Saturday afternoon I entered into the world of foster parenthood when I agreed to puppysit our friends’ Husky/Austrian Shepherd mix who I swear is half horse too. He’s a big boy and still has lots to grow being only about 6-7 months old. I’ve always wanted my own dog and now was the chance to get a taste of doggy mommyhood. I’ve dog sat and dog walked for my sister-in-law, but I’ve never spent several hours at a time taking care of a dog on my own and I thought I was up for the challenge. Here was my chance to show Eric that being a dog parent wasn’t half-bad and that maybe I could talk him into letting us have one in the family. I’m such an idiot. The day started off fine. I picked up the dog at our friends’ new apartment in Rome on my way home from work. I continually tried to make conversation so he wouldn’t be too nervous being the first time he’s been with me alone and in my car. It’s kind of difficult to strike up a conversation with dogs. You never really know if they know what you’re saying or if they’re even paying attention to begin with. That stupid human what the hell is she saying now? Well at least it wasn’t no no bad dog, which came later. I talked about how we were going to play in the yard and go for a walk around the block and meet all the other doggies in the neighborhood and that we were going to have FUN FUN FUN! He was a bit jittery at first, but as soon as I turned onto our street, he knew exactly where he was, being a frequent visitor to our house with his mom and dad. When we got to the house I acquainted him with the back yard so Aunt Nikki could go change into more doggie sitting appropriate clothing. Then Aunt Nikki was a little hungry it being lunch time and never eating breakfast on a work day. There were the leftovers from last night’s dinner in Barneveld — a small piece of beer-battered fish and a few clams. I place them on a plate and into the nuker and Bullet can’t help but raise his nose and try and get a good sniff of whatever is cooking. He had his food, which I encouraged him to eat. “Have something it’s lunch time,” I said, but he didn’t go for it. The beef and cheese treats I bought anticipating his visit were more interesting, but still not as much as that fish in the nuker. I took my plate out and sat down when the timer rang. Ooh I have fish and Bullet has doggie food, Yum....Yeah, still not havin’ it. So I started to feel guilty. It’s rude to be eating in front of somebody if they’re not eating so I said, “Let’s see if Bullet likes fish.” So I forked off a piece and placed it in his mouth. By all the licks of his lips, I’d say he thought that was pretty darn good. I commence to eat my lunch when I get the helpless gooey stare. More Please? I imagine him saying. Ok, but wait until Nikki has some too. So I give him another piece. Then there were the clams. I wasn’t sure dogs would like clams, but I figured hell, why not try and see? Oh yeah, lots of lip licks there. He’s a dog after my own heart. Then it was time for Nikki to get her exercise so I grabbed the leash and took Bullet for a walk. Wasn’t sure how that would go. He’s a pretty powerful dog for his age. Well, I think you’d agree if you saw us that it was more like Bullet took me for a walk. But he was a pretty good boy. He had to smell every dandelion in the neighborhood and when we passed our first fire hydrant I pleaded, “Please don’t be so stereotypical.” And he walked right past. Good dog! We peed on a tree instead. That’s okay. Then there was the encounter with the yellow lab and shiatsu. You see Bullet just wanted to go over and see what they were up to and just make friends. “Wazzup dog? YO!” He had a smile on his face the whole time he was tugging at his leash and Nikki was trying with all her might to keep him away from the fence. The lab almost jumped the fence and you would think somebody just stole 50 bucks worth of Milkbone from the Shiatsu. They ended up getting scolded and Bullet just resumed with his walk, totally oblivious of the mayhem he had caused. I could just imagine the Shiatsu and Lab’s argument: Mom, he made us do it! We made it back home, just one time around the block. Nikki didn’t dare bring him around the entire neighborhood. Besides I don’t know who was panting the loudest. I was thinking the whole time good thing I’ve been working out with weights lately. But my weights don’t usually tug and pull at me. We make it back to the yard and I get a text from the sister in law. She said she’s bringing my niece Aspen, a retriever puppy, up to visit with Bullet to give me a break and so they can play. Awesome, play date for the dog! Aspen will be a year old this week and she was about the same size as Bullet now. Bullet was just a tiny puppy the last time they met. And they looked so cute together until Bullet couldn’t keep his nose out of her crotch! I was talking to the neighbors behind us at the time and felt so embarrassed. “Isn’t it great to watch dogs play together? They’re so cute!” And I’m like, “Excuse me, can we be a gentleman over here? After all this is my little niece. My baby girl. My innocent lil’ puppy poo. Please keep your nose and paws to yourself and leave her alone?!” Luckily my niece got wind of his antics and was able to fend him off with pure feminine sophistication. She gets that from her aunt. She even managed to be queen of the pile at the end, after dumping Bullet’s water bowl over so many times he didn’t even want to drink anymore. Well that was fun and Bullet was a good boy. He played hard with Aspen but there was no real biting or yelping. Now I can just say from experience that it’s not exactly fun to be body slammed by an Austrian Shepherd mix and a Golden Retriever at the same time. Impressive is that I didn’t fall on my butt. Well Aspen had to go home and at least Eric was home from his golf outing. It was time to mow the lawn so we took turns doing that and watching the dog. Wow, we are total dog-sitting multi-taskers. I learned Eric’s mom was coming over with dinner, so I decided to go in the kitchen and whip up some dessert. Cupcakes would be fast and simple. So I bring Bullet in and he won’t leave my side. Not even for me to open the cupboard to get my mixing bowl. So get out my mixer and start cleaning the mixer thingys with my fingers after I’m done and take a lick. This is mean. I shouldn’t be doing this in front of the dog, it’s rude! So I decided to see if Bullet likes vanilla cupcakes and