17 March 2017
This post is the result of a conversation I had in the car with Scrag this morning - a deep and meaningful discussion about the meaning of life (the kind of talks I often find myself having with my eight-year-old. It's how we roll).
There we are driving along in traffic, rushing, on the cusp of lateness as always, and he says, "Mum do you think there's a plan for everything? Is there a point to it?"
See what I mean? Deep. This kid is DEEP.
I know where he's coming from, what he is trying to get at.
With all the crappy things that happen, is there a reason or plan behind it? Is there a reason why we go through stuff?
Here's how I answered him...
03 March 2017
I came right back with my best shoot-em-down disclaimers: I can only just afford ONE dog, I couldn't afford to look after TWO. Vet bills for two? Worming and flea treatments for two? Forgeddaboutit. Plus, who knew how much extra work an extra puppy would be? It would probably all end up on my plate, and my plate is already full.
But I wasn't prepared for their clincher: fostering.
We could foster a rescue puppy, the rescue people would pay for all the expenses, Clyde would have a friend for free... and when that puppy moved on to a new family, we'd get a new puppy. Endless puppies, endless cuteness. A win-win situation for all...
They caught me unawares with their clever logic and I caved.