WILD THING, I THINK I’LL RENT YOU…Ah, love. Squid likes it for Squidself. Squid’s happy hearing about lucky saps who’ve made it work. And Squid’s even enjoyed watching some squishy public displays of affection underneath the pier. But Squid draws the line at orchestrating sex and charging money to see it.

Not so the folks at Wild Things Animal Rentals, Inc., in Salinas, who both last weekend and this one, are promoting their “1st annual Valentine’s Day ‘Mating Game Tours.’” The press release promises that the 18-and-older event will show “what our wild friends are doing at night,” and also give human adult couples the chance to participate in “a hilarious fun-filled ‘mating game.’ This is a scored event tastefully orchestrated by the Wild Things staff with a chance to win an overnight stay for two in our safari B&B.”

Squid’s happy to hear that the human mating game will be “tasteful.” There’s nothing worse than a distasteful mating game played by a bunch of adults paying $ to watch monkeys do it. (Squid wonders: what if the animals aren’t in the mood? Is the staff prepared to supply fluffers, perhaps Ranger Rick magazines, to frigid lions?) The Wild Things Website describes the business as “an animal rental company dedicated to providing professionally and humanely trained wild/exotic and domestic birds and animals for film, television, live productions, education and much more. If we don’t have it, we’ll find it, just ask!” Hmmm…Squid’s thinking he’d like to rent a baby Bengal tiger for his new anenome apartment. And maybe a crocodile, just a small one—easier to flush down the toilet that way. Or, better, maybe someone wants to rent Squid, and watch Squid and Squidette go at it! Squid can see it now: Squid’s grainy, night-vision video all over the Web. Paris Hilton’s got nothing on this cephalopod. Squid’ll start working on Squid’s porn name. How about: Wild Thing.

SHILOH YOU ALWAYS CAME, THEN YOU DIED…Everybody now, in your best Neil Diamond voice, “when no one else would come…” Apparently the Herald’s new, pricey, pay-to-play obit policy (include every minute detail of your loved one’s life, so long as you’re rich!) doesn’t only apply to humans. In the daily rag’s Feb. 9 issue, there’s a 15—count ‘em—15-line obituary for a dog, or it may be a wolf, with a big picture, who was named Shiloh. Squid can only guess Diamond’s classic hit had something to do with the deceased’s name.

Shiloh was Linda, Dave and Lobo’s “beautiful, sensitive companion, whose exquisite coquettish grace and free spirit imprinted our hearts and soul from the day she was born.” (Squid’s guessing that Lobo is also a dog, or maybe a wolf.)

To repeat Squidself, Shiloh’s got 15 lines, not counting “In Memory of Shiloh,” and a picture that runs the full length of the text. That’s eight lines more than the Herald’s standard obit (for humans, the first seven lines only are still free. “I like dogs, but if my loved one’s obit ran next to one for a dog, I’d be angry and insulted,” says one of Squid’s loyal readers. Squid only hopes Squid’s friends will pony up the cash when Squid’s time comes.