Yesterday on a dog group I belong to, one of the lovely ladies was saying how she was unable to find any pumpkin in her area. Store after store had not a single can of the stuff we all use to make pies and puddings, but she desperately needed it. Her vet had told her it was what her little chihuahua with some perpetually blocked anal glands needed in order to cleanse them naturally and effectively. Living in a rural area, I guess pumpkin is merely a seasonal foodstuff for her local stores. So to help her out, I went out and bought a couple of cans of organic pumpkin for her to freeze into tiny poop-inducing cubes that she could thaw as needed and add to her baby's meals.
And so this afternoon I found myself at the post office, mailing those cans to her. At the window I was asked if there was anything perishable in my package to which I replied, "yes." I was then asked what exactly the perishable item was and I explained that it was cans of pureed pumpkin. The man smiled as though he was thinking how tasty a slice of pumpkin pie would be, and I thought he was going to ask me if it was, in fact, for pies, but he didn't. And that's when it occurred to me how odd the real explanation would sound to a total stranger: "No, it's not for pie. I'm actually sending this to a little chihuahua in Kentucky with digestive issues."
Sometimes our lives take a truly absurd turn every now and again.
Photo courtesy of HelloMokona on flickr.
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