Wednesday, July 23, 2008

Ferocious Puppy Attacks

This past week, I have the opportunity to puppy-sit for some friends. I convinced them to let me take care of their precious puppy for 6 days in lieu of locking him up in a kennel. I mean I have been practicing keeping things alive, like my plants, for years now. Why would a puppy be any different?

Anyway, the puppy Trot was so young that he had just started to venture outside the week immediately beforehand. Therefore, the whole doing his business outside was completely unknown. He supposedly knew how to use the pee-pads, but he actually hit the pad 1 in 3 times at bat (for pooping, not even close every time). Yeah, you get a little tired of constantly cleaning up puppy piss and poop on your hardwood floors, but the fucker is just so damn cute! Seriously, look at that face. Absolutely adorable!

He has a companion dog personality (with a touch of cat), so he always had to be within 2 feet of me. If I rounded the corner or was not within sight, he would start whimpering. I even had to crack the door open in the bathroom so he could poke his nose in to make sure I didn’t disappear. It was interesting having a shadow, I mean it was like “I’ve got to take out the trash, lets go”. At night, he would whimper so much when I put him in his crate (like for an hour straight), that I just decided to encourage a bad habit and let him sleep in my bed. For an 8-pound dog, he sure hogs the bed. He would nuzzle his snout into my leg, back, neck, butt and go to sleep. I would scoot over because I didn’t want to crush the little guy, and he would creep over and nuzzle again. By 4am, I would wake up to find that I had exactly 2 feet of the bed and the dog had conquered the rest. One night, I just took the covers he was sleeping on, and pulled them back to the other side of the bed to reset the positions.

Luckily, I live close to two dog parks and central park, so the little guy was treated to some good walks every day. Since he just started to brave the great outdoors, things like plants and other dogs were exciting and new to him. He played with blowing leaves for 10 minutes. Also, he didn’t know what to do with other dogs. He would approach them and try a sniff or two before looking at me to ask “this is what I do right, sniff…now what”. At the dog park, I tried to get him to burn all that puppy energy off by throwing his ball around, but his cat personal took over and he just liked to sit next to me on the bench. For a puppy, he sure wasn’t all that active really. He spent most of the time at the apartment either sitting on the couch watching me or sleeping.

People often have a dog/cat/animal as a test run to see how they would handle having a baby. Not me, I want a dog because a dog would rock. Plus, if how I treated the dog is any indication how I would treat a child, then social services would have me on speed dial. Let me see, I once belched loudly in front of the dog and scared it back to the other side of the room. I also purposely farted on it when he was trying to snuggle into my ass. That sent him into a wild fit of snorts and pawing at his nose. Oh and I had conversations with him while we watched TV that went like this “you see her, she is such a bitch, I don’t know why she is on TV anyway, I mean look at those boobs, their totally fake, and this guy…you can’t tell me he isn’t a total man-whore, no one can be that hairless”. You know, I actually would be proud if my 4 year old is the trouble-maker at school that teaches all the other kids words like “dildo, cum-dumpster, muppet faced whore”. Parents would call me to ask where little Suzie is learning that foul language, and I would reply “well, at home of course”.


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