As you probably know, we're clinging to our place in the lower middle class. Just. But, clinging. So, it was a shock, just before Christmas to have someone appear on our porch, and thrust a holiday food basket at Leah, and then leave before she could say, "Thank you," or even, "What the..." Surprising, because we didn't think we needed food aid, and disappointing because it wasn't like a turkey dinner, it was Cup Noodles and Top Ramen. Apparently they thought we were poor, but not, you know, the deserving poor. We've been moving the bag from room to room trying to find a place for it until the letter carrier's food drive in May.
When we came home from shopping yesterday (I'm not showing off, we do shop for food) we found that the dogs had crawled into the bag, and eaten their way out, and then spread the leftovers around the house. Truly, a doggy bag, as it were. While I was talking to the vet ER, Karen was reporting new discoveries. Ultimately, the dogs didn't go to the ER, but did get checked out by their regular vet today where we spent around two hundred dollars on non-emergency pet care.
So, the thing that was supposed to ameliorate our poverty, has only served to increase it. It's like the reformed Scrooge sent a turkey to the Cratchits and it pecked Tiny Tim's eyes out.
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