Dog sitting.

I dog sat this weekend.

That is, from 7:30 a.m. Friday morning, until 6:00 p.m. yesterday evening, baby sitting three great-stinkin'-GIANT-danes.

I arrived at the house shortly before 7:30 and watched helplessly as the owner of these dogs ran back and forth picking up last minute packing items and constantly informing me of how horrified she was that these "horses" kept jumping on me. I had actually received the worst of my wounds while their owner was still standing there.

As soon as she had left, the dogs died.

Not literally, but they did look quite like "zombies" walking around the house. Friday, the first day was long and boring. I fed the dogs, did some homework, looked around the house at all of the layers upon layers of dust... it was quite disgusting. I brought in all of my stuff from the car and closed it off in the bathroom so that the dogs could not drool all over it.

I luckily had time to escape to go get lunch and buy a can of lysol and bottle of disinfecting wipes. Though the dogs were not to be left alone for more than three hours, so when I got back I fed them again. and used at least half of the wipes on various surfaces around the living room that we would surly use over the weekend.

The rest of friday was mostly spent vacuming what I could, spraying the lysol, letting the dogs out, wiping the coffee table, throwing away six (now black) wipes used to wipe off the coffee table, letting the dogs back in, spraying more lysol, feeding the dogs, vacuming more....

And then, at last, my sister showed up! I would not go on this endeavor alone! We took several trips to the car. On the return of the last trip the door to the courtyard (Not nearly as cool as it sounds) wouldn't open, the door handle was broken, and my sister and I were locked outside of even the back yard.

I was brave, no one could dispute that. I walked around to the back, and scaled the fence that was at least SIX FEET TALL. I thoroughly impressed myself. I let my sister in and after that had a mostly boring and uneventful night.

The next day went about the same, we did school, sprayed lysol, wiped grime from the table again, only we made a trip home to eat dinner and shower. (We didn't really trust the showers at the house.)

Upon returning we found a despicable thing. The dogs, or at least one of them in particular, the youngest, had found a way into the bathroom where most of our belongings were hiding out. Luckily he didn't mess with too much, ripped up a roll of toilet paper... and then... I saw it.

My converse all-stars on the ground at my feet. Wet with dog slobber, a rip torn in the heel. Fixable.... but, no. You never mess with someone's converse. I was NOT happy with this dog and he knew it. for the next thirty minutes all it took was a stern look from me and a stomp of the foot and he would back away. . . . And then he forgot all about it and came and slobbered all over me again.

The next day went pretty much the same... A bit redundant. We did school, we sprayed more lysol. Wiped more dust and filth. We went home, had dinner took showers, only this time before we left we made sure that the dogs could not get into the bathroom. When we returned we were happy to see all of the pillows still on the couch. . . And then, a brown leather strap on the ground. Pretty much the only thing out of place. I knew exactly what it went to. My new fedora.

We went back into the bedroom and there it was, crumpled and wet on the floor. Then we looked at the bed, all of my blankets and pillows were thrown onto the floor. Yet my sister's, who had all of her stuff right next to mine, was untouched. This dog was specifically targeting my stuff!!! He knew I wasn't happy with him either, we put him outside for a while, and he knew I was mad at him.

The next day, the last day, went by rather uneventful. As soon as the lady returned home, we received our pay and got out of there as fast as we could. We told her that we would be willing to dogsit again if she needed us. But I can't say it's top on the list of things I'd do.

We were finally done. Away from that house. Away from the stench of dog. (Though not the stench left on ourselves from the venture) The first thing I sought out once I was home was a shower. To wash myself of that venture.

Hopefully I will be able to repair my shoes.

Remind me to NEVER EVER have an inside dog.