Petshop ruminations

A visit to the petshop for a new cat scratching post (the delightful beast took to the new couch!) and a filter for the frog pond led to the inevitable cries of "can we have?" upon sight of the puppies.

Strangely enough, no great impact was made on those plaintive calls by recounting how their aunt had blown some $8000 on operations to rebuild faulty joints for their dog that had not yet even reached the age of one...

Less likely then that I'd win the argument by quoting the review from New Scientist that feeding the average mongrel demands an ecological footprint of 0.84 hectares - that is the rough amount of land it consumes to supply what a dog consumes.


To put that in perspective, the average Vietnamese citizens requires just 0.76 hectares.

And there's not much chance of convincing the dog to go vego...

To other arguments: "They smell, they poo everywhere, they bark lots and you have to brush them all the time because they aren't smart enough to clean themselves like cats are." (Although I occasionally delight in giving the moggie a shower and shampoo when she gets a bit whiffy. There are few more amusing sights than a drenched cat...)

"We'll clean them and clean up." "You can't even remember to water a single sunflower seedling!" "But daaaaddd..."

So with the failure of logic to win the argument, one was left with no choice but to trot out the parental imperative: "We are not getting a dog, period."

Kids are great in so many ways, but the talent for which I shall never forgive them is the way they can consistently make me sound like my own parents when I was a kid...