Recently while dog sitting for my youngest son, I was subjected to a lot of cuddles and licks and I must say it was so nice when we got home everyday to see her tiny tail wagging like it was on crack. I had forgotten what a joy a dog can be, only problem was I couldn’t leave her inside when we went out because she is not house trained, and I was worried she would have a pee party on the furniture.
My only concern with the yard was the side gate so I blocked it with a couple of layers of paving bricks, and filled 2 buckets of water and put them in front of the bricks. I was confident it was escape proof besides, why would she run she was getting treated like royalty? The rest of the yard was secure and she had a big kennel full of blankets so I was confident she was happy and safe.
All was going really well until one day when we got home there was no waggy tail, no little furball jumping with delight to see us for some reason the little bitch got through my barricades and dug a gigantic tunnel under the side gate. I was so angry and upset but also very impressed with the little mongrel’s digging skills.
I was running round the neighbourhood like a headless chook. I am looking after their dog and I lost it…OMG. The grandkids will hate me. Then I thought maybe somebody picked her up and took her to the vet, so we went up there and yes they had her but because she had no collar and her microchip was out of date they sent her to the pound. I didn’t even know she had a microchip. “I said she must have pulled her collar off on the gate when she was digging her way to freakin’ China, I am looking after her and you sent her to The Big House, she will never survive”. I rang the Pound but naturally I was too late: they were already closed for the day and she had to stay overnight.
I didn’t sleep much that night, worrying if the damn dog was going to survive without her jumper and thermal blankets. I knew she would be terrified and after emptying the remains of my bank account and offering to sell one of my kidneys on the black market, they said I could have her back.
They brought a very sorry looking Blitzen out to us. Her back was bent up and her tail was tucked up that tight I was worried she was going to give herself an enema! When we got home she ran straight to her kennel and did not come out for a couple of hours and she has been super quiet ever since but I was no longer prepared to leave her in the yard while we were gone. I wasn’t going to take any chances with the little mongrel, I started locking her in the laundry because if she ran again and survived long enough to get to the Pound, I would have to sell myself to get her back and at my age that would take forever.
With one morning to go she choked on one a bit of a Schmacko. I thought, “Here we go, she survives a stint in the The Big House, I get her back and now 24 hours before she goes home she is going choke to death on a Schmacko. I was patting her on the back trying to encourage her to cough it up. She managed to clear it at pretty much the same time she peed on my shoe.
I handed her back today. My son has no idea what a relief it was to say goodbye to the little mongrel – dog sitting pisses me off!
Have you ever had to babysit a dog or cat for a friend or family member? Was it memorable for all the wrong reasons?