It’s no secret that we would love to have a pet with fur. And no secret that we, sadly, can’t; at least not of the dog or cat variety (and the other choices aren’t palatable or preferred). So we dog- and cat-sit whenever we have a chance, with the caveat that it can’t be for more than week, which is approximately how long it takes for Anders to break out the inhaler or my eyes to start itching like crazy.
I’m a confirmed cat-person and my willingness to dog-sit is mostly done for the sake of my children, even though I usually really enjoy the dog’s company, too, for the limited time we have one around. But I confess that the getting up early part, and the going out in the rain and snow and cold with a dog is not really my idea of a good time. Even if it would be nice to have a full-time dog so that I had NO CHOICE but to go walking more often, it’s not a choice I would make if it was just my own preferences in question. Since we have no choice, however, we make the most of the pet-sitting opportunities that come our way, and the electric smile on the face of my daughter as she’s tug-of-warring with a temporary dog or Martin’s desire to move his bed from the loft to the floor so that the pet-in-residence can more easily reach him for prime cuddling time is well worth any inconvenience to my sleep-in habit.
We’ve had our friend Angie’s dog, Chelsea, since Thursday night, and it’s been great. Both the kids have been in dog heaven, uncomplainingly getting up before dawn when Chelsea comes wagging in with a thwacking tail and a full bladder. Angie’s coming tomorrow night to pick Chelsea up, though, and I can’t say I’ll be sorry, exactly, even though she’s a GREAT dog, make no mistake. 5 days of dog-ownership, once every so often, is just about right for me, even if the younger contingent in the household disagrees.
