This Christmas was an unusual one for my family. Since my father fell ill in October and had to have a quadruple bypass, our original holiday plans changed. This year, we opted to take Christmas to him where normally he would have traveled to Texas and spent Thanksgiving or Christmas here in Texas with my family.
Since I had the very impromptu trip to Florida in October which lasted thru mid-November to tend to my Dad, the thought of flying with all the dogs again during peak holiday season just wasn’t possible much less affordable. Plus, the last thing my Dad needed was Rollo, with all of his Norman Bates personalities, running amok in my Dad’s house, potentially ruining all chances of a joyous holiday by tearing from room to room, toppling down Christmas trees, and frightening all of my Dad’s over 55+ neighbors with his whopping 9 lbs of lean, mean, Cujo threatening snarls and barks. He is our demon spawn after all.
So, the task came of finding a reputable boarding facility or dog sitter. Three weeks before Christmas, there wasn’t a single vet’s office that had availability and the ones that did, only offered the Taj Mahal suites which ran about 150.00 a night. I’m sorry, as much as I love my dogs, if the room costs more than my honeymoon suite, it ain’t happenin. Plus, with Rollo and Mimi in such small quarters, I feared that his incessant attempts at “bonding” with her would ultimately result in his painful demise, so boarding them all together was definitely a no go.
I called a few of my Schipperke community friends, but no one was really able to help me as either they were out-of-town as well or ran into the same “No Vacancy” at all the potential boarding spots.
My neighbor Carrie suggested I use their pet sitter who had watched their three dogs while they were out-of-town for a few days. She was a “Nextdoor” app recommendation. I was basically out of options and time so I asked for her number and proceeded to call, expecting to hear the same “Sorry ma’am, I can put you on the waiting list”, which translates to “Dumb woman, who waits this long to book for pet sitting? I’m going to charge you 12X the normal rate”.
I heard a super country accented woman on the other line and pleaded my case; that this was a very important Christmas to me, and I needed to be with my Dad, was there any way she could come to the house and tend to the two dogs but keep Chewy at her house for six days. Mimi and Rollo would be fine by themselves, but my Chewbear, well he needed people. He needed to be loved and cherished and snuggled and have the red carpet under him at all times. Chewy is great with dogs and kids, totally house trained, and wouldn’t be of any bother, it would just ease my extreme anxiety if he were able to be watched 24/7. You would think that I would ask for Rollo to be supervised in such a manner, but I wouldn’t trust any non-Schipperke savvy persons, much less I didn’t want to rain hellfire and brimstone onto a unknowing victim. Especially one that I was paying to keep my babies alive.
We haggled on a price that worked for us and after sending a few of Chewy’s sweetest photos she agreed to keep him.
The night before we left, I agreed to drop him off at her house. She lived in an adjacent neighborhood, which was very nice and convenient, and upon arrival I could feel the pit of my stomach start to rumble. You would have thought it was “Dead Man Walking” the way I had Chewy in my arms, walking up to her front door.
The door opened and a brunette, skinny woman in her late 40’s opened the door. The smell of cigarette smoke and incense was overpowering but that wasn’t the first thing I noticed. The entire carpet in her house was ripped up, there were toys and randomness all over the floor, a small boy scampered into the kitchen only wearing his Batman undies, and a gnarly toothed bulldog sat in the corner somewhat sleeping but keeping one eye open to see what was going on at the front door.
“Oh, HELL NO, I am not leaving my dog here”, is what I thought, but knowing my flight left in 6 hours I really had no choice.
“Um, Chewy is kind of like a vacuum and if he sees something on the floor and it resembles anything like a piece of toilet paper or a chicken nugget it will be consumed”, I said.
“Don’t worry, I have my house child proofed since I have a toddler and a baby.”
Did she child proof her house according to the Kosovo Statutes of Parenting circa 1992? Good lord woman, even I can see this isn’t a place for kids much less dogs and did you get the memo about smoking? It officially went out when Burt Reynolds passed.
I then asked her about Captain Sparkles in the corner, since even though he didn’t look threatening, could probably make minced meat of my Chewy if he wanted.
