My Dog-Sitting Story

Hi Jane, Hi Steve,

I hope you had a lovely time in Ibiza.

You’ll be pleased to see the house is intact and both dogs are still alive.

For your information, and perhaps entertainment, here’s a day-by-day account of the past week…

Wednesday - Day 1)

All fine, no drama, only I discovered Bentley’s bed jumping at 3am.

Thursday - Day 2)

The worst day of my life; the day I wish never woke up.

6 AM, I let the dogs out, and Otis disappears. I ran down the lane in the pouring rain, in my pyjamas, panicked, to then find him in the kitchen, smug.

I pour myself a tea, and sweeteners get stuck in the pot. Shook it gently, and said 200 sweeteners ended up all over the floor and worktop. Got the Dyson to clean them up, which instead crushed all of them beneath its footing. The kitchen resembled a cocaine factory.

I went to clean teeth in the upstairs bathroom and clean out the shampoo residue in the bath from the previous night. The cold tap decides to completely disengage and water began to pour out at full speed. Panicked, again. Rang dad at 7:15 AM. He’s on his way. Had a word with myself, got my wrench hands out and fixed it (you may want to check this though…).

Went to work. On the way home found out I got a driving fine. Walked through the front door, straight to the wine fridge. Drank a bottle of Prosecco to myself. The pain was numbed.

Friday – Day 3)

Otis cried at the bottom of the stairs—I think missing Steve. Slightly tired from that and Bentley’s snoring throughout the night. Finished work early, to find Kev and his wife mopping all of downstairs. Otis had several runny accidents. It was like walking into a slurry pit. I think Otis may be half Labrador, half pig. Also think it was some dirty protest. He ruined a bath mat with his stools so I bought a replacement (albeit the wrong shade of pink).

Got myself a Chinese and an early night…

Saturday – Day 4)

Chilled day. Kev walked the dogs. Ate a whole bag of popcorn catching up on Love Island. Had Bentley running around the bedroom and putting his "lipstick" on my head at 2 AM, so had to lock him out the room. Not sure if the scratch marks on the door can be covered? I became so desperate to sleep I made a barricade at the top of the stairs using the washing basket. Fell back to sleep, until 6 AM when I could hear Bentley’s scratches again. He’s a trained ninja.

Sunday – Day 5)

Myself, including the dogs, just chilled. No dramas that I can remember. Perfect for the day of The Sabbath.

Monday – Day 6)

Started off fine, until Mr. Squeaky decided to pull a melodrama and cry over his back legs. Double-panicked and called the vet at 11:30 PM until Otis decided his legs work again once he heard a crisp packet opening. Put the phone down on the vet and managed to get an [almost] full night sleep.

Tuesday – Day 7)

After the fiasco of the shower not working, today it did. The Gods are shining down on me once again. And also Otis, who happily took a shit down the lane and plodded back with both legs intact. Bentley followed suit. By the way, Bentley resembles Danny DeVito, I have decided. Both slept fine, including myself.

Wednesday – Day 8)

The day you are home!

I hope you get all the slobbers and kisses from your fur children. I would liken this experience to having hairy newborns. It wasn’t an easy ride, but now I feel the Stockholm Syndrome kicking in, and I will miss them dearly!

Hopefully see you soon.

I am off to sleep for the rest of the week.

Yours,

Noosh