Fourteen Minutes and Thirty Two Seconds

Fourteen minutes and thirty two seconds and I’m still standing here. The arfy barky rendition of On Top of Old Smokey that’s playing in one continuous loop from hell in the background of the pet store isn’t helping either. I came in for dog food, dog food and maybe a toy that wouldn’t look too silly lying out on the lawn. That’s it. Go in, pick up the food, walk by the toys, pick one up and I’m out. Except it’s not that easy, never has been and never will be because the pet stores have figured out that the more choices they can give you, the longer you’ll have to stay in the store – and the longer you stay in the store, well you guessed it, the more inane and ridiculous products we will leave with.

Fifteen minutes and eleven seconds and I’ve got the dog food part narrowed down to two choices which is pretty amazing considering that I have decided against at least 56 other products all claiming to make my dog the next Lassie. I used to buy just any old food at God forbid, the grocery store,

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