Neighborhoods

While I was in Louisiana, my neighbor graciously watched after Abby, the Abbs, Abberella, whichever you prefer. This was the second time I asked him to do so, as I had been a temporary person for his dog, Rocket, a few times prior. When I returned last week, I knocked on the neighbor's door to tell him I was back, see how it went, and get my key. We talked for a bit about the trip and about how much fun it can be walking Abby and Rocket at the same time. The neighbor informed me that earlier the same day, Abby had made a new friend (not an uncommon occurrence, she is, after all, the friendliest, nicest, cutest, most lovable dog EVER). He told me all about the puppy and all about how the puppy and Abby played for a half hour while Rocket sat by and watched, trying his best to ignore the crazy girls. Then he told me how he told the puppy's person that she would be seeing a girl, me, walking Abby and Rocket the next week.

Uh, wha? He then handed me my key, and his key. I thought for a moment, and somewhere in my sleep-deprived brain I remembered that he had mentioned that he would be going out of town for a week once I got back. I took the keys and asked him to be sure to remind me the next day, otherwise I would surely forget.

He left last Friday and is set to return this evening. And it is time. You see, Rocket likes to mark the territory that Abby has peed on once Abby has done the peeing. This is all fine and good, except sometimes, Rocket likes to try and mark the territory WHILE ABBY IS STILL DOING THE PEEING. So not only do I need to try and control two dogs on two leashes with two sets of keys in my hand and two poop bags in tow, but I also have the task of very carefully making sure the Abbs is not urinated on by a dog that is taller and heavier than her. This, in addition to the challenge of holding (and controlling) the two leashes while picking up poop, is enough to drive a person crazy, especially at 6:30 in the morning. Oh, AND apparently my apartment is now Rocket's favorite place. When we come back up the stairs, he immediately stands at my door, rather than his own, and waits for me to open it. This is probably because he doesn't like to be left alone, as one may hear him howling at various times, day or night, when the neighbor is out of town. AND there has been more than one occasion when I hear some growling coming from Rocket when I attempt to take him to his own place of residence, and not mine. Therefore, it is time. No more being the person for two dogs.