Misunderstood Stupidity

I was recently rejected after an interview. Not a job interview or a                               magazine interview profiling bizarre writers claiming to be stupidity experts,  but a different sort of interview. Being of a resilient nature, I did what any semi-intelligent reject would do: changed my identity. But not without permission, of course.

It started when I’d filled out a four-page online adoption questionnaire. Canine adoption, that is, from a dog rescue group. I had one dog already; I decided it was time for another as our Aussie Shepherd, Rio, seemed lonely.

The adoption questions started out as standard fare, such as: “Do you have other pets?” and “Will you take your new dog for walks?”

But then they started getting a tad tricky with questions like, “Where will your new dog sleep?”

I answered that Rio sleeps wherever he likes. Sometimes inside and sometimes outdoors. The same will hold true for our new addition. This resulted in my immediate failure.

Unbeknownst to me, dogs from this rescue organization were not permitted to sleep outside, meaning anywhere not contained within the four walls of what was deemed human living quarters. I sent an e-mail, explaining that we leave it up to Rio to decide where to sleep. Sometimes he prefers to nestle down in my son’s bedroom and other times, he prefers to sleep outside. I received a response, asking me to define “outside.”

I explained, “Under the stars, or on the cool, green grass ‘neath the sweet-scented Magnolia tree, or in his fashionable, igloo style dog house.”

I received no further communication. I tried again, “If my new canine friend prefers to sleep inside, she is more than welcome.” “My bed is large and cozy.” “We live on fully fenced acreage, perfect for frolicking animals.” “I’m a good dog owner, I am!”

I had to face facts. I had been blackballed by the Dog Rescue Organization.

The fifty canines or so awaiting adoption at this organization were kept indoors, all together, in a room the size of a three car garage. I had heard that dogfights erupted now and then as the animals tousled for control. I could not believe that any dog would be happier there than in my home.  I called my mother.

“Do you want to adopt a dog?” I asked her.

“Not really.”

“Do you mind if I borrow your name and address and pretend to be you adopting a dog?”

“Go right ahead, dear.” 

Using my mother’s email address, I again filled out a questionnaire. This time I was successful because nowhere did I use the frowned upon “O” word. I was granted a personal interview.

Please do not think for a moment that I have a penchant for impersonating my mother. I merely felt I had been grossly misunderstood, and Mom was the only one who would allow me to borrow her identity, no strings attached. Once at the Rescue Headquarters, I was going to fess up.

When Rio and I arrived, (his presence was required so he could have a say in picking his new buddy), a very nice, exhausted looking young man named Kevin helped us. He never asked my name, merely wanting to know if I’d filled out the online questionnaire. Then he picked out a candidate to take for a walk with Rio and me. I said,

“I’m not sure if I’d make a good dog parent. There are things I need to explain.”

Kindly Kevin responded, “I can tell by the way you treat Rio that you’ll be very good.” 

Four dogs later, we hadn’t found the right fit. I had to reject the first one since the enthusiastic creature excelled in knocking me flat on my back; the next one kept giving Rio the evil eye; Rio displayed an exceptional loathing for the third one; and the last pooch kept mistaking Kevin for a fire hydrant. 

When Kevin went inside to change his pants, another representative came over to me. She narrowed her eyes and said, “I’ve been watching you.”

“Then…you know?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Should I leave?”

“You wait right there!” She went back into the shelter.

They’d figured it out. They were probably in a group huddle, deciding what to do with me. Rio looked at me as if to say, “Let’s make a run for it.” But I couldn’t. I had to state my case and face the consequences. 

The woman returned. At the end of her leash was a very sweet, young German Shepherd.  Rio made no objections. I said,

“About the application…”

 “I’m glad you reminded me. Will you take two dogs?”

At this point, I realized that no one here cared who the hell I was or where my dog slept at night. My confessing became irrelevant. This was a case of positive stupidity as we both came out better off after our contact. I learned never to borrow my mom’s identity again. The guilt of “fixing” the application was not worth repeating. And they found a good home for a needy pet.

Make thinking a habit!
Keli

Keli@Counterfeithumans.com 

10 Responses to “Misunderstood Stupidity”

  1. Agnes Mildew says:

    Oh My Giddy Aunt! What a palaver that was, eh? I don’t think Madonna had to go through as much questioning to adopt The Baby David, did she?

    I adopted a cat about a year ago. I was never told that I had to pay for adopting it – I actually thought I was doing them a favour. So, when she was brought to my house and the girls went Oooh, Aaaah, can we dress her up? and she seemed to settle, I was then presented with a bill for £50 at which I blanched and refused. As a trade-off, I gave them an old Epson printer which I was going to donate to the charity shop – I was utterly skint and there was no way I was paying £50 for a scabby, skittish, mental Tabby…

    She legged it after a few months…and I was glad to see the back of her – all she did was crap in my house.

    I now have two cats which I have raised from kittens, so they know the ground rules. Much as I appreciate the idea of rescue animals, I would never get another and admire your dedication, my dear! The Best of British Luck to you!

  2. Agnes Mildew says:

    Haha – our comments have crossed! Our Blogging Bio-rhythms myst be in sync!

  3. Julianne says:

    Let’s hope Jake doesn’t see this post. He might call the ASPCA on your application-forging self.

    Congrats on your new family member! I hope Rio likes her new companion.

  4. Keli says:

    Agnes: Good thing you didn’t have to fork over any dough. I did, but we’ve had better luck than you and your cat so far. If I could only get our new dog to stop running off with my shoes…Thanks for your good wishes. And yes, I feel we are totally in sync!
    Julianne: Not to worry. Should Jake pass thru here, I’m armed and ready for him.

  5. Starlily says:

    Congrats on the addition to your family! The amount of paperwork and hoops you have to jump through to rescue an animal from the shelter is truly stuper-endous…I admire your patience and persistence!

  6. Agnes Mildew says:

    Nooooooooooooooooooooooo…I stupered AGAIN…I just wrote you a really long msg and it bombed me out because I had omitted to answer the addition question…Oh, flippin’ ‘eck, I am really naffed off now! I have spat my dummy out (pacifier) and I am going to bed! Bugger!

  7. Congratulations, hope your new addition sleeps outside every night if he/she so chooses! Fresh air is good for the soul, canine or human.

    BTW don’t we all unfortunately involuntarily develop a penchant for stealing our mother’s identity the older we get?

  8. Lisa McGlaun says:

    Wow…I adopted my Australian Red Heeler from a website called Freecycle. It’s like Recycling but all the items are free. Someone actually gave him away to me. He’s the best dog I’ve ever had. No questions asked. It was more like..you want him..you got him.

    Thanks for the comment on my blog too…very sweet of you.

  9. Keli says:

    Thanks to all!
    Agnes: That petty little number box has yet again managed to trick even my most genius of readers and I apologize. For you Harry Potter fans, it’s like my own personal Dobby. Believe me, as soon as I figure out how to get rid of it, I will. If anyone knows, do tell.

  10. jacqueline says:

    Congratulations!

    Years ago when my dad adopted a cat from a rescue they asked how much he would spend on vet care. He said $200 a year.

    They wouldn’t allow him to adopt until he said he would agree to pay for a hip replacement for a cat at $2000.

    He said, “sure”!

    Of course he wanted the cat and figured they wouldn’t even be at the rescue when the cat needed that so called replacement.

    He got the cat.

    And he would be so proud of you getting your new dog!

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