Yesterday, after Church, Meaghen and I walked to Espereza in order to partake of the fabulous farmers market that is held there.
It was like hippie kingdom.
People in organic cotton and scratchy hemp dyed all sorts of terrible earth tones sat around in circles playing instruments, or waltzed around in erratic circles, completely out of time with the music.
The smell of pot was pretty overpowering.
Since it was way past lunchtime we attacked the first food stand we saw, which happened to sell crepes and quiche. Perfect. We stood there arguing with each other about which one would attempt our order, until the guy behind the counter interrupted us. "I can speak English if you want."
As we wound our way through dreadlocks, drums, and nag champa incense sticks, we happened upon a lady seated on the ground, possessed of a lap full of puppies. We almost lost it, because we had made a deal on the way over that if we found a puppy at the market, we would buy it.
We often make deals like this.
This one didn't even have to be bought. It was free!
Meaghen was ready to scoop up the dog right then and there.
Suddenly though, the thought of so suddenly becoming a parent started to freak me out. I haven't read any dog parent books. We hadn't prepared a welcoming space for him. What was the best kind of diet? Low Carb? High Carb? Vegetarian? Paleo?
Should we give it shots - What if he has an allergic reaction to them? Is there a trusted vet in the area - How does one know whether or not to trust a vet?
What about haircuts? How often is that supposed to happen? Are their doggie hair style trends? And shampoo - what would be best for his skin and fur? Surely one has to be careful not strip him of all his essential skin oils.
This, you understand, was all for a mongrel puppy.
Imagine me with a human baby coming my way.
I told Meaghen we had to discuss it over lunch.
We did, and came to the conclusion that we would spend a week doing research on puppy care.
This is definitely is not long enough to figure out the majority of my questions, but it does give me sufficient breathing room to pull the idea of a dog into my psyche.
Truthfully, it probably will not happen. The logistics of who would keep it and how we would get it back to North America are a little sketchy. Then again, sketchiness has never deterred us from anything.
We even have a name. Just in case: Bomer. As in Matt. As in him:
Our puppy might not be that scrumptious, but we will treat him as if he is.