As the day went on and the clock digitally ticked closer and closer to 3pm – the time I would have to leave to drive out to the shelter with enough time prior to closing – I got a little impatient.
The nice woman I spoke with yesterday was very kind and supportive and was happy to see me finally work things out and get Rascal. Today, I wasn’t met with the same level of customer service. Yesterday I was told that there was a really good chance that the vet would get a chance to give Rascal a once over to make sure he was healthy and up-to-date on shots, etc. before coming home. When I called today, a different person told me that the shelter is having a rabies clinic which is tying up the vet all day and Rascal hasn’t been in to see him/her yet. (This I am told by someone who obviously didn’t even look at a file or anything to give me any case-specific information whatsoever.) So, because I am working late tomorrow, it looks like Friday will be the day.
I really hope everything goes as planned this time. These past few days have been so filled with emotional ups and downs that I’m physically weary from it all. Saturday I meet Rascal and my application is initially approved: excited. Sunday I get a phone call that my apartment complex rejected the adoption: heartbroken. Monday, after some persuasion, the property manager will consider it: hopeful/anxious. Tuesday I am told that Rascal is to be mine: overjoyed. Wednesday after planning on picking him up I find out that I can’t until Friday: bummed. The good thing that comes out of this is that I’ll have a large portion of Friday and the entire weekend to get acquainted with Rascal and for him to get used to his new home before I get back to my regular work schedule.
Why does it have to be so difficult?