Despite cost, puppies with papers promise less of a mess
Just what kind of mice were these? I looked for a name on the outside of the glass enclosure and found a peeling sticker that said "Boa Haitanski."
I looked at my wife and she said something to the old guy sitting next to us. He confirmed: Those cute little mice were snake snacks. He then asked, "Do you eat these?" and laughed.
So if you're in need of snake food, or if you can no longer stand your children's yammering for a puppy/kitty/rabbit/green iguana, or if you're over 30, single, desperate and think a puppy will help you in your hunt for companionship, get some professional help. Or check out the Gielda Zoologiczna on Saturday and Sunday mornings at the southern edge to lazienki Park. Right there in lazienki Park in an old greenhouse, less than 100 meters from droll Sunday strollers, everything (petwise) is for sale - from cats, rats, turtles and gerbils to puppies, bunnies, fish, and parrots to pet supplies.
But beware - the Gielda Zoologiczna on a Sunday morning can be a little surreal:
• Seemingly empty cars in the parking lot emit muffled whining and yapping.
• Men enter the pet bazaar hugging themselves around the waist, like it's 30-below outside, only to unzip their coats and reveal four shivering Chihuahuas (They shiver even in Mexico), and then it's a race to be the first one to say: "Is that a puppy in your coat or are you just happy to see me?"
• A stuffed hawk with a dead, fake bird lying by its talons hovers about cages of rabbits and other little birds, probably traumatizing them.
• A shabbily dressed geezer holds a dirty, hairy dog. They both look like strays, but the two-legged animal is the one doing the bargaining.
• People come right up next to you, peek at what you're writing in your notebook, look at you and walk away.
• Others watch you write down the words of a sign (for later decoding) and then they look at the sign and reread it, as if they might have missed something the first hundred times they read it.
But as the morning progresses, you become more accustomed to the pet market lifestyle and find yourself watching with dogged determination as someone drains a tub full of filthy turtle water and refills it with dirty city water, or you find yourself actually beginning to like the smell of pet - that tantalizing mingle of wet fur, pet food, urine and stale cigarette smoke.
The pet exchange is busiest with customers and pet owners between 11 a.m. and 2 p.m. on Sundays. During the year, December, obviously, is the busiest time, according to a son or friend or acquaintance of one of the owners. (I'm not so sure about the lineage.)
On the premises is a veterinarian who provides "profilaktyka" care. Now that word either means what it sounds like, or it means preventive medicine. I'm guessing the latter as the vet gives vaccinations and consults with prospective buyers about the health of their prospective pets.
If you're in the dog market, you can go with the unproven youngsters or go for the old pros - like a full-grown (maybe "fully extended" would be a better adjective) basset hound with its sad, droopy eyes and its droopy undercarriage, exhaust system dragging along the ground. If you go with the rookies, you have one big question: How the hell do you know if you're buying a top-of-the-line, well-bred pup or a flea-bitten, puppy-milled mutt? The answer: You don't know, but you can ask.
One woman was selling the cutest 8-week-old black cocker spaniel for zl. 350, though, she let on, she would negotiate. My wife asked the woman if the dog had papers, something to prove its good breeding and lineage. The owner said no, puppies don't have them at that age, but you can get the papers later.
"Later?"
Yes, later, she assured us. That sounded as legit as "he'll call you back in a half-hour."
We moved down to another stall where a man and woman were selling 10-week-old liver-and-white springer spaniels. We asked if the dogs had papers. The question was followed by an eruption of documentation: They started pulling out binders and folders and pictures and papers, tracing the dogs' parents and grandparents and ancestors all the way back to dogdom come.
I asked the guy if the dogs hunted.
"Yes," he said reflexively and then as he understood what I had asked, he continued, "Yesyesyesyesyes. They hunt ahh - " and he looked to the roof and then over at the stuffed hawk "birds and, ahh, these." He held up two fingers, held them behind his head and pointed at the rabbit cages. Rabbits.
More pictures and paperwork found its way into our hands. Then I asked how much. Tip No. 2: The price can be a good indicator of whether the animals are well-bred or come from the mongrel-in-the-basement's litter. The springers cost zl. 800 apiece.
If you go ...
The entrance to Gielda Zoologiczna is across from ul. Parkowa 23. The Gielda Zoologiczna is open from 10 a.m.- 4 p.m. Saturdays and Sundays year-round. A fee of zl. 10 is added to each pet transaction. If you want to try to sell a pet, you have to pay zl. 10. For more information, call 0602-32-22-82 or 0602-32-18-01. In the most random of samplings, most dogs (with papers that you could get at a later date, wink, wink) ran around zl. 350, a parrot about zl. 300, rabbits between zl. 15-zl. 30, turtles zl.50-zl. 80, mice morsels zl. 2 a pop, fish ... who the hell wants a fish (unless it's a carp)
I looked at my wife and she said something to the old guy sitting next to us. He confirmed: Those cute little mice were snake snacks. He then asked, "Do you eat these?" and laughed.
