House-sitting Escapades

We interrupt this series on Presuppositional Patterns to bring you a brief glimpse into my memorable week of house-sitting...

Did I ever mention that I’m opposed to the idea of indoor pets? Nevertheless, being the kind, servant-hearted person that I am, I agreed to house-sit this week for a family that has an indoor pet. A dog, to be exact. A 7-month old, large puppy dog. Let’s just say that my opposition to indoor pets has increased exponentially. In fact, I don’t really like dogs at all anymore.

We got off to a great start the moment I arrived. Apparently he hadn’t been thoroughly filled in on what was taking place this week and was under the impression that I had kidnapped his family and taken over the house. The canine detective immediately set out on his first mission to apprehend this criminal – collect as many fingerprints as possible. He ingeniously devised a foolproof method to accomplish this task. After chewing open the barrel of a black ink pen, he proceeded to empty the ink and spread it around with his paws all across the kitchen and entryway floor. The competition was fierce, though, and I combated his devious tactics with a mop and bucket of soapy water and a lot of elbow grease. An hour later, there was not a fingerprint to be found and the kitchen floor was spotless. Ha! I was determined not to let this dog get the better of me!

By the time I finished rinsing the mop and replacing the bucket, the dog had moved on to the next phase of his defense plan. He must have assumed my plan of attack was hidden within the pages of my journal and was in the process of shredding it to pieces when I returned. I immediately issued the battle cry and charged! Aware of his inferiority at the moment, he quickly (and wisely) retreated. On this pleasant note, we called it a day and retired to our quarters for the night.

We decided to exhibit our growing attachment to the neighborhood as we set out the next morning, he on foot and I on rollerblades. His first stunt was a good one, until he realized that tying me around the mailbox might not be in his best interest, since he was still attached to the other end of the leash I had gripped firmly in hand. Undeterred in his mission, as we approached the house, he took off at a dead run in the opposite direction and ran me right into the curb. I’m sure I looked like a gymnast as I flipped through the air. With utmost grace and refinement, I stuck the landing, turned, smiled and waved at all the neighbors, who I’m sure were watching in awe through their curtained windows. Having enjoyed our pleasant excursion so much, we stumbled back to the house to spend more quality time together.

Determined not to relinquish command of his post to me, the dog continued to ignore every directive I issued. Eventually it came to a head as we battled a fierce tug-of-war, he for the right to shred the pillows and blankets and me with a desire to keep them intact for the return of the home owners. After repeated wins on my part, we finally made a truce and I offered to provide some lovely music on the piano in the adjacent room. Note to self: don’t ever enter a truce with a dog. With my spirit calmed from a time of refreshing playing, I reentered the living room and thought December had arrived, accompanied by an unexpected snow storm. The carpet was barely visible beneath the layer of white fluff covering the floor. And off to the side lay the deflated victim – a formerly fluffy decorative pillow. The dog gazed up at me gleefully, no doubt congratulating himself for accomplishing such an amazing feat in such a short amount of time.

Ever the calm, cool, collected one, I embarked on a search for the vacuum cleaner and, having located it, transported it back to the living room for some heavy-duty work. Unfortunately, it seems the vacuum cleaner was in cohorts with the dog and, after a deceptive choking sound, went on strike, leaving me amidst a room-full of fluff and a dog intent on spreading said fluff throughout the house. While I continued in my efforts, the dog apparently thought the solid white a little bland for his liking and proceeded to chew up a few pages of the newspaper and distribute it amongst the fluff covering the floor. What a nice touch.

Though it pained me immensely, I was forced to part company with the dog for several hours while I attended a wedding rehearsal. You can be sure I rushed back at the first moment possible, eager to spend as much time as possible with my new-found friend. He must have felt the same way in my absence, and, in his desperation to find me, managed to pry loose one of the boards from the backyard fence and make his way into the neighbor’s yard. As I pulled into the driveway, I was greeted by the neighbor couple and a wide-eyed dog, secured to the leash in their hands. They assured me this had never happened before. Great. That’s just what I was hoping to hear. As you can imagine, we were overjoyed to be reunited under such…unexpected circumstances.

During my phone conversation with the owners that night, I assured them we were both having the best of times and things couldn’t be going any better. The owner suggested a night of celebration – just the two of us, relaxing on the couch and watching a movie. Great idea. Exactly how I would have chosen to spend the evening too. We were perusing the DVDs for something that appealed to both of us. The dog picked his favorite, but I wasn’t convinced. I continued to read the story synopses for something that looked good. The dog became rather impatient and threatened to take matters into his own hands paws if I didn’t hurry up and make a decision. I guess I should have taken him seriously. I turned around to present my selection and discovered that he had given up and eaten the DVD. Now there’s a smart dog for you…guess whose DVD we got to watch then? Mine. And I added the remains of his to the growing stash of evidence to present to the owners when they returned to the place they used to call home.

In light of the fabulous time the dog and I had together all week, I graciously told the owners that they didn’t even need to pay me the amount we originally agreed upon. I figure what I made on the sale of the dog will cover it.