House Guest

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Once upon a time a month ago, my husband told our neighbors that he "didn't think it would be a problem" for us to dogsit for them for a week. Why any of them thought that asking a high-strung, pregnant, mother of two with two dogs of her own to take on a third dog for an entire week would be a good idea, I really can't say. I agreed to it, but only because I felt like saying "no" would make me look like a big crankypants, which is, in fact, what I am lately.

Meet Eddie.

Eddie the Jack Russell Terrier came to live with us for a week starting Sunday.

It has not been a pleasant journey thus far.

Eddie himself is perfectly delightful. He possesses a charming personality, he likes to snuggle, and he can sit up on his haunches, which I find particularly amusing. With exception of the one time I caught him on the lazy susan on the kitchen table, he's been well behaved. No, my friends, Eddie is not the problem. Even Emma, our somewhat curmudgeonly old Pomeranian, finds him a pleasure to spend time with.

This is the problem:

Since Eddie set his front paws in our backyard, Ellie has been beside herself. She's been like the weird kid on the playground who doesn't know he's weird and is all up in everyone's face, incessantly shouting "play with me! play with me!" until everyone is just sick of him. 

Yeah, it took about five minutes of having all three dogs yipping and barking and carrying on a racket loud enough to wake the dead, or at least give me a splitting headache before I wanted to just drive away and leave them the house. 

It didn't get any better when the sun went down because Eddie insisted on sleeping in a bed. With humans. All night. He didn't make much noise, but he moved around under the covers like a weasel and raised my body temperature to boiling levels. I secretly hoped T would get fed up and go downstairs to sleep on the couch so I could have the bed to myself, but no such luck.

And today is just Day Three! I feel like a prisoner in Shawshank, scratching off marks on the wall with my fingernails to mark the days.

Needless to say, any hopes I had of getting anything done this week disappeared between school schedules, volunteering, dance lessons, and referring the three dog circus.

I should tell you that I am a big dog person. I love dogs. I've never not owned a dog in my life. Some of my earliest memories are of rolling around in the "way back" of our Volvo with an Irish Setter and two English Cocker Spaniels.

I think it's also safe to say that maybe, juuuuuust maaaybe my pregnancy hormones are different this time around. Is it because I'm having a boy? Is it because I already have two kids? Is it because I need a nap? Anyways, I feel like a lit firecracker this week...watch out, she's gonna blow!

Maybe dogsitting is just for the dogs?

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