About every 28 days I decide that it's time for us to have another baby. Every 29 days I decide that's not the greatest idea. Shelly the Snail doesn't really fill that maternal urge, but maybe a puppy would?
This is Teddy. I have wanted to visit the local animal shelter for some time now, and this past weekend was my chance. Except, "local" takes on a whole new meaning without access to a car. Local means a bus ride to the boonies, a trek through the woods and a rickety river crossing, of course. At least the bus is a Mercedes.
The walk/trek/hike/whatever was great. The weather was good, the kids were good, the scenery ... so on and so forth. But the best part? The absolute serendipitously marvellous best part? Right when we finally have the animal shelter in sight Aaron sees a sign. A yellow sign that says "Flea Market at the Animal Shelter, TODAY!" Tara! Today! Puppies AND junk.
Except. It turns out that we can't adopt an animal. Because, and I quote, "We won't let you have an animal because you're not German." Us: "But we LIVE here." And then, presumably after hearing themselves speak, they changed it to "Or maybe if you spoke better German ... not to be racist or anything, but this is just our policy."
There is no German race you assholes. Just give me my dog Teddy and my used books and let me go. I have to catch my Mercedes at twenty past the hour.