A different kind of dog luvr

Let me preface this by saying I adore animals. Seriously.  I’ve grown up raising money to save the rainforest and volunteering at animal shelters and I rarely eat meat.  And animals love me.  Even the ones that hate everyone else.  My best friend has a yorkie who will not go near anyone outside of the immediate family, except me.  She runs away from everyone else, but when I come over she’s all over me.

This is my 10th night of dogsitting in the past two months.  And my disdain for this dog has reached an unimaginable point.  From the second I walk in the door, the dog is all over me, scratching, barking, and displaying his constant erections like a trophy.

The grossest part is that the dog shares dishes with the owner.  Seriously.  They eat off the same plates.  This is not endearing, it’s disgusting, and the reason why I had to bring my own set of silverware and plates to avoid cross-contamination.  The house is covered in pug paraphernalia and looks like the perfect setting for a horror movie.  God help me if I’m in my thirties and living like this.

I’m definitely not the most patient person, but I’ve never had this much trouble.  And you’re talking to the girl that used to help train abused dogs and commanded birthday parties of 30 screaming 5-year-old boys.  I have tried everything I know to calm this dog down and nothing helps.

This dog had better never run for president because he will be hit with a slew of sexual harassment charges.

*Update* I’ve taken him out 5 times since 4pm and walked him for about 20 minutes. And of course he decides to poop inside on the floor. AWESOME.


My life is a horror story

For my mom’s birthday in 2008, I threw her a pretty kick-ass surprise party (there was catch phrase, ice cream cake, and wine coolers) and spoiled her by buying her a STATE OF THE ART GPS.  This would eventually come back to haunt me.

Fast forward three years.  A girl innocently gets into her car (after having an awkward run in with Jewish online dating boy) and plugs in the old, trusty GPS.  Out of the goodness of her heart (and a need for extra cash), she has agreed to dog sit at her coworker’s condo tonight and then for a full week in October.  Two weeks ago, she had followed her coworker up a bunch of dark, windy roads from school to the condo.  She’s a little nervous about finding her way, but she has the GPS!  What could go wrong?

Let’s not fail to mention the amount of traffic on 46 in Hackettstown when she gets out of class at 6pm.  After waiting at a light for 17 minutes, she decides to try to find another way.

Reroute me, GPS!

And so it did.  The roads start out familiar, but things suddenly take a turn for the worse.  Petersburg Road took her through mountains and abandoned farm towns.  With no cell signal and a confused GPS, she became nervous, but decided to continue on the route.  Roads began to blur into each other, the sky began to darken.  And after a long day and little sleep, she wasn’t sure how much longer she could go.

After nearly 45 minutes getting more and more lost, she finally pulled over in frustration and found one bar of service on her dying phone.  She desperately dialed her closest living relative (MOMMY) and cried out for help.  But with no towns or homes in sight, neither of them could figure out where she was.

The sun had set and the gas tank was low.  Without many options, she continued on her perilous journey.  Frustration turned into hysteria turned into laughter turned into tears.  Each pothole threatened her tires as she sped through the dark wooded New Jersey abyss.

Finally, help appeared! A sign for 80 East only 18 miles away, which could take her all the way to her beloved Manhattan if she so desired!  She followed the long winding country road up through the mountains until she reached that highway of hope.

With some quick thinking and a reinstated sense of direction, she finally arrived at the entrance gate for the exclusive community.  After a few wrong turns, she had finally arrived at the place where she will most likely be murdered tonight.

This has turned into the ideal horror movie.  I am now sitting with every single light in this place on, waiting for someone to break-in and kill me.  Did I mention I have an overactive imagination?

Now excuse me while I hide in a blanket and listen to Radiohead.  Because if I am murdered, that is definitely the ideal soundtrack.