The animals were never here

I was five when my dad promised me a pet.
‘A tiger? An elephant? A monkey?’ I had cried excitedly.
He smiled and said nothing.
I asked when we would get him.
‘A him?!’ Dad chuckled, ‘Soon. But first we need to get him a home.’
I started saving. Three months later, I made dad drive me to the shops on his Harley Chopper, and I bought my new pet a transporter cage.
‘All we need now is Jeremy!’
‘Jeremy?’
‘Our pet!’
‘Ahh. Well, you’ll want something more solid than that. Something that ain’t going to fall over as soon as look at you’, his eyes glinted cheekily.
‘Like a house?’
‘Yeah, like a house.’
Each week after that, I’d carry my pet transporter to the hardware store, and carry back a brick, all I could afford.
Twelve years, a pet transporter and a brick doghouse later, I’m still waiting.

This is something I intended to submit to a competition, but never got around to because of my incredibly awesome organisational skills.