The Dog Log…

It was worth a try, but time to regroup.  It turns out, an empty nester with a neurotic and dysfunctional highly affectionate dog cannot in good conscience abandon him to the kennel when business travel beckons…

It was working the first few times, dropping off my confused, but generally happy, pup at the kennel before roadtrips.  He’s a bit ADHD and confused, and it seemed i was retrieving him before he even noticed i was gone. 

Things didn’t go so well last time.  While i was drinking and whoring networking in California, Mr. Pickles was on a hunger strike at the kennel.  By the time i picked him up (after 4 days) he was a wreck – fur coming out in chunks, a hint of his ribcage peeking out at me… and he was barely able to bark, offering a raspy, pathetic and guilt-inducing substitute instead…

Evaluating options, i found the name of a highly recommended pet sitting service.  Having just completed the initial interview*, i think this is going to work out pretty well…  The price is right, the sitter will bring in the mail and newspaper, and the mutt doesn’t have to leave the couch.  She even offered to bring over a ‘doggie play buddy’ to keep him company!

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Now, if i could just stop referring to him as that “Little Brown Hole of Need”…

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* I spent almost an hour straightening my house before the interview, putting away dishes, cleaning dog bowls, digging suitable pet toys from under the sofa.  Seriously, why do i care?  Must i really prove my ‘dog mother worthiness’ to hired dog-sitters?

Neither man nor beast can escape…

…the long arms of The Park.

About 5 years ago, when DQ was still married to her first husband (before he went to prison), she asked if i wanted another dog.   DQs cousin had paid a ridiculous amount of money for a chocolate lab, only to learn that he would grow to 100 lbs – about 50 lbs above the livestock size limit for his current housing arrangement.

I stipulated a ‘try it before you buy it’ approach to assure compatibility with our smaller dog.  It was within the realm of the plausible that this beast was, in fact, a champion Pit Bull being disguised as a lab, and hidden from the mob…  Always be cautious in business dealings in The Park.

He had been named “Lando”. For Lando Calrissian of Star Wars.

Much to my amusement, the large brown dog had been named for the only ‘person of color’ these folks could think of…  clever bunch, they are…

Had they named him “Billy Dee”, we might have kept the name, but even in the car on the drive home, we agreed that the name didn’t work…

The two dogs got along well, and it was clear that the large brown dog was a sweet, subservient and very slobbery attention whore (hmmm… probably a good concept for an episode of Jerry Springer…).

The smaller dog went with my ex-husband when we separated – but the large brown dog stayed, assuring that my house never lacked noise, fur and dog slobber.  As a single, ’empty nester’, the large brown dog is still my canine life partner faithful companion, licking joyfully at his maleness as i write…

Somehow it’s fitting that Mr. Pickles and i are both refugees from The Park.