Currently viewing the tag: "dog sitting"
Quiz.
This dog is:
A. Cute
B. Tired
C. Broken
D. All of the above
If you answered D, congratulations! You are correct!
Let me explain. I agreed to dog sit this week for Honu while he and his boyfriend are in Kauai on vacation. They are really good friends and I love this dog, so it was a no-brainer. Plus, I rationalized, now I have an excuse to hang out at the lake three times a day and flirt with all the single dog owners who are clearly: 1) responsible, 2) nurturing, and 3) not homeless. Not only that, dogs are a perfect guy magnet. I was dizzy with the prospect of all the conversations I’d be having.
“Cute dog.”
“Isn’t she? I’m just dog-sitting. That’s just the kind of friend I am…”
“Looks like my Fido here may be in love. I should probably get your number.”
And then, we’d walk our dogs to the lake where he’d propose.
So needless to say, I was really excited for my first weekend with Wags. I wore an adorable sundress for our first walk. I made sure she wore her cutest collar (the green one, not the Pittsburgh Steelers one, lest potential suitors think I’m a lesbian). I even brought a book and a tennis ball, to extend our stay, and thus my chances of meeting someone.
But Wags, it seems, is broken. The only thing that happened was that one mother yanked her kid off the sidewalk to let us pass (dog racist) and after 20 minutes at the park, a 3-legged dog finally got the nerve to run up and sniff her butt. His owner was overweight and married, and a far cry from the golden retriever-owning hotties who wanted nothing to do with us.
After 30 minutes I took matters into my own hands. I threw Wags’ tennis ball past a group of guys playing soccer. Wags took off at full force, and I followed. When I got there she turned to me and dropped the ball.
“Good girl, Wagsy!” I said. The hot guys on the side-lines had seen her heroic catch and release, and were now craning their necks to check out her owner.
Then, in a move I’ve come to recognize only too well, Wags started sniffing the ground around a water bottle. Oh God no, please no. I locked eyes with cute guy on the side-line. He smiled. And just as I smiled back, Wags squatted and proceeded to take a giant crap.
I don’t care who you are, fetching dog shit is not hot. Even US Magazine knows it. Stars are “Just Like Us” at the grocery store, drinking coffee, and getting parking tickets, but I dare you to find a star who’s “Just Like Us” with a blue baggy on her hand. Never. It’s about as sexy as an upper lip wax.
I love Wags, and I want the best for her. And it’s for her intestinal health that I think she should go the rest of the week off-solids. We’ll just call it a cleanse.