“He’s just an old soul, he doesn’t do much but hang around. Don’t worry your dog will get all the love and attention he needs, I used to be a vet tech so if anything goes wrong, he has the best at his fingertips.
Used to be a vet tech. What happened? What does USED to mean? LORD, JESUS, MARY, AND JOSEPH TAKE ME AND NOT MY DOG I CAN’T DO THIS!
“Ok, but really watch him because he may look slow but he’s like a cheetah when he spots something he wants”, and I passed her his bag full of food and his leash.
Don’t look back, Heide don’t look back, you will turn to stone, just keep walking. If something happens this whole neighborhood will burn, but I know an angel will swoop down and save my Chew-Chew from harm, I assured myself and drove away, feeling worse than I did when I dropped my kids off for their first day of Kindergarten.
We have video camera inside of our house, so being able to watch and talk to the dogs was convenient. A few times I caught Rollo attempting to chew my antique carpet even though there were 3697 chews laying on the floor all around him.
“ROLLO, GET AWAY FROM MY CARPET!”
He jumped like a nimble cat, puffed in his normal manner, barked a few times and looked all over the house to find me. I called to him over and over, told him to be a good boy and found great joy in watching him freak out trying to find the source of the sound. Meanwhile, Mimi would lay on the couch, trimming her own nails and looking at him with the “you’re such an idiot” stare that she normally does.
The first few days were tough. I hadn’t been without at least one of my dogs in I can’t tell you how long, and I called and texted the sitter incessantly. I even recruited my next door neighbor to come to the house whenever she wanted with promises of whatever alcohol I had left in the house and unlimited Amazon Prime and Netflix movies.
On day four I received a text message from the sitter.
“Ugh, we have a problem, Chewy bit my three-year-old and 8-month-old and I’m going to have to keep him in a different part of the house now or take him back and drop him off at your house”.
What?? Chewy BIT someone?? OK Come on. Honestly. Chewy biting someone unprovoked would be like saying Betty White in a ninja outfit threatened to kick your ass. Chances are you would die by cherry pie consumption rather than physical blows. The only time Chewy has ever displayed aggression was of course when Rollo would do his poke, poke, poke, poke, the bear routine, trying to get Chewy to interact with him, but even then, it would be a quick lunge and a turn away swiftly. PLUS, who has their 8-month-old around a strange dog? WHO DOES THAT?
Vet tech, more like Vet WRECK, but I had to be nice since I really didn’t want Chewy to have to go home and endure Rollo harassment and loneliness from missing his people.
I apologized and explained he had never done that before, that I was shocked he would go after anyone (we all know those kids provoked my dog) and it was OK to keep him separated from everyone else. Perhaps this way he wouldn’t contract Yugoslavian lung cancer. Her reaction was one of passive aggressiveness because her answer was,
“Despite how owners treat me, I will always make sure the dogs are kept safe”.
She must not have liked the part where I stated her house smelled like shit and she needed to comb her child’s matted hair and for crimney sake put some clothes on that baby it’s December. No wait I just thought that. It was more along the lines of ,
“My kids have been around dogs their whole lives and I have always taught them boundaries when it comes to playing with them, and not once have they ever gotten bitten” I stated.
Potatoes SHLAMTOES.
On the evening before we were to fly home, I told her it was alright to take Chewy home and to leave the key under the mat when she left. The next text was awesome.
“Ugh, yeah I really don’t appreciate other people coming to the house while I am responsible for your dogs because they left the back door unlocked and if something were to happen it would be my fault.”
Left the door unlocked, what? My neighbor is a cop and she told me she locked the doors but might not have put the chain on since it was 2 am and she had just finished her shift. So it’s not like we were going to get burgled. Plus, with Rollo on the prowl anyone who even thought I stepping foot in the house would lose at least a big toe or an eardrum.
“So, if you need another sitter in the future, I will be happy to recommend so-and-so and have a Merry Christmas”.
She fired me? THIS CHICK FIRED ME as a client. BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! As if we would EVER use or recommend her services ever again. I do have to say, all three dogs were in perfect shape except Chewy had stress chewed a large portion of his leg hair off so now he looks like he has a chicken leg, but that will grow back. I did also manage to get the Marlboro smell out of his coat after a few shampoos.
I guess Love does really bite.