I Should Not Be Trusted To Care For Living Things

I feel about dogs the way I feel about children.  They're cute and it's fun to watch other people play with them but if you leave me alone with one I don't know what to do with myself.  

So when my friends asked me to take care of their dogs (and cats, who don't really count cause they're easy) while they were out of town this weekend I was apprehensive.  But I wasn't actually required to do anything other than check on them a few times a day to make sure they had food and water and let them out to do their business.  I figured I could handle that.

I rolled out of bed at noon on Saturday, threw some clothes on and headed over thinking it would take me 15 minutes tops.  Twenty if I decided to pet one or both of them for a minute.  Easy-peasy.

I showed up and read the note left for me with instructions for the care and feeding of said animals and it seemed simple enough.  Let one of the dogs out before the other because if I don't he'll pee while he's waiting.  Make sure the cat doesn't sneak out when you open the door.  No problem.

Except when she said 'let the dogs out' I took that literally.  And just... let them out.  And it wasn't until they had both bolted up the block that I noticed the tether on the porch that I was supposed to attach them to... which she had told me about the day before.

It's important to note at this point that it had just rained heavily and I was wearing flip-flops.  Which is really not the best shoe in which to be chasing down errant dogs even on dry grass.

After my initial panic subsided slightly, I stumbled after them up a hill and down an alley to where they were both having a fantastic time playing with another dog chained in a yard. 

...well, my friends' dogs were playing.  I think the chained up dog was pretty pissed off and resentful of their freedom.

At this point I had a slight glimmer of hope that I wouldn't have to call my friends and say "Hey, hope you're enjoying your trip.  By the way, your dogs are wandering aimlessly through the ghetto somewhere.  That's cool, right?."

I tried the pat-your-legs approach.  I tried calling them sweetly.  I tried being stern.  I tried sneaking up on them in the hopes of grabbing them.

I'm not sure how it happened, but I actually got my hands on the boy and latched on to his collar.  The girl just looked at us in what I can only assume was mockery and frolicked away.

I actually tried to drag boy dog after her for a few feet.  Which was completely ridiculous.  There was no way in hell I was going to catch her while holding on to this guy - even if he hadn't been alternating between passive resistance and brute force to get away from me.

I decided to try to get boy dog home and call for reinforcements.  Another friend agreed to come help me track down girl dog who had already scampered her way down the alley and across the street to the next block.

Now to say that half-dragging, half-carrying a heavy, uncooperative, wet and smelly animal through the rain-soaked ghetto is an unpleasant experience seems pretty obvious.  I would walk hunched over, holding onto his collar until my back and legs couldn't take it anymore and then heft him up and carry him until my arms couldn't take it.  

I can't image how pathetic a picture this must have been.  I was really hoping some crack-dealer would witness my struggle and offer assistance.  

Somehow I managed to make it back and had the presence of mind to grab a leash before heading out to wander around calling girl dog's name.  I headed the way I had seen her go and asked a very large man in a very dirty t-shirt if he had seen her.  He had not.

I walked in a large circle around the neighborhood asking other random strangers, who on most days I would avoid eye-contact with, if they had seen a tiny white dog prancing around.

By now water from the puddles I had walked through had soaked up to the knees of my pants.  It was suddenly bright and sunny and hot and my frustration and hatred of the creature was growing exponentially.

Then my helpful friend called to tell me she had found girl dog.  Right in front of my car.  In front of my friends' house.

Which pretty much figures.


** I would also like to add that the next day the adventurous cat made a run for it but I caught her right in the neighbors yard.  Because even when they're running away, cats are easier to deal with.

This picture came up when I searched 'dogs frolicking'
and I didn't think it was fair that I was the only one who had to see it.