Friday, June 18, 2010
Sleeping...gone to the dogs
Sometimes our ambitions outweigh our abilities. I, for instance, have never owned a dog. I have had plenty of practice spending lots of time with Lauren's dog Pepper, but for the most part, it's always been Lauren, Pepper and me. Yet, somehow, when I committed to dogsitting Pepper and her Jack Russell terrier "friend", Annabelle, it did not occur to me that I was in over my head.
It has instead, gradually occurred to me as I am in the midst of it, culminating with me just stepping in poop in the living room. Before you ask, of course I wasn't being cautious of poop. One is cautious of poop in parks even on the sidewalk. Why would I anticipate a pile of poop in the living room?
Pepper is a 65 pound Black Lab, German Shepherd mix. Annabelle is a 10 pound Jack Russell terrier. Which dog do you think has pooped in three different places? (And these are significant poops.) Which dog do you think harasses the other...stealing her food and drinking her water? Which dog do you think peer pressures the other into being loud and rambunctious? That's right, the pipsqueak.
About 10 minutes ago, a cartoon unfolded and I was in it. The kindly widow who lives across the way, knocked on the door to deliver bird seed so we could feed her birds while she is away. As you might imagine, the five foot tall, 73-year-old woman (who feeds birds and squirrels) is intimidating to two dogs. First, they went nuts barking in unison. Then, when I opened the door they bolted. Pepper is OK without a leash. Annabelle, on the other hand, was making a jail break. She took off like a funny car toward the street, hung a sharp left and was out of site. Not to be outdone, Pepper chased her. I was halfway down the street screaming both dogs' names when I realized I was in my red monkey boxer shorts. Since, I didn't feel like getting arrested tonight should the flap open, I ran back toward the house and found some gym shorts. it was on this quest that I stepped in the poop. With the poop patty on my flip flop, I ran back outside prepared for an all night search. Fortunately, Pepper came right back. I found Annabelle on the back stoop of a nearby home. I had to go up the driveway to scoop her up. I was glad I was not in my underwear.
Sleeping has been a luxury with these two. Pepper will go to bed when I go to bed. She sleeps through the night in her own bed just feet from me. Sometimes she has dreams and whimpers. It's adorable. Since Annabelle arrived, if anyone so much as sneezes within a four block radius of this house, both dogs have a fit. For the past three nights these fits have happened almost hourly. So, to those of you who have kept me company on the morning runs this week, my apologies for dragging down the pace.
But despite all that. Despite the indoor pooping...Oh by the way, I know it's not Pepper pooping because every time I let her out to do her business, she poops and since Annabelle is eating all her food, I know she can't be doing double poops. Despite the barking, I am enjoying the company of these four-legged ladies. Yep, I have even become one of those people that has conversations with them. I look forward to seeing them when I come home. I look forward to sneaking Pepper treats when Annabelle is not looking, I even enjoy walking them, even though Annabelle resists my lead and makes me drag her down the street. As I say all these kind, loving things, I realized there is still poop on my foot.
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The most unbelievable thing about this post is not the stepping in poop, not the running in public in boxers, it's the fact that you've never owned a dog. How does someone in America make it to 27, 28 (how old are you again?) without ever having owned a dog? Awesome post - I laughed the laughter of one who has experienced everything in this story (with the possible exception of feeding an elderly lady's birds).
ReplyDeleteI am 26. Do I have another two years before it becomes unacceptable that I have never owned a dog? Technically, we had a dog when I was little, but I was really little. AND we only had it for one year. That is all my dad could take of him destroying my home and yard.
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