Since I moved to Forrestville, one good thing after another has happened. I know that can’t last. The law of averages and bad things happening to good people prove it. However, I can’t let that get me down. I can’t let it control me. Yet, that stupid feeling won’t leave me alone. At work I throw myself into cleaning and feeding all the animals. It’s yoga day, so I know that Mr. Rigglesworth had a blowout and his entire kennel will need to be hosed out. To confirm it, Saylor walks by, holding Mr. R at a distance, her nose wrinkled. “We have a fucking new girl, so no poop duty for you,” she says. Instead of being happy at the news, the dread inside me grows. “That’s good.” “Totally. I’ll introduce you to her after this poopy head gets a bath. She’s getting some gloves.” Saylor marches away. Suddenly, I hear Saylor’s panicked voice pleading with the dog. “Don’t shake, Mr. R. Please don’t shake.” “Shit.” It’s all I can do to keep from laughing, but on the inside I’m dying.
