Bleat

The Fiance and I spent a good part of last weekend/early this week exploring rental houses. Shhh…we may have found one we really like, TBD.

Anyhow, in our search, we met this really quirky landlord. Of course, I like him. I was showing him pictures of Gertie and he was telling us about some of the wild pets he’s come across in his line of work.

One dude seeking housing asked if it would be alright if he worked from home. Not a problem, only his line of work was raising rattlesnakes and selling their venom for anti-venom products. Surprisingly, he was having a hard time finding a place to rent.

He then described a tenant he once had who was this sweet little new-agey girl. Quite harmless and as nice as could be. As her lease was expiring, he asked if he could show her apartment to someone else. She said it was fine, but not to open the  second bedroom door. There was a…pet inside. Oh, that was fine, the landlord said. He wouldn’t let the pet out. Noooooo, she said. Just best not to open the door.

Sure enough, he goes up there, cracks the door open and standing there on a bed of hay was a little goat. Baaaaah.