Dog Sitting in Saint John

You may or may not know this, but Holly and I have a pet sitting service.  For pet sitting, the holidays are busy times and we've been doing an overnight stay with a German shepherd, a regular customer, since Boxing Day.

Here's a summary of the events through the dog's mind:

Day 1 - Yay, they're home! Woof, woof! I knew they wouldn't be gone long so soon after Christmas.  Woof!  Hey, what, aw it's that shifty guy again.  How long is he going to be around?  Where's the girl?  I like her.  Okay, I'm up for a good walk, but why is there so much ice over everything?

Day 5 - Finally, it's past six, about time you're up.  What's the matter, did my barking last night wake you?  You try being left alone in the kitchen with only a rubber ball for entertainment for the entire night.  It's hard to find good help these days.  Oh, by the way, there's a lot of that white stuff all over everything outside.  You don't plan on walking me far in that shit do you?

Day 6 - Here he comes.  Hey, what happened to you last night?  The girl and I watched a movie together.  You were tired?  What do you have to be tired about?  Try trudging through that white stuff with it up to your shoulders, then having you watch me while I take a dump.  Good dog, I'll show you a good dog.

Day 7 - It sure is getting cold.  What was all that gunfire-like noise coming from Uptown last night?  Why was I barking?  You kidding me?  I was pretty sure we were being invaded.  Fireworks?    Maybe they should plow the sidewalks so you're not tripping all over my ass on those crazy streets.

Day 8 - They're gone again.  She's gone. And she left me here in the kitchen again.  Where does she go at night?  It better not be to see Mr. Shifty.  That movie was good though.  Madeline Kahn cracks me up.  That's what holiday weather should be like. And just what do they mean by "dog smell?"  What was that?! Woof!  I don't see anything.  Damn, it's cold.  Woof!  I don't trust that plant in the sun room.  Woof! Woof!  Woof!  It keeps looking at me funny.  Yes, I ate my poop, don't judge me!  Woof! I miss the cats.  There's a lot of cats in this neighbourhood, but I miss them when they're not around.  Why don't they just stay indoors and stop complaining about the cold though?  Stop looking at me, plant!  Woof!  My stomach feels a little funny.  Where are my moms?  Is it morning yet?  Oh, God, it's still watching me.  Don't make eye contact.  I'll go back to the kitchen and bark there.  Woof!  I can still see it.  Why won't it stop looking at me?  I feel all funny - dizzy and I can't breathe.  Oh, God, I'm dying!  Breathe.  I heard about these on television, they're just panic attacks.  Calm down.  Gah! I can't stand it!  Grr! Woof! Grrr!  There, I hope you're happy!  I won't feel guilty, you can't make me.  I warned you, plant.  It's not my fault you had to be eliminated.  Finally, I here him coming.  I need to get out of here.  I will poop for you, Mr. Shifty!

Day 9 - Great.  She's gone and the the door to the sun room is blocked.  I only have the kitchen.  Just as well, the plant body is still in there.  And why were they taking photos?  I don't trust those two.  What do I do until morning?  What's that noise?  I can't even look out the window now!  Woof!  I can't even walk in the park because it's so freakin' cold and all that white shit hurts my feet.  My ball doesn't even bounce when Mr. Shifty throws it.  He is good at throwing my ball, I'll give him that.  Woof!  Was that a noise?  Let me look out the window, I'll be good, I promise.  My stomach doesn't feel so good.  Aren't plants supposed to be good for you?  When are my moms coming back?  They poisoned them, didn't they?!  I'm sorry, I'm really sorry, I'll be good!  Oh, God, they're going to take me back to that lady that took away my balls!  Oh, no.  No!  I'll be good!  I'm dying!  I can't breathe again.  Gah!  Grr!  Grrr!

Day 10 - Well, last night didn't go so well.  How embarrassing, I chewed up a good bed over nothing.  My moms are never coming back, are they?  Why is it so cold?  I'm not going for a walk in these conditions.  Cats are hibernating for Christ's sake!  Why are you so interested in my bathroom habits?  Fine, I'll poop, just let me out for a moment, but I'm not going for no walk.  FML.

***

We didn't get to see the reunion when his owners arrived home, but we're sure he's a whole lot happier and more relaxed.

Cone of Assumption

Holly and I have been doing daily visits to one of her mother's cats because he managed to get a scratch on his face, so we (mostly Holly) are needed to keep it clean to avoid infection.  The irritation of the cut causes him to occasionally scratch at his face and, being a cat, leads to more scratches from his hind claws.

Being pet people, we try to be prepared - it's as if we are trying to earn our boy scout pet sitting badge - and have an Elizabethan collar at home, which we put on the foyer table in case we need to bring it to Holly's mom's.

With our bedroom dark and me trying to remain asleep, I heard Holly stir in bed next to me.  "Why would daddy do this to you?" I heard her say quietly.

I reluctantly opened my eyes to find, sitting on Holly, our older male cat with the collar on.  Biggie Boy has an odd attraction to plastic, never able to resist licking any such material in his vicinity and at some point in the night, must have found the collar on the foyer table and stuck his head into this plastic beast - something most animals avoid like a veterinarian with a thermometer - unable to extricate himself from our devious trap.

When I moved into the house two and a half years ago, Holly made it known that I took Biggie's spot on the bed and that I had no right to be angry with him for jumping onto my face at three in the morning because that space used to be for him.  Biggie's an older cat and, along with losing his hearing, may be losing some of his faculties.

At least that's what he wants us to believe.  Considering I got blamed for torturing him with the collar, I find it difficult to accept any explanation other than this was a brilliant, well-contrived plan to restore himself as the male head of the household.