WTF, Cambridge?
Dear People of Cambridge, Ohio: I would have spent money in your town on Saturday, but everything I wanted to go to was apparently CLOSED until January 7th. Does no one shop in your town for the two weeks after Christmas? The used bookstore: closed. The artsy craftsy supply store I found online: closed. All but one or two of the antique shops on Main Street Cambridge (apparently their tourism push): CLOSED. SO very annoying. You do not score points with me.
So I decided to go have a sit-down dinner (Theo's: CLOSED) while I waited, but I didn't have a book with me (because I thought I would have PLACES TO GO while I waited for the dog-transport time), so I drove down the road going "Bookstore?!?!? Here, bookstore!" And lo and behold, what appeared before my eyes was a Goodwill store. Score! But wait! There are racks and racks of clothing, but no books? Do the poorer people of Cambridge not read? Oh. Wait. Probably not. [Hey, I'm allowed to trash talk the people of Guernsey County, I used to live here.) But then I spotted one lone little bookshelf hidden away in the corner, and actually found two mystery novels that would keep me occupied over dinner. (On the plus side for Cambridge: paperbacks only $.25, hardcovers $.50!)
The doggie transport itself went smooth as silk, although apparently my lack of a cellphone made for some consternation on the part of the organizers (something Stalinesque about those people: "Here is your schedule! There will be ten minutes for a potty break at each stopping point! You will not deviate! You will not have an independent thought, or you will be punished!") I was told that I "should" get a cell phone. Yeah, right, I'll get right on that. I think it's entirely sensible to incur a monthly bill of $30+ just on the off chance I'll be helping with another rescue transport someday.*
Anyway, Nicky the Corgi was a quiet boy who climbed down into the footwell on the passenger's side and went to sleep; Onjolie grizzled and fussed a bit right at first, but I put my fingers through the bars of the crate so she could lick them, and after a few minutes she settled down and went to sleep herself (and snored! my god, the noises that came out of such a small critter.) Nicky has already made it to his new home and is apparently smitten with his new person. Onjolie, it turns out, is going to doggie "boot camp" to unlearn some bad behaviors (dog aggression, mostly.) She should have gotten there sometime Sunday afternoon. They both handled what had to be a fairly stressful situation like little troupers. And I now see what the attraction is about Frenchies: I could love a little froggie like Onjolie (but that name would *have* to go.)
*Of course I have already been contacted about another possible rescue. Good grief, what have I gotten myself into?
So I decided to go have a sit-down dinner (Theo's: CLOSED) while I waited, but I didn't have a book with me (because I thought I would have PLACES TO GO while I waited for the dog-transport time), so I drove down the road going "Bookstore?!?!? Here, bookstore!" And lo and behold, what appeared before my eyes was a Goodwill store. Score! But wait! There are racks and racks of clothing, but no books? Do the poorer people of Cambridge not read? Oh. Wait. Probably not. [Hey, I'm allowed to trash talk the people of Guernsey County, I used to live here.) But then I spotted one lone little bookshelf hidden away in the corner, and actually found two mystery novels that would keep me occupied over dinner. (On the plus side for Cambridge: paperbacks only $.25, hardcovers $.50!)
The doggie transport itself went smooth as silk, although apparently my lack of a cellphone made for some consternation on the part of the organizers (something Stalinesque about those people: "Here is your schedule! There will be ten minutes for a potty break at each stopping point! You will not deviate! You will not have an independent thought, or you will be punished!") I was told that I "should" get a cell phone. Yeah, right, I'll get right on that. I think it's entirely sensible to incur a monthly bill of $30+ just on the off chance I'll be helping with another rescue transport someday.*
Anyway, Nicky the Corgi was a quiet boy who climbed down into the footwell on the passenger's side and went to sleep; Onjolie grizzled and fussed a bit right at first, but I put my fingers through the bars of the crate so she could lick them, and after a few minutes she settled down and went to sleep herself (and snored! my god, the noises that came out of such a small critter.) Nicky has already made it to his new home and is apparently smitten with his new person. Onjolie, it turns out, is going to doggie "boot camp" to unlearn some bad behaviors (dog aggression, mostly.) She should have gotten there sometime Sunday afternoon. They both handled what had to be a fairly stressful situation like little troupers. And I now see what the attraction is about Frenchies: I could love a little froggie like Onjolie (but that name would *have* to go.)
*Of course I have already been contacted about another possible rescue. Good grief, what have I gotten myself into?