One woman, one house, five dogs and a very bad cold.

I have friends – yes, really – and they often come to the rescue in my perhaps somewhat overwrought life. And occasionally we come to their rescue. Not usually a rescue, though; more a polite request for assistance than a panicked cry for help. Regardless, we are quite happy to help.

The help is usually in the same form – watching puppies. They have one and if their dad is out of town then the have their one and his two. They’re small dogs, though, so three isn’t such a big deal. And since my boy is to be trusted, I had no problem saying that yes, he could spend Saturday night at their house while they tripped the light fantastic in Rosetown.

Well. Nothing, of course, ever goes to plan. And something came up for the kids that was sufficiently huge that I agreed they could spend the night at their dad’s house. Yes, I know we had agreed to puppy sit, but it was a very big deal. So: I, obviously, could go over and puppy sit. But…I have two dogs of my own. One a sweet but goofy looking dachshund/spaniel cross, the other a solid 110 pounds of bounding black lab muscle and goodwill. I couldn’t leave them alone just so someone else’s dogs aren’t alone – how is that fair?

I thought about bringing their three to my house, but I am fenceless in the back yard. Not to mention that the three dogs would then have new mom, new dogs and new surroundings. So in the end I did what any crazy person would do: I took my two over to their house.

The first minutes were pandemonium, but sufficiently short lived that I’m hoping there will be no noise complaints from neighbours. The crux of the madness was their three barking their little heads off, and my two running around in apparent accident prone ecstasy. I got my two into the back yard, settled their three, brought mine in, took theirs out and then got all of us settled indoors. And read the note that had been left about walks and food and similar things.

The walk notes went out the window. I took the dogs one at a time – mainly because my big one needs all the muscle I can muster to keep from being dragged down the street on my back like some bad western movie stunt, and because one of their dogs will walk home from the park with me but not to the park with me. So I carry her there and walk her back, much to the amusement of the neighbours.

I did get them all walked – and let me tell you, I’m counting the whole ridiculous circus of walking as a full work out – and we settled down for some TV. Except I couldn’t get anything but one tiny corner of the screen to work. So no television. I brought books, though – of course! – so I read one and then let them all outside again. The whole reading time they got along inasmuch as they weren’t growling at each other or barking like mad all over the place. I kept Lexi (she’s the big one) on a long leash. Now, this leash let her get all around the living room, but as long as she was on it the other dogs were fine. When I took her off it – which meant she had the SAME RANGE she did when it was on, the insane barking started all over again.