Megan and Brad 2 - the Braddening.
Have you ever absolutely screamed at a dog after they have done something heinous and the dog looks at you with perfect calm and unflustered eyes and says in perfect English “You’re not my mom”? I have. I think. I was a little flustered myself. Megan and Brad’s owners had a chance to take their whole family to Germany for a youth soccer tournament. They needed a safe place to stash their hellhounds. They’re such nice people. What was I supposed to say, no? Ugh. I should have but I couldn’t. I took them for three weeks. Twenty-one days. I had to change the doorknob on the office to a round, unlevered style so I could keep the cat alive inside (Megan has learned how to open the lever style knobs). I had to remove the garbage from the kitchen every time I showered so they couldn’t spread it over the floor. I had to remove all food items from the counter (I forgot one day and came back MINUTES later to a few seeds and sauce that was once ten dollars worth of farm stand tomatoes). I had to keep Megan from mauling my collie. I had to keep Brad from attacking the other dogs’ food dishes by feeding him separately in the laundry room. I had to pull Brad off Megan when he attacked her for going for a morsel of food dropped on the floor. And finally, I had to bandage my wrist where Brad bit it for pulling him off his housemate in a fit of hunger rage. (Was Brad intact (unneutered)? Why yes he was. Did he pee on the floor too? Why yes he did.)
Ricky keeps his distance
If I hadn’t already decided to end my Rover experience before Megan and Brad's final stay, this three-week marathon would have done it. Megan and Brad’s owners are good parents and responsible dog owners, and I really enjoy their company. Their dogs are hellhounds. I’m sorry they think this is how it is to have dogs, because it is not. It is only how it is to have pure evil in the shape of a cute, soft, floppy-eared snuggle pooch.
Paxton and Carter
Paxton and Carter are two big ol’ labs. At the meet-and-greet, their owner seemed dubious about my abilities to keep her dogs exercised and fed properly, as she said she ran something like five miles a day with them. The grey one seemed to take an instant dislike to Ricky’s bouncy overtures. Rocket wouldn’t stop barking. I thought for sure they would say thanks but no thanks and I wasn’t unhappy about that. But wouldn’t you know, several days later (I’m assuming after she had tried every other possibility), she booked with me.
Rocket: “Look at these dorks.”
Paxton and Carter stayed for four days. They were labs about it. Mostly easygoing and friendly as long as you don’t ask my cat. They apparently did expect to move faster than walking pace because my shoulder still hurts from the leash pulling. Shoulders heal slowly because they are a weird, oddly fitting joint. Mine still hurts and may continue to hurt for weeks. But other than leash-pulling, cat-chasing and a disturbing level of ball obsession, Paxton and Carter were a relatively easy end to my Rover summer.
Learn from what I Learned
I learned that Ricky loves to have guests.
Ricky taught a greyhound to play the tug toy game. A-level hosting.
I learned that Rocket hates guests and resents them loudly and sarcastically.
WHEN ARE THEY LEAVING
I learned that many owners fudge the facts when it comes to whether their precious pooches get along with cats.
Please may I enter the rest of the house again?
I learned that if I think dog sitting is a passive thing that I can do while painting, cleaning, writing, or any other rewarding activity, I am sorely mistaken. Dogs who are away from their families and in new environments with strange dogs, cats and people are understandably not at their best and need constant attention. They don’t really care what you would rather be doing.
I learned that I could pretty much be booked solid if I wanted to be, and it is a relatively “me” sort of activity, but I would not do it again unless I had no pets of my own. It is not fair to force strange dogs, off balance in a new environment, on to my own pets who did not ask for this. Even Ricky, who loves to have company, became quiet and wary around all these new dogs, some of whom used him as jungle gym. Unfortunately, I don’t see a time in which I don’t have dogs of my own. I’m better at choosing them and training them.
Finally
I’m not sure this was helpful to anyone, but it made me feel like I got something out of this Year of the Dog other than a sore shoulder. Come visit Ricky. He’ll love it.