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Ever since Zoey’s unfortunate encounter with a neighborhood dog, following her unfortunate encounter in which she bit her playful roommate Woogie, I’ve been spending my free time trying to find a way to get her back to Austin. I feel so terrible that Zoey is letting her troubled past interfere with how she gets along with the nice dogs here. Even keeping her in my room all day while I’m at work didn’t help (I guess she can open doors). So Gus, who is the best boyfriend in the world, offered to take care of her in Austin while I finish my contract here.

I placed multitudes of Craig’s List ads and received many, many responses. People were going near Austin, through Austin, somewhere in the vicinity of Texas… but everyone had some stipulation. One offer was from a guy in Orange County, which is six hours from here. A couple who was moving to Florida would take her, but they needed $300 to mail all their stuff to make room for Zoey. Yet another guy was going to Austin… with another dog. Someone else responded to tell me that I could fly her in a temperature-controlled cabin on Continental for about $300. And thus, for the price of a round-trip ticket for myself, I flew my socially maladjusted dog back to Texas this morning.

Of course, you can’t just put a dog on a plane. I had to get her certificate of health yesterday, which was little more than time-consuming. I know the airline needs it to cover their asses, but waiting at the vet is akin to waiting at the doctor’s office (time spent waiting/4=time spent with doctor), and in this case, we were the only ones there!

And the day before yesterday, I had to buy a crate. I got a used one, and found out soon after that crates that size (approx. 23×27x38 in.) are around $250 new. Pretty excessive for a large hunk of plastic with a cage door in front. Cost of materials is probably less than 1/10th of that.

I also found out last night when I was making the reservation that I needed food and water bowls that clip into the door of the crate. I went to the crustily crowded Wal-mart, the place to go for cheap plastic thingies. Of course, they didn’t have any for individual sale, and the customer service guy who told me this was a complete dousche. I actually considered stealing the bowls out of one of the crates for sale (I had already pulled them out to show the guy what I was looking for). I justified my deviant thoughts by reminding myself that Wal-mart has no problem with robbing their employees of a living wage along with robbing rural and suburban towns of their uniqueness. How would the largest grossing business to ever exist notice a couple of little plastic dog bowls? The smidgen of sense left in me decided that it would be difficult to pull off and it would be a nuisance whether or not they pressed charges. But still, if Wal-mart were human, I would smack him across the face, stab him in the heart 10,000 times, and dump him in a polluted lake. Even that treatment is too good.

I got the bowls for five bucks at Petsmart.

Anyway, bringing her to the airport this morning was really hard. Everyone at the Continental cargo office was really nice, and I’m sure Zoey will be fine, but I feel so bad sending her off like this. I’m sure she’ll be much happier by herself with full use of the house and backyard. I, however, will be much sadder. She was one of my best friends here. I just wish she liked dogs as much as she likes people.