We went to Jillian’s in Boston again. This time, as well as the pool tables and bar and the video games, they had added a petting zoo.
We felt sorry for the animals, being in such a noisy environment and exposed to cigarette smoke and alcohol. So we decided to liberate them into the pastoral surroundings of downtown Boston, in the hope that they would make their way to the Fenway.
It went pretty well once I found a feed bag that had been left behind a slot machine. The sheep were a bit reluctant, and when they finally emerged into the sunlight we saw that they weren’t real prize sheep—they were cheap plastic prize sheep. Instead of wool they had shiny PVC.
I was talking to the llama, trying to persuade it to have a word with the guinea pigs about making a break for it, when I woke up.