“This is humiliating. I hate it, and I hate you,” Bee scowled. She was in prime form this morning. I sighed as I placed her bed on the little fold-out table where I was collecting donations for the petting zoo.
It was summer festival time in Willow Bay. Taking place during the second and third weeks of August, the festival was the busiest time of the year. We even got food trucks from Portland to come down and line the streets, adding a little bit of variety to the eight or so places in town where you could normally get a meal.
As the local vet clinic owner, every year I was the major sponsor for one of the prime family attractions—the petting zoo. That’s where I was now, setting up for the day, as I volunteered to help run the petting zoo every year. Not only was it good for the community, and the donations that people gave to have their children pet local farm animals all went to the local animal shelter, but this year there was an added bonus: my favorite Portland taco truck was parked right at the entrance to the Park, only about fifty feet from where our giant tent was set up. I couldn’t wait for them to open this morning.
Every year, we normally had the local animal shelter bring down all the dogs and cats they had available for adoption as one of the major features of the petting zoo. And while this year we did have a handful of dogs, we also had the incredibly enviable position of all the local cats in the shelter having been adopted! So, to make sure all our animal friends were represented, I had volunteered Bee to come and sleep nicely in her bed at my table and let herself be pet by little kids who wanted to see all the animals.