I scampered down the stairs on Tuesday after Mommy opened the door to my bedroom. I jumped up on the couch, then leaped on the back, ready to survey my property and bark at intruders, when my brown eyed gaze was blocked by a big sign that read: “For Sale.” Firstly, I was not happy that this primitive sign done in boring primary colors was blocking my view, and secondly, I thought it was silly to make a “For Sale” sign for Pocket that was bigger than her.
When Mommy hobbled downstairs she told me that her summer of Total Makeover Condo Edition was over and our house was on the market. I jumped down, ready to walk around the place, gather my belongings, and put them in Pocket’s pockets when Mommy told me to relax. It would be a long time before someone offered to buy the house, and we’d have to find some place to move.
I asked if we could go to Auntie Bev’s. Daddy said that Auntie Bev had stuffed her house full with a life time of memories, each of which had to be meticulously categorized. If the sale goes as planned we will need a new house before hers is ready to be sold. The good news is that Mommy and Daddy have found a retirement community that will allow two dogs. Well, it was good news if you want Pocket to move with us. I am still on the fence about that one.
There were several places on sale at this new development, so my Pawrents are no longer jittery about finding a place to live. I was discouraged that in the first three days we had no offers because it had been 21 days in dog days and that’s a lot of time. My Mommy said she signed with a realtor for six months, which vexed me, because that’s almost four years in dog time, and who has that kind of time? I am very anxious to sell. Do we have any rich pups out there. Are Scooter and Molly owned by Donald Trump? Is Matilda actually owned by Oprah? If so please buy our condo. If you would like to judge it’s value, or you’re like Charlie Brown’s dog, a bit Snoopy, you can check out the place here.
I grew very excited when everyone on the news was talking about a guy who would be paying us a visit. This was exactly the buyer we wanted. They said he was in a Hurry, and we want to sell fast. They also said he was Cane, like sugar, which meant he was a sweetheart. Boy was I wrong about that.
First of all, this guy Earl: needy. Everyone, not just us, but every single person in the state had to go out and buy non-perishable food and water for him. They had to bring in their outdoor furniture, get their boats out of the water, some even had to board up windows. People were ordered to buy batteries (Dog knows what he needed them for) and to stock up on necessary supplies.
Even with his demands I was still happy he was coming to see the house because he was a very important man. They talked about him all day long on the news. They said he threatened people who lived on the coast of North Carolina, and while I did not like this, sometimes we have to do business with humans we don’t like.
Friday Pocket and I got on the back of the couch and waited for Earl. And waited. And waited. Finally I decided to go on the Internet to see where he was. Get this! He wasn’t coming. He was just going to brush the outer Cape. What a jerk! Now we’ve got all this food, batteries, and this middle aged white douchebag is off searching for his eye 130 miles east of Nantucket.
It’s like Mom says, never trust a men in business.