Here's the beginning of some ramblings in the voice of the character I described here.
I always know it's gonna be a bad day if I pull into the parking lot and there's a car there waiting for me. People who get up that early in the morning to come to the pound never have nothing nice to do.
I slammed the door to my beatup red Chevy convertible--a car I loved partly because everyone who sees tells me how impractical it is to have a car like that in New England, as if my Southern accent means I can't know anything about snow. I strolled in and locked the door behind me. We don't open til 9 and therefore I don't see customers until 9. I need 10 minutes with the dogs to say my hellos, see how they fared alone for the night. It breaks my heart to leave them here--which is why I've got four dogs living in my 1,400 square foot house. They may be messy, but they're easier to live with then men, I'll tell you that. My dogs love me no matter what I make or don't make for dinner, no matter how messy I keep the house, no matter if I sit in the same sweat pants without a shower for 3-days straight. Which I've been known to do. Hell, it's cold here in the winter. Too cold to get wet or get naked. Maybe I'd feel differently about the naked part if I had a partner to heat things up. But I haven't had one of those in 17 years. Thank heavens. As I said, dogs are much easier to live with.