I’m not a night owl, so when I saw the transport time to pick up my puppies, I joined the chorus of grumbling that came from pretty much everyone whose new foster dog was on the last stop scheduled to arrive at 11:30pm Friday. Normally, transport arrives around 9:30 (although one recent transport didn’t arrive until closer to 1am thanks to traffic on 95). I am generally sound asleep by 9:30, so that was already pushing it, but 11:30?
I registered my unhappiness but accepted that it wasn’t within my realm of control. I’ve long ago come to grips with the fact that fostering can be a lot of things and one of those is inconvenient.
Friday night, we had a nice send-off dinner for my oldest who was moving to Phoenix the next day for a job and then I settled in to binge watch Pitbulls and Paroles until it was time to go. In the end, transport arrived at 10:45; somehow like the pilots flying east, they made up time in the air. Continue reading Meet the Pep Boys- Manny, Mo, and Jack!