One weekend when my kids were young, we visited the local animal shelter. We’d always had good luck adopting a pet this way in the past, but on this day it felt more like a scene from Prison Break. As one dog banged his water bowl against the bars, 40 others barked obscenities and snapped at the air.
“I don’t think today’s the day,” I said. My husband, David, agreed. But unfortunately, we’d brought our kids along. “How about this cute one?” Sophie shouted. She was pointing at one of the hardened criminals we’d already taken a pass on. “So cute!” Zoë yelled. “Can we take her out to play?”
We asked the shelter employee if that was OK, and unfortunately she said yes. And so we took Ma Barker outside,
