Happy places

For those of you playing along at home, you may have noticed that I’m posting a lot more lately. Yes, once again, I’m trying to do a post a day for a month, just to prove I can. (If I can.)

I’ve been managing pretty well so far, which is no big deal considering it’s only the 6th. Still, small victories, right?

My work’s new office is next to a giant pet centre – a huge warehouse of supplies for everything from gerbils to great Danes. And so every afternoon as I leave, and walk through the car park, I see people with their pets, their sick Doberman waiting patiently in the back of the car, the anxious Labrador racing to get in the door. 

(Because this is Croatia, there’s a cafe bar at the front of the store. I can imagine few things more odd than going to the pet store to pick up a flea collar and a tube of deworming paste, and stopping for a coffee and a smoke. But then again, although I’m a citizen, although I’m ethnically Croatian, I’ll never be really Croatian.)

Anyway, the thing that strikes me as I walk past the pets and their people is how happy everyone looks. Even though they’re about to go and spend a bunch of money they don’t have on things they don’t need, they’re happy to be at the pet centre with their pet.

I guess for some people it’s the hardware store, or Ikea, or the gardening centre. And some people’s happy place is the pet centre.

(Spoilers: my happy place is anywhere with beer)

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