I think I’m over the dog thing. My parents are away this weekend, at a family reunion that I am boycotting, so I volunteered to dog-sit Alfred. I drove by my folks’ place in the late afternoon to pay the neurotic pup a visit and then take him to my apartment. I took him for a quick run around the backyard in order in order to expend some of his pent up energy from being cooped up in the house alone for the previous ten hours, and then for a nice long walk around the neighborhood in order to answer the call of nature.
Now, Alfred can be rather clever when it comes to sneaking food or prying open doors, but he can be a bit of a dummy when it comes to basic doggies duties. Still, it was a new one on me when I caught Alfie absent-mindedly peeing on his own front leg, and an even more disappointing surprise when I had to point out to him that he was missing his targeted tree by a good six inches.
I took the opportunity to hose him off in my folks’ backyard before we finally drove to Kew Gardens. Back at my place, Alfie took awhile to get comfortable in less familiar surroundings, but amused himself by barking and whimpering at the neighborhood dogs out my second floor window.
During dinner (mine), the excitement became too much for him and he started throwing up in the corner of my living room – on my stereo speaker! I needn’t have worried too much about that particular part of my home entertainment system as Alfred, always busy, set about a brief tour of my living room, pausing occasionally to spew a little more.
Both of our meals now dispensed with, and Alfred sitting contentedly with that same look on his face that we all get after a violent protein spill, I’m taking the opportunity to jot down this note to myself: Do not get a dog while you still live in an apartment.
Alfred is now nudging my arm. He wants a walk. Don’t forget to spay or neuter your pets, folks, and if you have a backyard, please consider adopting one of the adorable mongrels at the North Shore Animal League.
