets were more loyal than either of her men ever had been.
The second idea of serving highly nutritious pet food as hand-decorated treats had rushed at her as if it was meant to be. She had gone home and spent the next three days studying dog and cat nutrition. By the end of the next week, she had experimented and developed half a dozen recipes and figured out how to decorate them.
Since then, with no help or encouragement from her family, she had daily filled her display cases with fancy treats so artfully decorated they tempted even humans. Her customers’ pets ate healthier than most people.
“You know, Mom, I’m starting to add special healthy treats for other pets besides dogs and cats. And I’m in the process of copyrighting all of my recipes and trademarking the names. Eventually, I’m going to market them online.”
Her mother’s head shook again. “I don’t know, Sandi. I just can’t imagine people paying the kind of money you charge for fancy pet food. It’s so unnecessary.”
That was the crux of her mother’s misunderstanding. Growing up, Sandi’s brothers and sister, even Sandi herself, had always had dogs and cats around. While their parents had never abused or mistreated the various animals, they would have never spent the money for gourmet treats or homemade dog food for them.
“How can you say that? Healthy animal food is not unnecessary. It gives pets more energy and saves pet owners money on vet bills.”
“Well, I don’t want to argue,” her mother said righteously.
“Animals deserve good food the same as people do. How would you like to eat that crap they sell in grocery stores or some of the pet stores?”
“Sandi. I do eat that crap they sell in grocery stores. Every day. And you ate it, too, all of your life. You’re still eating it. So don’t act so high and mighty.”
“You know what I mean,” Sandi grumped. “Why can’t you be glad I came up with something that’s working?”
“I just know I’d never pay what you charge for dog food.
“Really? You bought that Starbucks drink, didn’t you? You could’ve brewed coffee at home, put it in a blender with ice and a little milk and added a little bit of caramel sauce and turned it into exactly what you’re drinking. It would have cost half the money you paid for it at Starbucks. Maybe less than a dollar.”
Her mother gave her a pursed mouth look and sucked up the last of her Caramel Frappachino. “It’s a special treat. I don’t do it every day.”
“Well, some people do. Whether you like it or not, pet owners like giving special treats to their animals. And they aren’t hesitant in spoiling them. They’re willing, even eager, to lay down cold hard cash or credit cards to pay for those treats and special food for their four-legged children. And the price seems to be no obstacle. Nor is a lack of money.”
“Maybe so, but I don’t understand it.”
“I do. Pets love you unconditionally. Stop and think about it, Mom. Did Morris ever steal your checkbook and overdraw your checking account? Has he ever called you in the middle of the night for bail money?”
“Now you’re being silly. Morris is your dad’s dog.”
“Silly or not, that’s exactly what Jason did. I remember it. You had
