And I don't mean just mine! Although yes, last night I would have happily given them away to anyone who asked. Without even giving the new owners any warning. Buyer beware and all that.
Although, to be fair to the dog that ate a stack of crepes, is it her fault, or the fault of the boy who left said stack on a plate on the edge of a counter? A bit of both, I think. But the boy I'm keeping.
Anyway, that said I stepped into the breach on Friday for friends who needed one moment of dog sitting. Or at least I TRIED to step into the breach.
Tall boy and I went over to their house to let the dogs out, because M was away and Lyn was on a drunken cruise somewhere. The Love Boat? Maybe, I don't remember. Boat, disco, black light. That's what I remember.
So over to dogville we go, letting ourselves in the back door. So, naturally the dogs bark their fool heads off. You'd think they'd be saying "yeah! we get to go and poop!" but apparently they were saying "intruder alert! intruder alert!".
So open the door and invite them out. No deal.
We go well into the house, let them figure out who we are and make them go out. No deal.
We sit quietly on the couch with the back door open so they can relax enough to go outside. No deal.
We go to the front door, so we are not standing between them and the freedom of the back yard. No deal.
We try to herd them outside. No deal.
We try to bribe them outside. No deal.
We make sure they have food and water, and try again to make them go outside. No deal.
And then, in a moment of craziness - because I really don't want them pooping in the house - I decide to pick them up, take them outside, attach leashes and take them for a walk. This, apparently, was a big deal. Tantamount to mudering their owners. Because Monty bit me. Bit me, the little monster! And I'm just trying to help them out. Didn't break the skin but left a mark, and made me decide I'd had enough.
My apologies to B and L. Monty looked totally ready to bite again, and Madison was thinking of joining in. I did my best.
Monday, August 27, 2007
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1 comment:
You're the mom. so you make up some lemonade or tea, and then sit everyone down at the kitchen table and explain to them what they have to do to continue living. Or maybe that's what you do with kids.
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