Yes they were little…two Silky Terriers (siblings), one Shih Tzu and a
wider than usual terrier mix (similar to the double wide mobile homes I passed
en route to their home). Their house however, was in a gated community and I’m
guessing that they had two more than the HOA allowed, but again, they were
little. Belle, the cat, a grey Tabby,
was ornamental in that she didn’t relate to people very well and stayed in
their son’s room or on the covered hot tub if the weather permitting.
Our first meeting wasn’t. We were acquainted in that parent of middle
schooler on the other side of the counter from the secretary of that middle
school kind of way. I was the secretary.
So we weren’t strangers, exactly.
But being in the home environment of a casual acquaintance is completely
different. Personalities change when I
am the visitor in the situation.
I encourage misbehavior. Clients
don’t always consider it a good indication that I am a true professional. Let me explain. The animals have selective hearing when a new
person enters the home. The usual silent
conversations owners have with their pets and the hand signals reserved for
obedience are replaced by excited getting to know you sniffs and jumping on
furniture and running to get their toys.
Funny thing, I think, how inviting a new person into a home with family
pets causes disruption and embarrassment to the pet owner. It seems perfectly logical to me that the
dogs and cats, birds, etc. would want to get to know who I am. On those occasions where the pets outnumber
the people, the investigative process becomes comical. Just for your benefit, I’ll give you a
visual.
Three people, two very comfortable leather couches, assorted coffee tables
and four curious dogs together enjoying conversation. “Get off the couch”…”now
what were you saying”…”Honey, can you hold Louie”…”their food is located”…”Gizmo,
come here boy”…”bedtime is”…”Where is Lilly?”…”No, Casey is the fat one”…”their
leashes will be on the dryer”…”Louie, get off the couch”…”Lilly, where is that
dog?”…”No, Lilly is the larger terrier”…”Gizmo, get down”…Well, you get the
picture.
About an hour later, with notes in hand, I left smiling. This would be a fun job. Everyone was so energetic, a happy
family. I would be back within a week’s
time and get re-acquainted with my charges.
And Belle? She was the odd one,
pretty much lived outside except for bad weather, when I could let her in at
sunset.
First time through the garage door, I was greeted enthusiastically by all
four pups. Treats and additional notes
were scattered about the top of the kitchen island and I paused just long enough
to drop off the door opener, notes and my car keys and let them all
outside. The yard was interrupted by an
in ground pool with separate deck. Each dog had made a path around the pool to
a favorite spot along the fence. Two went left; one right and the fourth
shadowed my every move. Their routine
lasted about 5 minutes and they were all back, underfoot and waiting for the
next adventure.
We returned to the family room and couched it long enough to calm down and
let me watch a little television. Feeling confident,
I said good bye, gave each a treat, read the last of the instructions and
headed home. “Easy enough,” I mused behind the steering wheel. “No problem,”
I told myself.
And it wasn’t (a problem) until…
I decided to take them walking. Two
retractable leashes and two old fashioned cloth leashes lined up in increasing
size order on top of the dryer. Okay. Soon Louie, Lilly, Gizmo and Casey, from
little to big all leashed together and eager to go. I was tethered between the two pair, totally
in control. The garage door went up and
we maneuvered between the cars on the driveway and into the street. Thankfully mid -afternoon was a good time to
go. Kids and school busses were nowhere
in sight. Business people had not come home from work yet and no other dog
walkers on the horizon.
We headed up the street, trying to stay to the middle of the road so as
not to alarm those who watch the world from the front windows. We were at a comfortable pace and got two houses
down when the leashes began to entwine.
Not the two cloth, short leashes (attached to Casey and Gizmo), the
retractable ones (attached to the brother and sister pairing). I stopped, they
stopped, I detangled two only to entangle two and so it went as we paraded down
the street. My left foot was the brake
and my right the accelerator. The dogs continued on their walk until my
demeanor changed from slightly amused to aggravated to hysterical laughter
which prompted a halt to this absurd adventure.
And at that moment of clarity, I noticed a neighbor, who had come from his
gated back yard, standing between his home and the next watching us. His silence gave way to a hearty cackle,
which gave into a belly laugh making him double over to slap his knees.
I smiled and continued to free myself from my temporary predicament. He recovered long enough to ask me if my team
and I were practicing to enter the Florida Iditarod. I don’t remember my reply, doesn’t
matter. That neighbor was right on with
his observation. Why didn’t I think of
attaching them to a skateboard or something?
Well we continued the walk in our stop and go fashion and once home and
dogs safely inside, I gathered the ball of leashes and sat breathless pulling
one from the other for the remainder of the afternoon’s visit.
The next time we went in shifts and the neighbors did not come out to
watch the parade, but I’m sure they talked about it for quite a while…
|
|
No comments:
Post a Comment