Welcome to a delayed update of our journey through my dog sitting week in the city. While the city part seems to be going well, the doggy part is remaining a challenge…
Early evening: As I enter the flat Peggy comes bounding towards me with glee to greet me for a hard day’s graft - I’m obviously lying. Instead she quietly acknowledges I’m there and then sets about her busy daily routine - quietly sitting in her bed, looking at me, looking away, looking at me, looking away etc etc.
With toilet time in mind I ponder how best to approach the early evening walk and decide on the following:
That was the plan…
This was the reality…
Stage 1 went well, I turned from glancing out of the kitchen window and jumped when I saw Pegs standing behind me scoffing her dinner, she was getting brave.
Stage 2 also fine, though she left me to sing the One Show titles on my own
Stage 3 is predictable by now, she sussed that I was attempting to take her out and she ran down the hallway and the jet stream wee returned.
Upon telling her that peeing on the floor is not ladylike, nor acceptable in my social circle, she ran to the other end of the hallway and made a steamy protest - yes 3 big poops.
At this point I’m feeling like a broken man, she’s worn me down and outsmarted me but I persevere and take her out for a walk anyway - I can’t let her think she can get away with no walkies.
Late evening: The bulk of the evening has passed, much of it spent cleaning carpet, washing/drying dog beds, airing the flat and trying to bond with Pegs.
It’s walkies time again and Pegs repeats the wee game again, lead goes on, fingers crossed for no Peggy poopy in the flat and off we go.
We made it as far as 4 yards from the front door before the poop came, luckily I had foreseen this may happen and changed my route to avoid the pavement. Instead she let rip in the allocated parking bay outside and I took out my trusty Sainsbury’s carrier bag. Picking up steamy dog mess with a carrier bag is a less than enjoyable experience.
Again, Peg needed to know that the walk wouldn’t end there so we ventured over to the green space, Peg pulling to get back into the flat. We spent the next 30 minutes having a lesson in dog walking etiquette. Each time she pulled, I would bring her back to heel. Occasionally I would simply stand still so that she would see that we were getting nowhere fast. My hand was turning red from the friction burn but I could see the light, she was pulling less, relaxing a little and staying at my side awaiting my cue that we could proceed.
We had a most pleasant walk back home (yes it’s only 100 yards but she probably feels like it’s a mile). The pulling subsided and we calmly meandered back, smile on my face, burns on my hand. Back to the flat, some much deserved praise for Peggy and much to my surprise she seems to have warmed to me. She follows me round the flat and appears to show an interest in what I’m up to. Could it be that she has a new found respect for me, has she seen that, strictly speaking, I’m supposed to be the one in charge?
For now, at least, I will take this small victory and fall into my slumber positive about day 3.
End of day 2 results: Peggy 4, Neil 1, Dry clean only cushion cover -1