On very nearly getting a dog – part 8

Surprisingly, both I and the van arrived, undamaged, at the rescue centre. (We didn’t even get lost on the way). I found a decent sized parking space and headed for the reception desk.

***

Receptionist: “Good morning, what can I do for you?”

Me: “Hello! I’m here to collect P”

R <smiling>: I’m going to assume that P is a dog..?”

Me: “Yup. I have a Form, if that helps…”

In Germany (and maybe elsewhere) Forms (capital F) are like magic wands. Unfortunately, the magic they do best is producing new Forms..

This one was no different.

I filled in all the spaces, wrote on all the lines, ticked all the boxes and made sure to dot my ‘i’s and cross my ‘t’s. I even signed my name in the allocated space without practicing first* ­čśë

***

When I’d finished filling things in, I handed all the paperwork to the receptionist to type up or photocopy or staple together** and went to browse the animal accoutrements of which there were several racks.

I wanted to pick up a brush while I was there – even if they were [probably] more expensive than in a normal pet shop, the excess would hopefully help fund the home. 

A few minutes later I was back at the desk, armed with a double sided brush and a comb with rotating teeth.

I don’t know very much about dogs, but I know this breed is not only very fluffy, they also have 3 layers of fur which moult independently…. Getting both was probably still overkill but P is a very fluffy dog and I am a very sneezy person, so I decided better safe than sorry.

***

In the meantime the receptionist was finished. I paid – the brush and comb were about half the price of the dog – and went to find a loo. I always need to before I do anything scary. I hadn’t been aware of being scared of picking her up, but bodies know best I suppose. Or I’d drunk too much that morning. Either way.

***

I headed towards the Reha Centre.

* presumably due to repeated passport applications

** whatever German receptionists do with paperwork

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