If I Can’t Have the Boys, Neither can my Friends (Part one)
January 10th 2012 21:00
Just before Christmas, Brett told me he would give me the number for the vet who has taken custody of Butterscotch and Gingersnap. After a few days with no reply to my text message, I decided to Google her. She had an unusual name (for the purposes of this blog, I will call her Anastasia) but I was unable to locate her. I remembered Brett saying she worked somewhere near Coogee so I started calling all the veterinary practices around the Coogee area. It took two phone calls to track her down.
When the lady gave me her business details, I thought she must have been mistaken; she was a dog trainer. Still, I rang the number and explained to the lady who picked up the phone that I wasn’t sure I had the right person but I was enquiring about the whereabouts of two cats called Butterscotch and Gingersnap.
She told me straight away they had been rehomed. “They’re now with an old lady and they’re very happy. So is she.”
She then went on about Brett. Without mentioning his name, she said, “He’s a funny man.” I could tell from her voice she meant funny as in weird as opposed to hilarious. “He owes me a lot of money.”
“How much?” I asked.
“Twelve hundred dollars.”
I almost gasped. I then wondered if we were talking about the same person but how many people have two cats called Butterscotch and Gingersnap? Anyway, her next comments clinched it: “He told me he couldn’t afford to keep paying boarding fees so I agreed to take them in but I still wanted to be paid up to that point. He’s unreliable. He doesn’t return my calls or answer my emails. I’ve taken aback to be talking to someone who knows Brett. Can you please remind him he owes me money?”
Horrified, I agreed. “Yes. I keep in regular contact with him. I’m sorry that this has happened. I was under the impression you were happy to keep them for free. I didn’t realise you were going to get them rehomed as I wanted to take them. I’m very attached to them. Are you able to take my details in case they need to be rehomed again?”
Anastasia sounded reluctant and reiterated how happy their new parent was with them.
“I know but things happen. Circumstances change,” I said.
“I’m surprised he didn’t offer them to you.”
“I got the impression he wanted them to go to someone who lives in a house while I live in a unit,” I said by way of explanation, neglecting to mention my friend who could have taken them.
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