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Free To a Good Home
Jul. 3rd, 2006 09:05 amSome time around 1pm yesterday afternoon, the Little Store did its 20,000th sale.
Certainly a milestone for us – maybe the retail equivalent of a bar mitzvah: "Today, you are a store."
(And I like the way I continue to say "us" when "us" is now me.")
Certainly it was a much jollier day than Saturday. The sun came out and we made pots of money and with pots of money comes the joyous revelation that one has avoided debtors gaol for at least one more month.
One worrisome thing. Xena, my Jack Russell, had her last set of puppies three and a half years ago. The puppies had papers up the ying-yang: Nancy Trumble – my erstwhile mother-in-law who gave Xena to Max eleven years ago – is a big fan of canine eugenics. They were very respectable puppies in addition to being very cute puppies. They had bloodlines!
And I could have sold the puppies but instead I gave them away. It was more important for me to find them loving, stable homes than to rake in the Big Buck$ trying to become an amateur puppy mill.
So yesterday I get a hysterical phone call from the woman to whom I'd given the smallest and some might say the cutest of Xena's puppies. This is a woman who'd stalked me for weeks until I agreed to give her Blackberry Tail (the puppy's milk name.) She was the only puppy recipient whom I did not know personally.
Long story short – she was getting a divorce and so had to get rid of Blackberry Tail (whom she'd renamed Schmooshie.)
"I don't quite get this, Lisa," I said. "I mean, trust me – I know from divorce. You get rid of the man, not the dog."
Lisa begins rattling away to me on the phone. I hold the phone a safe distance from my ear because I do not want to hear one word of the sad, sordid story of how she was wronged. I have my own sad, sordid story should I want to write a bad country song, thank you very much.
Upshot: she is too out of it to find poor Blackberry Tail a home, so I'm taking Blackberry Tail on a temporary basis. I'll research Jack Russell rescue societies. I'll put up photographs at my store and on Craig's List.
I cannot believe the irresponsibility of this woman, but I will try very hard not to judge. Because, y'know, if Mother Teresa ran a hot sauce store, she wouldn't judge.
BUT IF ANYBODY READING THIS OUT IN LJ LAND HAS BEEN LONGING FOR THE WORLD'S CUTEST DOG, PLEASE GIVE ME A HOLLER. Jack Russells, you know, are big dogs in small dog bodies. They're really cute. They're really smart. They're really loyal. And they have tons of personality.
Certainly a milestone for us – maybe the retail equivalent of a bar mitzvah: "Today, you are a store."
(And I like the way I continue to say "us" when "us" is now me.")
Certainly it was a much jollier day than Saturday. The sun came out and we made pots of money and with pots of money comes the joyous revelation that one has avoided debtors gaol for at least one more month.
One worrisome thing. Xena, my Jack Russell, had her last set of puppies three and a half years ago. The puppies had papers up the ying-yang: Nancy Trumble – my erstwhile mother-in-law who gave Xena to Max eleven years ago – is a big fan of canine eugenics. They were very respectable puppies in addition to being very cute puppies. They had bloodlines!
And I could have sold the puppies but instead I gave them away. It was more important for me to find them loving, stable homes than to rake in the Big Buck$ trying to become an amateur puppy mill.
So yesterday I get a hysterical phone call from the woman to whom I'd given the smallest and some might say the cutest of Xena's puppies. This is a woman who'd stalked me for weeks until I agreed to give her Blackberry Tail (the puppy's milk name.) She was the only puppy recipient whom I did not know personally.
Long story short – she was getting a divorce and so had to get rid of Blackberry Tail (whom she'd renamed Schmooshie.)
"I don't quite get this, Lisa," I said. "I mean, trust me – I know from divorce. You get rid of the man, not the dog."
Lisa begins rattling away to me on the phone. I hold the phone a safe distance from my ear because I do not want to hear one word of the sad, sordid story of how she was wronged. I have my own sad, sordid story should I want to write a bad country song, thank you very much.
Upshot: she is too out of it to find poor Blackberry Tail a home, so I'm taking Blackberry Tail on a temporary basis. I'll research Jack Russell rescue societies. I'll put up photographs at my store and on Craig's List.
I cannot believe the irresponsibility of this woman, but I will try very hard not to judge. Because, y'know, if Mother Teresa ran a hot sauce store, she wouldn't judge.
BUT IF ANYBODY READING THIS OUT IN LJ LAND HAS BEEN LONGING FOR THE WORLD'S CUTEST DOG, PLEASE GIVE ME A HOLLER. Jack Russells, you know, are big dogs in small dog bodies. They're really cute. They're really smart. They're really loyal. And they have tons of personality.
