My husband is a very generous man. Especially when it comes to opening our dog-friendly home to the occasional canine guest. I am more than happy to welcome the visting dog when the weather is warm and bowzer can enjoy the great outdoors and the luxury doggie condos that are connected to our garage. But, tonight, my spouse pushed my naturally good-natured hospitality to the edge.
My beloved agreed that we would take care of our German shorthaired pointer's daughter for a week. Fine, I said. It's going to be frigid so she'll be unable to stay in the outside dog kennel. Fine, I said. You're going to have to take her into the vet so she can get spayed while her owners are on vacation. What the -- fine, I said. She might be coming into season. Swell. And, oh yeah, I have to go away on business so you'll have to care for them. Yippee.
With that as backdrop, you can only imagine the greeting I received when I finally got home tonight after a two-hour commute in the snow. One husband chatting on the phone while our two male canines (a 3 year old and a pup) worked themselves into a frazzle competing for the attention of the female. Barking. Running. Chasing. Chewing, Licking. Humping. Peeing. And the constant ring-a-ding ding of the bell hanging on the back door to alert us if the dogs need to go out. I need to go out. Bark. I need to come. Ding. I need to go. Bark. I need to come in. You get the picture. This evening, I found it all to be extremely irritating. Maybe I'm just crabby. Nah - couldn't possibly be the case.
I am happy to host dogs for overnight stays. I just want to host on my terms. Too much to ask? I don't think so.
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