In all my 52 years so far on this earth I’ve never owned a dog. It’s not that I don’t love animals. I absolutely do but it just never worked out timing wise. My dad refused to have a dog while we were growing up except for the 1 year my mother brought home a maltese terrior that barked at the wind about 23 hours a day. That lasted for about a year before the dog “ran away” My dad was never directed implicated in the disappearance but his alibi the day the dog went missing is quite flimsy. I imagine Muffin went on to have a happy dog life a few blocks away. So after intense childhood dog separation anxiety therapy I eventually got older, went to college, got a job, got married and it just never seemed like the right time to get a dog. We got cats instead. Cats are easy. Here’s some food. Pee in the litter box. We will be back in a few days. Don’t destroy the furniture. Capture a few mice. Don’t put them on mom’s pillow. Good luck.
Whenever I visit friends with dogs I consciously spend time greeting the dog, playing with him or her, feeding the dog treats that it should probably not have, get it all riled up and I eventually leave dealing with zero ramifications of whatever bad habits I may have instilled. It’s like grandparenting. All the ups, none of the downs. As a result the rep on me from my friends is that all dogs love me and of yes of course they do. I’m the fun dog uncle. The canine enabler. Dog’s best treat dealer. No discipline. No downside. So invariably I get asked on occasion to dog sit. Usually I say no for various reasons. I may be traveling that week or just busy and out of the house alot. Or maybe I just don’t like your dog enough to pick up its human sized poop. But a few weeks ago some friends asked if I would dog sit while they were out of the country traveling and it happened to fall on a week when I was home and not doing much. Plus this particular dog (Georgia) is just a love bug. So happy and loves to be cuddled and seems to be well behaved so I said sure why not. Let the adventures begin.
The family was leaving for their trip super early in the morning so they left Georgia at home, gave me instructions on how to get into the house and had all of the dog gear ready to go for me to transport back to my place where we would home base while they were gone. So much gear! Bed. Food. Toys. Treats…my trigger word. A bed crate the seemed be made out of pure iron ore. I could barely get it in the back of the SUV. I arrive later that morning and the dog is super happy to see me for about 5 minutes before she starts to ask dog questions in her mind. Why are you here when my parents are not home and why is all my stuff piled by the door? Where are we going and tell me again you are here? The shine is off doncle and we are hour 1 into day 1 of 4. All I can say pooch is it’s just you and me and get in the car kiddo.
After transporting what seemed like a street value of $10K in dog gear into my place and setting it up I let Georgia out of the car, into my house and just sat on the couch while she temporarily looses her mind in excitement exploring her new home for the next few days. Every room is explored. Every corner. Up the stairs. Down the stairs. In the bedroom. Out of the bedroom. In the kitchen. In the bathroom. I suspect but can’t confirm toilet water was sampled in each bathroom. I make a mental note to ban dog kisses the rest of the week. After the excitement dies down for her reality sets in. She sits in front of me, looks at me and if I could read dog minds she’s thinking it looks like I’m staying with this dude…for a while based on the equipment he transported over. I thought this would cue a doggy meltdown but she just jumped up on the couch, plopped down and took a long nap. This pooch is a champ!
Georgia got walked atleast twice a day and mornings were typically when she would do her business. I embraced being a responsible temporary dog owner with my poop bags in tow, begrudgingly. I think this was the best part of Georgia’s day when she could dream up how to mess with me. She clearly had some patterns on preferable poop places. If a neighbor had a sign out saying please be courteous and don’t let you dog poop or pee on my lawn it was instantly elevated for strong consideration. Homes that had huge bay windows in front were a favorite of hers. No side yard inconspicuous evacuation. She likes to be watched it seems. If the family was sitting at the table looking out at us that usually sealed the deal on where she would do her business. And the final factor was to pick a location that was the farthest from the house on our daily walks so I’d have to carry the poop bag the longest time possible. She secretly pledged never to poop in my backyard the entire time.
The first morning wasn’t too bad. Solid poop. All lawn. Scoop and scurry. I scored myself a 9 out of 10 on technique and minimal poop residual left behind. The owner of the victim lawn did not come out after me so my technique must have been acceptable to them as well. The second day Georgia decided to take her poop game to another level by eying a nearby lawn but diverting at the last minute to the rock garden in close proximity to do her business while I wasn’t paying close attention. My first reaction is hey this is a tribute to those embracing drought resistance landscaping. She’s environmentally conscious. Good dog! Until I realize its really hard to pick up poop on small rocks. And lets add in a touch of diarrhea so now its more like a rock painting. Now I’m not scooping poop. I’m scooping poopy rocks. And it smells. Bad. Poop bags are not engineered to carry so much weight. One seem tear and it would be a poop grenade going off in very close proximity. I’m atleast 6 blocks from my house. The smell gets worse. Other dog owners walking their dogs come out of the woodwork prompting Georgia to try to pull me toward each of them on the leash further testing my my ability to keep my nuclear grade poops rocks contained. I do make it back to the house successfully. Dry heaving diverted, atleast for today. Day 3 of morning poop walks I embraced strategy to learn from my past errors. No more taking long extended walks far from the house. Tight patterns staying within a 2 block radius of my home were implemented. Drought resistant lawns and rock gardens are avoided at all costs. Eventually she found the perfect lawn to do her business, hit her target, and compact package for easy clean up….. It was my Mission Accomplished banner on a warship moment….And then she took 3 more steps on to the neighbors front stone walk way and firehosed perfectly all over it. No poop bag was going to clean this mess. I pick up the solid stuff, walk it back and came back with a wet rag to try and cover up the brown massacre…poorly. I make a mental note never to walk down this particular street ever again.
When we were not driving down home values in the neighborhood the rest of the day was primary a circulation of pre eating naps, eating and post eating naps. Outside of those cycles she would occasionally wimper and bark and try to get my attention. This is why dogs need to be taught to speak because I could never decipher what she wanted. 1 wimper and 2 barks could mean I’m still hungry. 2 wimpers and 3 barks could mean I need to pee. 3 wimpers and one bark could mean turn on Thursday Night Football. I was baffled and she would just look at me like why don’t you understand me you dope. Eventually bedtime could come. Georgia typically sleeps in a bed crate at night which I set up but after brushing my teeth I walked back in my bedroom with her curled up on one side of my bed with an expression saying mommy let’s me stay in bed when daddy’s not home. Well I’m not your mommy but as long as you don’t put your dog bum on my pillow ever you can stay. She could not make make that commitment but I caved anyway. Of course the next time to keep me guessing and kept barking by the side of my bed, refusing to jump up on the bed. 2 minutes later I find her in the crate fast asleep. Somehow I should have known this. Night 3 back on the bed right in the middle. She thought it was my night to sleep in the crate clearly!
Alas the neighboors returned home 2 days later and Georgia was safely transported home. If there is dog sitting website on the dark web (and I’m sure there is) I think I would get rated highly overall if only for the entertainment value of watching me scoop poop like a certified rookie. I’m still not ready to get a dog of my own but when the time comes I’ll look back on this time fondly but for now stick to being the best dog uncle around.