Another Dog-Sitting Adventure

John was in his mid-eighties and spending a lot of time alone while Ginny was overseeing house repairs, yard-work, and finances. John's children from his first marriage worried their dad was spending too much time on the La-Z-Boy and suggested John and Ginny get a dog.

"Why don't you do a test run with our Oliver?" neighbor Barbara suggested. "We're going away and he would certainly enjoy having company. You've met him at our house, but I'll be happy to bring him over so you can reacquaint yourselves. He's already housebroken."

Barbara's dog was a four-month-old male Airedale Terrier with floppy ears, sad eyes, and insatiable curiosity. Ginny's recollection of Oliver when she'd stopped at their house was a demolition derby masquerading as a brown and black irresistible smarty-pants. Barbara brought him on a leash to Ginny's back yard to say "Hello."

"If you decide to dog-sit for us, you should keep him on the leash," Barbara advised. "Airedales were bred to hunt, so he'll take off after squirrels or birds or anything that moves." While Barbara was explaining this, Oliver had dug a hole in Barbara's impatiens about six inches deep. "And they love to dig...forgot to mention that. No, Oliver!" she said, yanking the dog's leash away from the flower bed  and onto the grass. "Sorry for the hole. Just keep him on the street when you walk. We should only be gone four days."

Ginny bent down to pet Oliver, who jumped up to meet her, covering the shoulders of her tee with dirt.  Barbara got him into a sitting position by tightening the collar and commanding, "Sit, Oliver!" Ginny shook the muddy paw, and was rewarded by a licking tongue on her face.

"He's got a nice personality, doesn't he? OK. Let me know what time you're leaving Sunday. I'm going inside to wash up. Please bring everything he'll need. Bye, Oliver!" Ginny detoured to the garage for a shovel to fill in the hole. "Those kids of John's better keep their mouths shut after this. I just hope it works out," Ginny said to herself.

On Sunday Barbara arrived with stuffed toys, a comfortable bed, a leash, and Oliver's menu, which consisted of designer dog food mixed with warm chicken broth for dinner (Barbara provided both). The breakfast menu was a special order: shredded chicken breast and cubed sweet potato (provided by Ginny, after John hit the supermarket).

Barbara also  provided a "reminder" list for Ginny:

     - Oliver sleeps in our bed at night.
     - You will need to remove any medications from end tables and night stands.
       Oliver is tall when he stands, and very curious.
     - Oliver is house-broken but will need a walk twice a day and before bed.

The first night Oliver had the run of the house, sleeping on the sofa and sharpening his little claws on the soft leather. That led Ginny to write her own "reminder" list for Barbara, when Barbara appeared to pick Oliver up AT 10 P.M. ON THE SEVENTH day:

     - Oliver did not sleep in our bed.
     - Oliver did not ingest John's meds, which stayed on his nightstand
       with our bedroom door closed.
     - Housebroken?? Not!! Even with walks (?) four times/day,
       he peed on the Oriental carpet in the living room.
     - John didn't have the strength to walk Oliver, so I tried,
       but on the leash Oliver refused to go in the direction I wanted.
       I ended up carrying him in and out of the house to the weed                   
       patch to do his "duty" with leash attached to my waist.
       My back will never be the same.
     - Interior doors will have to be refinished.
     - We will have to replace John's hearing aids,
       since Oliver mistook them for his bites of chicken!

Ginny and John did not get a dog and have not spoken to Barbara and her husband in two years.