>> Monday, August 20, 2007
So I go to the one pet store in San Jose today. Ok, probably in all of Cabo.
It's about as big as master bathroom with double sinks.
This store. Oh, this store.
First off, I go in there looking for a simple item: a pet crate for Fergie. I explain this, in Spanish, to a woman who proceeds to grab my puppy who is sitting at my feet and starts kissing her. She apparently works there? And there's a pre-requisite to wear pink bubblegum looking lipstick? Ugh. Get off my dog. Where's my wash hand? (Hand wash to those of you who aren't Chloe.)
Do they have a dog crate for 3 lb. Fergie? No.
But, they have two cat ones.
And one ugly, yellow and black bubble looking one. The door doesn't swing open, instead - it actually has to come off it's hinges each time you open and close it.
It appears that it has been used. (Hair in it, dirty, etc.)
And, it's $34.
There were no other choices.
I had to do it.
C. and I now call it the, "Bumble Bee." When Fergie is bad, she has to get "stung" and go in it. (We thought we were clever.)
Sometimes I would just really like variety.