This past Saturday my wife and I went to the Antrim Animal Sanctuary.
God, was it horrible.
Within minutes, Ruth was in tears and I found myself choking back serious emotions. It was the saddest thing I think I’ve seen in all my life. (Dogs behind bars. Barking. Being all sad and shit. Ouch.)
As a farm boy, I had so many dogs (most run over by my mom- through no fault of her own. Darwin answered many questions as to why Skippy got run over (he was stupid)) that I’m used to being semi-sort-of-kind-of-you-did-what? detached from why, when, where, howsat? from the natural selection type of world we all live in. (Did any of this make sense? No? Well, you apparently didn’t grow up in the middle of Nowhere, Colorado. That’s your tough luck.)
But then we came to the understanding that the Antrim Animal Sanctuary DOESN’T put dogs down. Volunteers come and walk the dogs, give them food and show them love. And that…well, that made me want to cry even more.
This is a FANTASTIC charity.
Anyway, we went to the Animal Sactuary and saw the cutest little bastard (well, since dogs don’t get married, I’m assuming the tag is true) you’ve ever seen.
Part Jack Russel, part Collie, he’s 100% smarts and probably 100% trouble.
But that’s OK.
Because, as of Friday, he’s ours.
Please everybody… support your local animal shelter. These animals did nothing wrong and don’t deserve to be punished.
We had to go through a screening process–which is more that your average slutty whore 14 year old trailer trash bitch has to go through (Britney Spears, I’m looking your way…).
This poses many questions but I don’t have the time to answer them.
Wish us luck.
And let’s all hope that Sparky takes to our humble little home.
Here, Sparky! Here!