I’ve been going up T&S’s mesa twice a day since last Wednesday to take care of their dogs and cats. The dogs spend the days kind of trapped in this very pleasant courtyard surrounded by the (breathtaking; I wish I could show you) house and don’t lack for anything but companionship. Bucky is always a little standoffish at first until he decides I’m okay; Taz, the smaller one, is a frantic lovesponge.
I climb the mesa, check on the cats, clean the litterbox, pick up dog shit, fill food and water bowls, check for signs of destructive entropy, and sometimes water plants. The last thing I always do before leaving the house, morning and evening, is give each of the dogs a large biscuit. They know to expect that. I guess they also know that’s the last thing to expect till next time.
He refused it entirely at first. In fact he was fine until I tried to hand it over, and then he got all morose and pouty. I sat down on the steps and nerfed his head for a while, which seemed to be what he wanted. They’re both used to hanging around with T all day; they’re with him in his truck wherever he goes, they come along on daily runs. But now it’s pushing a week and they’re just lonely.
I’m usually kind of wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am about doing this chore, frankly anxious to get home and be done with the “will the Jeep even get me home” ordeal twice a day. But I think at least once or twice this week I need to relax, sit down and play with some dogs.