So, y’all remember in my last post about how I was supposed to get a dog? This is her:
Wouldn’t we have made the best team?
Well, the owner completely ignored all my attempts to contact her for 2 days, even after confirming my commitment to adopting her, and knowing that I had made her son a present. She couldn’t even tell me that they had changed their minds? I am still about to cry just thinking about it.
I found a sweet chihuahua at the animal shelter yesterday,
and when I went to adopt him, they said they had to contact my landlord to make sure it was okay. And they said no. Even though there are other dogs in the apartment. They said they don’t want any NEW dogs. Because of noise. Even though I can hear my upstairs neighbor yelling about all manner of banal atrocities at all hours of the day. When you live in an apartment, you waive your right to the expectation of quiet, AMIWRONG? I am a grown person. I am so tired of being told what to do. I am feeling the same kind of frustrated I felt as a kid, when I knew something didn’t make sense, yet I was powerless to change it. Guess I’ll start looking for a house…
Anyway, I still have this fucking stuffed dog peace offering for a six-year old boy who’s mom is a complete and utter flaky, spineless, inconsiderate, POOPYPANTS!
I AM GOING TO TAKE THIS DOG ON A WALK IN MY NEIGHBORHOOD EVERY DAY FOR A MONTH. I AM GOING TO DOCUMENT HIS PROGRESSIVE DECAY. AT THE END OF THE MONTH HE WILL BE MOUNTED (i.e. taxidermy) AND PUT IN MAGGIE’S ART SHOW ALONG WITH PHOTOGRAPHIC DOCUMENTATION.
That is all I have to say.