Seen on a Random bumper sticker in town earlier this week:
“Lord, let me be the kind of person my dog thinks I am.”
I’m pretty sure there was a time at some point in the past when if you told me that I’d not only spend ten days dogsitting, but that I’d be blogging the wole entire thing, I’d probably think you were crazy. Of course, there was also a time when I thought that my parents would never have a dog, but that one went out the window years ago. To briefly summarize the whole thing, here are a few statistics I probably made up out of thin air for the whole thing:
- Days Spent with the dogs: 10
- Trips to the Dog Park: 18 (give or take one or two)
- Average Hours of Sleep per Night: About 6
- Accidents in the house: 4
- Uncontrolled Barking Fits: 3
- Bad Habits Picked Up: 3 (I think the dogs might have picked up a couple of those too…)
- Dog Treats Consumed: Don’t ask. And no, I’m not THAT crazy….
I do have to admit that the whole thing turned out not to be quite the ordeal I was expecting it to be though. The dogs seemed to quickly accept me as their packleader (of course, it’s not like I was exactly a stranger to them going into this) and for the most part managed to remain pretty well behaved during this time. I think that the frequent trips to the dog park really helped out here. To be honest, I think the dogs might be just a little bit spoiled by being able to go over there all the time like they do, but given how difficult it is to get them from the front door of the house to the car without them getting distracted by one thing or another, I suspect it;’s a lot easier to get them their exercise this way than it would be to take them out on a walk through the neighborhood. Besides, the place is practically in our backyard anyway, so why not?
I do have to say that my own expectations about this experience turned out to be far different from what actually happened. I expected to be ready to swear off getting a dog of my own forever about three days into the whole thing, but oddly enough, that never happened. In fact, it seems odd to me, but for some reason I find myself wondering if getting a dog of my own might not be such a bad thing after all. Sure, it’s a whole lot of responsibility, and if I ever give serious consideration to the topic I’ll probably manage to come up with about three hundred different ways to talk myself out of it, but I start to get the idea that I could at least manage to take proper care of one ifr I did. One of the things that I have realized over the past ten days being with Imola and Minardi is that I haven’t really experienced a situation in which I was responsible for taking care of anyone but myself for quite a long time (and to be honest, there are times when I’m not sure I’m doing such a great job of even that meager responsibility.) At some point down the road, I’m going to find myself being responsible for things that are a lot more important than a couple of rambunctious Beagles (no offense to Imola and Minardi), so it might not be a bad idea to get some practice while I still have the chance.
In the meantime, it’ll be nice to get back to having an alarm clock that I can have wake me up whenever I feel like it (although I do have to admit, these two sure are effective at getting you to wake up,) and to be able to sleep in my own bed again. For some reason, my bed always seems to be the first thing I end up missing whenever I travel, and the first thing I look forward to getting back to whenever I return home. Of course, I’ve only been about a mile from my apartment this whole time (and have made daily stops over there to check in on things and collect the mail) but since I don’t have the pet deposit paid on my apartment I don’t feel comfortable bringing the dogs over there with me, so I’ve just slept over here the whole time. On the whole, this place is a lot bigger and a lot nicer than my apartment, but it’s still nice to get back to my own place, cluttered though it may be, when everything is said and done. On one hand, I look forward to finally being done with this, but I also enjoyed the chance to break out of my usual routine for a few days and get a chance to spend some time with the dogs. But next time my parents go on a cruise, I shall gladly offer the opportunity to assume responsibility for the dogs to someone else and join them in whatever sunny tropical destination they might venture off to. They don’t make you carry poop in a bag down in the Caribbean, do they?