Tuesday, August 11, 2015

When You Make A Snarky Comment About Our Fur-Kids...It Pisses Us Off

Dear Lady at Target Who Made The Snarky Comment,

Yeah. We heard you. Wait. Let's back up a bit. That's not a proper way to begin a letter now is it? Ahem. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Lisa. My wife's name is Lisa too.

Yes, we've heard of Lisa Lisa & Cult Jam. Yes, we're aware of the challenges that accompany having the same name. No, we don't have the same last name...yet. Yes, things will get confusing when we finally do.

A lot of people know us as the Bodacious Biscuit Love ladies. For the past almost-two years we've been baking homemade peanut butter dog biscuits in our kitchen. We spread the biscuit love to our local animal shelters as well as rescue and foster pups. And, we offer our biscuits to our Bodacious Community. On occasion, we use our biscuits to raise money to purchase much needed items for our local animal shelters and donate Bodacious Raffle Baskets for shelter and rescue fundraising events.

What this translates to is we go through an obnoxious amount of peanut butter per week.

Anyway, we frequent our local Target once or twice a week. Most of the time it's to purchase Skippy Natural Peanut Butter. Target offers the lowest price and, most of the time, offers a twin pack for $10. We have yet to find anywhere else close by that offers the twin pack.

Last month, while we were out and about delivering biscuit love and restocking our displays, we needed more peanut butter. Dork moment on my part. Those happen a lot. Since we were in the area of our Twin-Pack-Target, it was convenient to make a pit-stop on the way home.

On that particular day, our Lil' Lobo was assisting with biscuit love deliveries. Neither one of us wanted to wait in the car. I had worked at my desk most of the day. Granted, the distance from the car to the entrance and back, and steps required to fetch our peanut butter, wasn't going to break any Fitbit records, but it was something. A stretch. Stroll. An escape from my virtual world. We certainly weren't going to leave our Lil' Lobo in the car.

Regardless of the outside temperature, we don't leave our fur-kids in the car alone. Ever.

We didn't think twice about taking Lil' Lobo into the store. I held him while Lisa grabbed his blanket from the back seat. After snagging a cart, she made a little nest where a child would normally sit. That's exactly where Lil' Lobo sat...all 7 pounds of him. It's not the first time he has frequented the Twin-Pack-Target. He likes his little adventures and being doted on by the "hoomans" he encounters through the store.

And, this isn't the first store he has been in.

As we neared the peanut butter aisle, there you were. Casually dressed. I suck at the whole guess-your-age-thing so I won't even go there. You had a young child in the main portion of the cart. It was obvious he was in dire need of a nap, diaper change, snack...and tissue. I didn't have a problem with any of that. I get it. Late afternoon, cranky child, you're tired, he's tired, and you just want to be home.

As Lisa grabbed peanut butter from the shelf, you pushed your cart past ours. Your kid saw our fur-kid.

"Mommy. Doggy. Doggy."

Within a split second, you replied.

"That thing shouldn't be allowed in here. Now sit down."

Yeah. We heard you. I'm guessing your snarky comment was intended for us to hear. To this day, I still can't describe the noise that escaped from my mouth after I heard what you said. It was gasp-gah-huh-pfffft all rolled into one. You probably heard it.

First of all, use your words. It's not a thing. It's a dog. Even your kid knew that.

What's the deal? Did our thing in the cart offend you? Do you hate dogs? PMS? Sleep deprivation? Were you irritated because we brought our dog into Target? Seriously. Help me out here.

Our dogs aren't just dogs. They're not just pets either. They're our fur-kids. We have three. All rescues. Our lives revolve around them. They're our world. Our lives have changed drastically in the past few years. No vacations. No overnight trips. Their well being, health, happiness and everything between is our priority and we spend a great deal of money to ensure that. While I realize there's a huge difference between fur-kids and "hooman" kids, the bottom line of the above mentioned is similar in nature.

When you make a snarky comment about one of our fur-kids, it pisses us off. You pissed us off. There was no need for your hasty words. Had my wife and I walked by YOU and commented on your smelly, loud mouthed, snotty nosed kid...how would you have responded? You were so offended by our Lil' Lobo sitting quietly in the cart, right?

Don't you think the other shoppers around you could have done without smelling a soiled diaper and listening to the screechy, high-pitched, temper tantrum your child was throwing? And what about your child thinking the goop spewing from his nose was play slime? You let him touch the cart and the products in your cart. Did you not give consideration to the next person who was going to use your cart or the checkout clerk who would be handling the products laced with snot?

No, you didn't. 

Next time you're irritated with the world, maybe you should stay home. While you're at it, work on your social skills. It's rude to make snarky comments loud enough for someone to hear just because you don't approve of something. And, give a little thought to how you would feel if someone passed judgement on your kid. We may not have "hooman" kids, but we have fur-kids.


The Bodacious Ladies

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