So if you're in need of snake food, or if you can no longer stand your children's yammering for a puppy/kitty/rabbit/green iguana, or if you're over 30, single, desperate and think a puppy will help you in your hunt for companionship, get some professional help. Or check out the Gielda Zoologiczna on Saturday and Sunday mornings at the southern edge to lazienki Park. Right there in lazienki Park in an old greenhouse, less than 100 meters from droll Sunday strollers, everything (petwise) is for sale - from cats, rats, turtles and gerbils to puppies, bunnies, fish, and parrots to pet supplies.
But beware - the Gielda Zoologiczna on a Sunday morning can be a little surreal:
• Seemingly empty cars in the parking lot emit muffled whining and yapping.
• Men enter the pet bazaar hugging themselves around the waist, like it's 30-below outside, only to unzip their coats and reveal four shivering Chihuahuas (They shiver even in Mexico), and then it's a race to be the first one to say: "Is that a puppy in your coat or are you just happy to see me?"
• A stuffed hawk with a dead, fake bird lying by its talons hovers about cages of rabbits and other little birds, probably traumatizing them.
• A shabbily dressed geezer holds a dirty, hairy dog. They both look like strays, but the two-legged animal is the one doing the bargaining.
• People come right up next to you, peek at what you're writing in your notebook, look at you and walk away.
• Others watch you write down the words of a sign (for later decoding) and then they look at the sign and reread it, as if they might have missed something the first hundred times they read it.
But as the morning progresses, you become more accustomed to the pet market lifestyle and find yourself watching with dogged determination as someone drains a tub full of filthy turtle water and refills it with dirty city water, or you find yourself actually beginning to like the smell of pet - that tantalizing mingle of wet fur, pet food, urine and stale cigarette smoke.
The pet exchange is busiest with customers and pet owners between 11 a.m. and 2 p.m. on Sundays. During the year, December, obviously, is the busiest time, according to a son or friend or acquaintance of one of the owners. (I'm not so sure about the lineage.)
On the premises is a veterinarian who provides "profilaktyka" care. Now that word either means what it sounds like, or it means preventive medicine. I'm guessing the latter as the vet gives vaccinations and consults with prospective buyers about the health of their prospective pets.
If you're in the dog market, you can go with the unproven youngsters or go for the old pros - like a full-grown (maybe "fully extended" would be a better adjective) basset hound with its sad, droopy eyes and its droopy undercarriage, exhaust system dragging along the ground. If you go with the rookies, you have one big question: How the hell do you know if you're buying a top-of-the-line, well-bred pup or a flea-bitten, puppy-milled mutt? The answer: You don't know, but you can ask.
One woman was selling the cutest 8-week-old black cocker spaniel for zl. 350, though, she let on, she would negotiate. My wife asked the woman if the dog had papers, something to prove its good breeding and lineage. The owner said no, puppies don't have them at that age, but you can get the papers later.
"Later?"
Yes, later, she assured us. That sounded as legit as "he'll call you back in a half-hour."
We moved down to another stall where a man and woman were selling 10-week-old liver-and-white springer spaniels. We asked if the dogs had papers. The question was followed by an eruption of documentation: They started pulling out binders and folders and pictures and papers, tracing the dogs' parents and grandparents and ancestors all the way back to dogdom come.
I asked the guy if the dogs hunted.
"Yes," he said reflexively and then as he understood what I had asked, he continued, "Yesyesyesyesyes. They hunt ahh - " and he looked to the roof and then over at the stuffed hawk "birds and, ahh, these." He held up two fingers, held them behind his head and pointed at the rabbit cages. Rabbits.
More pictures and paperwork found its way into our hands. Then I asked how much. Tip No. 2: The price can be a good indicator of whether the animals are well-bred or come from the mongrel-in-the-basement's litter. The springers cost zl. 800 apiece.
If you go ...
The entrance to Gielda Zoologiczna is across from ul. Parkowa 23. The Gielda Zoologiczna is open from 10 a.m.- 4 p.m. Saturdays and Sundays year-round. A fee of zl. 10 is added to each pet transaction. If you want to try to sell a pet, you have to pay zl. 10. For more information, call 0602-32-22-82 or 0602-32-18-01. In the most random of samplings, most dogs (with papers that you could get at a later date, wink, wink) ran around zl. 350, a parrot about zl. 300, rabbits between zl. 15-zl. 30, turtles zl.50-zl. 80, mice morsels zl. 2 a pop, fish ... who the hell wants a fish (unless it's a carp)