eureka, another grand slam! I text his parents and update them on Bullet’s adventure. Curt is not pleased that I’ve fed his dog junk and am spoiling him rotten. “He’ll never want to come home now,” he commanded. “And don’t forget I also gave him a woman to play with,” I quipped back. “Nikki’s house is Bullet’s paradise vacation spot!” Good thing I didn’t have Aspen in a bikini or he would’ve never let her go home! Anyway, it was time to bake the cupcakes and to instruct Bullet we should never, under any circumstances, put our heads inside the oven. They were done and cooled, so it was time to frost them. Naturally I let him lick the inside of the frosting container when he was done. Another major spoiling job by Nikki, but at least I didn’t have to wash it out. Pretty sweet! Eventually it was time for bed. Nikki went on the couch and started falling asleep to some kick boxing thingamagigy event on Fox. I grew up watching regular plain old “real” boxing with grandpa, so I usually don’t agree with legs and biting getting involved. Well at least it looked like this guy had half his ear bitten off. Anyway, I was quickly bored and passed out. I was awoken just before 2 in the morning to some rustling. Bullet was pretty uneasy for the majority of the night. He was in an unfamiliar house spending the night with unfamiliar people. I let him out, Nikki had to peepee as well and then I decided to go into bed because of my crotchety neck. Eric doesn’t like Bullet to be in the bedroom, so he barricaded the doorway with a card table. I said good night, be a good boy, everything will be OK, get some sleep and Nikki would wake up to let him out to peepee soon. Yes, I had this entire conversation with the dog. So Nikki was dead tired and passed out again only to wake up at 6:45 to some rustling around and her own sensation for the need to void the bladder. I sit up, look on the floor and there it is. How freakin weird is this? It freaks me out. There was a pile of garbage. A McDonald’s bag surrounded ever so neatly and tediously by some napkins and a hashbrown wrapper. I’m like we didn’t go to McDonald’s who the hell put that garbage there? Eric was like that was my garbage from breakfast before golf and I’m sure you can guess who put it there. I couldn’t believe it. How did he get into the barricaded room and how did I not hear him? And how could a dog be so neat yet so messy. He must have OCD, I assumed. So I proceeded out into the kitchen. C’mon Bullet lets peepee now! So I let the dog out. Now it’s my turn. I continue into the living room and find pieces of broken bark on the floor. I figure out that it’s a piece of potpourri I have sitting on a plate with Celtic candle chandelier. He only took one, didn’t knock down the glass. Didn’t break anything, so not so bad. Then I look down the hall toward the bathroom and there’s a book. No ripped pages. No tears. No bite marks. Just sitting there in the middle of the hall. The Idiot’s Guide to Getting Published. Now why would he choose that of all books? Not the most exciting read. I couldn’t help but think this dog must have a little Brian from Family Guy in him or his parents have let him watch the show too much. I look to my right and notice the door to my craft room open. That’s definitely a forbidden place for doggies, which is why I had the door closed. I had piles of colored wool just lying on the floor, waiting to be sculpted into an owl cake topper that someone paid me to do for their wedding. Luckily, but oddly, those weren’t touched. But I look. Bullet got into my yarn basket and decided to take a ball of crochet thread and spread it throughout the room like spray streamer that the kids in the neighborhood like to spray throughout the trees in the neighborhood on Halloween. He got into some of my yarn and took the wrapper off a brand new skein, but just left it lying on the floor. Then the most horrid and difficult of sites to take in. Bullet had tore a plastic Hannaford’s bag to shreds and got to my needle felted owls, my first creations of that medium and the little boogers that got me my first paid gig. Then I notice some blue felt here, some pink felt there. Long story short, Bullet bit off the wing, flowers and veil on my bride owl and had a little fun, but not as much, with my groom owl. I was devastated and TOTALLY PISSED! Of all the things he could’ve grabbed and I could have lived without and he mauls my owls! He couldn’t have picked up a crochet hook or pair of knitting needles and made a sweater in those four hours. Oh no! Instead of constructive we were destructive. And then I notice the surprise, peepee on the ball of crochet thread and some on the space rug. I’m ready to scream at this point. I’m over here cleaning at 6:50 on a Sunday morning when I should be sleeping for another 3 hours! My heart was broken. I was the one who spoiled Bullet rotten, gave him everything he wanted and more, and this is how he thanks me. Outside is where Bullet went and stayed for a while. I was waiting for the forbidden words from my husband. Told you so! Why do you agree to do these things? Luckily I didn’t hear them or maybe he was going outside too. After scolding him, “Bad boy! Look what you did!” I get an apologetic nose rub and he attempts to give me kissies on the face. Too little too late pal, like most men, you’ve got lots to learn when it comes to women! In the end I forgave Bullet even though I think he even got the hint that I wasn’t pleased with him. Finally it was time for Curt and Grace to come pick him up. I felt guilty I felt this way, but I was so RELIEVED. Please go home it’s time to go home! My husband laughs. “So what did you think of you’re adventure this weekend?,” he asks. I think that maybe I’m not quite ready for a dog, I don’t know. Or he better be much smaller and have much less energy. Then I can’t help think: Does this make me a bad doggy mommy? Would this make me a bad people mommy? I guess I shouldn’t venture there. Actually it made me realize, the adventure of parenthood, be it doggie or human, is quite the learning experience. We don’t come programmed to know everything and each canine and kid is different. But I’d like to think I’m a better and wiser person from my experience with Bullet. I couldn’t be really angry with him. He’s a puppy and not only does he not know any better, but he has to learn from his mistakes. Just like we do.
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