I have recently been shopping for dog stuff. With a new puppy in the house after a long break, we need all the usual stuff. Baskets, beds, chew toys, leads, collars and a smattering of impulse purchases that I will no doubt regret. Fortunately for me, close to where I live is a range of pet warehouse retail opportunities.
I have visited them all more than once. I have noticed however, that the amount of help available anywhere other than at the counter seems to be in short supply and when it is available the willingness of the person to help is in inverse proportion to their knowledge base. So if they know nothing, they are very willing and if they know lots, then you can’t find them.
It seems that the way to get the information you need is to stand in a queue at the front counter, preferably in front of someone struggling to hold all the 20 kilo bags of dry food they are buying for their menagerie, and then stop and have a lengthy chat with the person serving.
While all of this is probably acceptable somewhere, it is not working for me. I feel way too guilty holding up the line, so I wont line up and then chat, and when I walk around the warehouse I can’t find anyone that knows anything. Consequently I have purchased a range of things based on the advice of someone who clearly (as it turns out) knows less than I do.
The only thing left to do is to come up with a name for the retail ratio. Perhaps the Warehouse help ratio fits best, hardly very inventive though, what do you think?
There is a dog on the way. We have been pet free for almost a decade and have enjoyed it immensely, but it is just not the same. Over the course of the next few months no doubt I will be writing about the way this hound has changed our lives. I hope I am writing about the joy and not the tears, but inevitably with pets there is a share of both.
It is not just any dog either. It is a fauve. The Basset fauve is an interesting breed that looks a little like a cocker spaniel and a little like a basset and a little like a lot of things but has its own distinct look. Hardly a succinct explanation but Im sure once you have seen a picture you will agree. When most people talk about fauves the first thing they say is “their ears are painted on” and that was the thing that instantly grabbed my interest. My poor long suffering teachers used to say the same thing to me in school. So instantly we have a fair bit in common.
Our pet free decade has included a few overseas trips and a few spontaneous weekends away, all of which will come to a screaming halt when the hound arrives. We have vaguely puppy proofed the house but not with any real zeal so no doubt he/she will find the most valuable item left at eye level to chew on. I say He/she because even though we have committed to owning the hound, the breeder is yet to allocate animals to buyers.
The litter consists of four girls and one boy. We initially said we were interested in a girl, but so is everyone else, so we have also said that we don’t want to miss out. Interestingly several people in the group have said the same thing. So this weekend we wait, holding our breath to discover if we are fishing around for a few suitable boy names or girl names. We have in the past had boy pets including Simpson the Labrador (famous for eating an entire worm farm, all three trays, in one sitting before requiring the local vet to pump his stomach). So perhaps it’s time for a girl but time will tell.
No doubt my witty son and even wittier bride have a long list of clever and beautiful names on a notepad somewhere waiting to be short listed. We have a six hour drive to meet the new family member and the same return so my first wish is that he/she travels well. I feel sure the name will settle almost instantly.
We have put our adult son in charge of training. As he continues to battle his way through the rigours of chemotherapy, his no nonsense approach to training everything (including me) will be put to perfect use. I am looking forward to the widening of our social circle as is the way with owning an animal in the inner city. Parks and routines become the catalyst for making new friends provided of course you do not own a killer.
I am also living in the hope that owning a dog will have an effect on my ever burgeoning waistline but I suspect the laziness that is clearly the root cause of the problem may be the very thing that causes the hound and I to cross swords. Im sure it wont be long before he/she looks up at me as we re-enter the house as the thought bubble hovers over his head saying “really that was not much of a walk bubble butt”.
I am genuinely excited about the new family member and look forward to sharing our adventures with you.