Dog-sitting

I was afraid when I agreed to dog-sit, that I would fall in love with Haley and Harvey and have to have a dog for myself.

(“Don’t have too much fun and don’t fall in love with dogs,” was my aunt’s poignant text to me.)

Last night, around midnight, as I was sleeping in bed, I suddenly felt the force of a large shape leaping onto the foot of the bed.  I looked down beside the bed, and saw that Haley was still sleeping in the little space she had chosen between the bed and the wall.  So much for real dog beds.

“Harvey,” I said, “you have your own bed on the floor.”

I gave him a little prod with my foot.  He curled deeper into the covers.  Finally, after pointing out his bed to him, he jumped down.  A few minutes later, I felt the mattress moving again, as Harvey re-established himself at the foot of the bed.

“Harvey,” I said, “you really have to sleep in your own bed.” I sat up, and pointed to his bed, and coaxed and pleaded.  Nothing.

Then, I happened to glance out the second story window.  Under the lights of the neighbor’s houses, I could see the shine of rain on the pavement.

“Oh, it’s raining,” I said.  “You’re scared. Well, okay.” I lay back down, my feet much constricted by the shape at the end of the bed.

Finally, since Harvey began a full-force shivering, I put him in his house for the rest of the night as his owners had instructed me is sometimes the best to do during bad weather.

In the morning, he seemed no worse for the wear, and both of them bounded outside to begin their difficult day of sitting around doing nothing.

I wasn’t worse for the wear either, but I’m not picturing myself buying a dog tomorrow.

I’m just jealous.  Who wants to write or take care of patients all day when their are Harveys and Haleys sprawling on the carpet all day?  Occasionally, one of them will look up at me with an expression that clearly says, “You are truly the most boring human being I ever laid eyes on.  Are you really going to sit in front of that computer ALL day?”  Harvey rests his nose on his front paws, looks at me critically for a few minutes, then drifts off to sleep again.

Conclusion of dog-sitting weekend:  I don’t want a dog, I just want to be a dog!