Some folks in Atlanta are doing mouth-to-mouth doggie style.

The Atlanta Journal-Constitution has a rather weird story about pet owners who are learning how to give man's best friend CPR. Someone from the local humane society teaches the class -- and I've gotta tell you --- this in one bizarre first aid lesson.

Somewhere in Georgia, there's a room full of pet lovers making complete lip to snouth contact with their furry critters. I've been around some folks with bad breath in my day, but can you imagine giving CPR to a dog that's just eaten Kibbles-N-Bits?

And it's a proven fact that canines have been known to -- how shall I say this delicately --- recycle their dinner. One of the first things students learn his to muzzle Fido. If your dog suddenly wakes up and discovers your mouth on his snout, it could get ugly --- fast!

I've never fully understand the love affair people have with their pets. You should see how some New Yorkers treat their four-legged canines --- designer dogs dressed in Ralph Lauren -- prancing around the city with their owners in tow (sometimes in matching outfits). And if you think that's messed up -- you won't believe what they do with dog poop in this town!

Back home, when a dog needs to do his duty, you open the door, point him in the direction of the neighbor's yard and he does his business. Here in the Big Apple, you have to put your dog on a leash and after he does his business, you have to suit up in a haz-mat uniform and carefully scoop up the poop.

Now I ask you, friends, whose got the better deal? The master or the dog?

Now don't get me wrong. I don't hate animals. I'm just not a big animal lover. I think it stems from a rather traumatic episode dating back to my third grade year. I had two goldfish -- Laverne and Shirley. My parents refused to let me take the fish on our summer vacation. Perplexed, I decided to fill up the bathtub and sprinkle a healthy supply of fish food in the wather. I figured it would be enough to keep the fish happy for a week. I did not figure on the bathtub having a leak.

One week later, we returned home. It was stifling hot. My dad caught the first whiff when he stepped onto the porch. It was the most disgusting smell. He ordered us to stay outside while he went inside to investigate. A few minutes later he returned. "What's that smell," my mother asked. "Laverne and Shirley," my dad replied.

He used a spatula to scrape their corpses from the bottom of the bathtub. To this day, I can't eat fish sticks.

What a crazy world! People treating their pets like people. We've got pet hotels, gourmet pet food, and in some cities -- pet psychologists. That's just nuts. And now, my friends, pet CPR.

I can't imagine someone back in my old stomping grounds giving CPR to a pet pig. But I'll make a deal with you. If you've got a potbelly pig and it stops breathing one day, give me a call. I'll be right over with a bottle of barbecue sauce.

A caller to a talk radio station said she treats her dog like family. And she even suggested she would rather give her pet CPR than some human beings. It's an interesting point. Let's say you're walking down the street one day in Hollywood and you come across Britney Spears and Fluffy the Cat sprawled out on the sidewalk -- just this side of the pearly gates. Who do you give mouth-to-mouth --- Britney or the feline?

At least the cat's had its shots.