Puppy sitting
Spent most of the week puppy sitting for some friends who wanted a mini-vacation in P-town. She’s a seven-year-old Jack Russell terrier who’s gone through a bit of a rough stretch lately. Still, we got on pretty well and only had two minor incidents. One floor wetting (not spotted for a while) and one chewed cloth. Not much of a deal, but what he chewed was Billy’s crate cover that has been there for years, so that made me a bit sad. But the cloth was threadbare and probably rotten, and should have been replaced years ago.
The other odd thing is that it’s the first time since Billy died that I’ve been out for dog walks, and, upon seeing people around the ‘hood, they’d always ask if I got a new dog and where Billy was. Then I’d have to explain it all. Over and over. That was difficult.
Unlike, Billy, she must like showers because I had to leave the curtain open so she could see me. Otherwise, she’d try to jump in. Weird. Billy did not like baths at all. I mean, he’d put up with them, but it was a battle of wills to get him into the tub.
But it was fun to have a dog in the house again, even if the two personalities were so, so different.
