This Yard Sale is For the Dogs

Yard sales are the carnivals of suburbia, particularly community yard sales. The vendors range from the mundane housewife (yours truly) to the weird guy with 742 pairs of women's shoes, a half dozen Christmas wreaths, and nothing else. All united in one cause - offloading a bunch of crap we no longer want in hopes of making a few bucks.

Such was the motivation when my mom and I rolled into the church parking lot at 6 a.m. this morning. I was hoping to make enough to shoe my children for the winter (it was have a yard sale or find magic elves, and if I knew where to find magic elves, I'd have put those little fuckers to work years ago). My mom was hoping to make some cash for her trip to Vegas next month. This is the difference between being a mom and being a grandma.

The event attracted some interesting people. But stranger than the shoe and wreath guy, even stranger than the woman who wanted to haggle an item priced at a quarter (no, 17 cents is not a 'reasonable offer'), were the Dog People.

Who brings their dog to a yard sale? Lots of people, apparently. I had between 50 and 75 stuffed animals, and sold most of them to dog owners. If the dog was there, they got to pick it out themselves. Does Bitsy like the kitty cat? Or the widdle pony? If the dog wasn't there, I was subjected to a lecture on why the froggy webkinz's legs were just right for Bitsy's mouth, and her aversion to Pooh Bear (and who doesn't like Pooh Bear? Your dog is an asshole, lady!).

I spent a solid five minutes describing all the features (and even putting on!) the Baby Bjorn before the woman I was speaking to revealed it was for her dog. Right now the woman carries her in a backpack, but she's afraid it's going to jump out. Maybe because it's mortified to be riding around in a freaking backpack! She is a dog. It must be so humiliating for her to run into her little doggie friends at the park.

Hey, Bitsy! You want to play chase?
Yeah, uhh...I gotta sit in this backpack.
What? Don't you want to run around and sniff butts and lick balls and pee on stuff?
Yeah, but, you know. The human. She likes me in the backpack.
Bitsy, you look like an asshole!
What am I supposed to do? Eat her face or something?
Well, jeez. You don't have to just sit there like that. Wait a minute. Are you wearing a diaper?

Can you imagine if I put Shutup Roxy in a backpack? She probably would eat my face, and rightfully so.