I had to pick up the part for the air conditioner yesterday. I took a little drive out of town. Art claims he told me I was going to a junkyard and that he gave me clear directions but I might argue that. Well, it is possible all of those things were clear but when you have small children you are often preoccupied with other things and details get forgotten. Or scenario number 2, if you know Art and I, sometimes we get our lines crossed. Not that I could have done much different anyway and I think it's great that my children are exposed to many different life experiences. Any maybe it's all just payback for not agreeing to fix the AC months ago.

I'm sure I only saw one dog when I pulled into the yard as there was a pickup parked in front of the trailer/office obstructing my view of the only thing that wasn't a scrapped car or truck. I was focused on where to park because I wanted the van to be close to the office as I had no intention of dragging the children inside with me. Another hot day, albeit about 5 degrees cooler, and the place looked dirty and dangerous for small children. It was a big place with hundreds of old vehicles lined up for miles the way most junkyards are. I have nothing against junkyards, they actually appeal to the 'greener' side of me because I like that it's an act of recycling and was started long before recycling was an issue we needed to be concerned with. The pickup backed out and I got out of the van and began walking toward a guy with a nicotine stained mustache and beard who we'll call Junkyard Dog #1. On the way, I was accosted by a small dog who climbed my leg leaving dirty pawprints all over my white pantlegs. Nice. I tried to be fairly cool about it and pretended not to notice. I didn't want to seem like a city girl nor did it seem like the kind of place you could yell at the guy for his dog's behaviour. I leaned over and scratched the little guy behind the ears and noticed she (?) was wearing a collar lined with artificial bling. It was one of those small bred not to shed breeds. Cute. I explained to JYD#1 why I was there. He seemed not to know what I was talking about for about 10 seconds and then led me into the trailer. I gave a qick glance back at the van, windows open lots of air, kids safe and staring curiously at the little dog yapping happily at them. The guy who I assumed must be the owner, we'll call Junkyard Dog #2 although I think Art told me his name was Manfred, was sitting behind a desk talking on the phone and poring over an invoice. He seemed annoyed by the call but maybe he just has a very gruff way about him. He was wearing what appeared to be two pairs of reading glasses, one atop the other. Uhhh, OK, maybe a stronger prescription is in order. He never really acknowledged my presence except for the glances he made between my breasts and the very slight sliver of skin between my tshirt and the top of my jeans, if it was even there to begin with. OMG! I quickly adjusted my tshirt and straightened up to my full height so that I felt larger and more intimidating!!! When I looked at him again there was only one pair of glasses perched on his nose and no sign of the other pair. No, I definitely did not imagine that. We waited a bit for him to finish and then I heard Hannah and Josiah laughing. I backed up to the door, not wanting to turn my back on JYD#2 and that was when I noticed all the dogs, big ones, small ones, old ones, mangy ones, no offense to them but they were living their lives at a dirty, dusty old junkyard. Holy crap...I don't have a dog phobia but they can be unpredictable with children so I was glad they were secured safely in the van. The little blinged out one kept taking leaps at the van, which was what Hannah and Josiah were laughing at. She was sitting in the driver's seat hanging out the window no doubt enticing the little guy. I heard JYD#2 hang up and walked back to the desk. JYD#1 told him who I was and what I wanted. The phone rang again and he picked it up. OK then...we'll wait. So JYD#1 looked around and somehow in all that mess found the box. Great but no, he didn't know the price, we'd have to wait for JYD#2 who was still talking on the phone. Then I heard Josiah screaming and Hannah calling, "Mama!" I quickly went out the door as JYD#2 was hanging up. The little dog had jumped through the open van window and was sitting on Josiah's head. Upon closer inspection we would find that the dog was actually perched on the back of the carseat and only appeared to sitting on Josiah's head. I yelled something and as JYD#2 was demanding to know what was happening without ever leaving his chair, JYD#1 was running out the door screaming profanities at the dog. Not used to small children out here. As Hannah would later say, "What did the man say to the dog? It was bad." I couldn't help myself, I started laughing. JYD#1 got the dog out of the van while many other mutts circled like vultures and when I turned around again JYD#2 was answering the phone again. Busy place. I could hear Hannah saying, "Look at all the dogs, mama. Look, there's another one under that truck!" What rhymes with truck?! Get me out of here! I don't remember how it happened but JYD#2 finally got off the phone and barked (no pun intended) a price at me $20 cheaper than Art said he quoted him. I happily paid him and got out of there. I refused to put the box, which was heavy, on the ground for fear of being licked or something else by a strange dog so I thrust it into the arms of JYD#1 and unlocked the back of the van for him. I got in and drove away. We tried to remember how many dogs were actually hanging around on the drive back to town and we agreed that between us we had probably seen about seven. Hannah had a blast and talked about it all day.