About a month ago, a person who I vaguely know and only met once asked me to dogsit for her April 1st through 5th. She offered a place to live (in Boulder) and a generous daily wage. Because I love dogs and dearly miss my Lucky, I was more than willing to agree. The only thing I wasn't too excited about was having to pick up his poop. Blech.
Two weeks or so ago, she had me over to officially meet her chihuahua, Scooby. It took him a minute or so to warm up to Pasha and me, but it was no big deal. Before long, we had him running all over the apartment, chasing after his favorite toy. Michelle told me all of the ground rules and everything was settled. I may have even imagined him being sad that we left when we did.
So I wasn't expecting to have any problems when I let myself into Michelle's apartment yesterday afternoon.
I was wrong.
I entered the apartment to a very, very unhappy dog. He barked, snarled, barked, bared his teeth, barked, whined, barked, and barked. And barked more. I open the door to his kennel, and he would not come out. I was scheduled to have dinner with a friend in Longmont, so I really wanted to let him outside before I left, but whenever I even went into the bedroom, he would freak out.
I let him bark non-stop for almost two hours before I gave up, and decided to leave to go to supper, hoping that things would be better when I came back for the night. I mixed up his food and nervously put it into his kennel, but not without him snapping at me. He wouldn't let me put his water dish in it. And things weren't better when I got back.
When I returned, Scooby wouldn't even let me get near enough to open the kennel. Whenever I put my hand near the handle, he would nip at my finger! It was terrifying (although I tried not to show to him that I was scared). Oh, and he barked and barked and barked.
Now, I'm not one to call people when they are on vacation, but I was really worried for him. I could handle the barking; I can sleep through anything. What I would not be able to handle would be a dog peeing and pooping in his kennel for 5 days. So I called Michelle, who could hear him barking. We tried to put her on speakerphone, but he wouldn't listen. She had no solutions, and couldn't believe he was acting so strangely.
She called a friend, who brought her dog over, and tried to get him to behave. He came out of the kennel, but wouldn't let anyone near him. And definitely wouldn't let us put on his leash to let him outside. So we let him out without the leash, long enough to go to the bathroom, then brought him back in. And thus commenced the hours of barking again.
Michelle's friend left, and I was back in the apartment. Any quick moves would get Scooby barking and baring his teeth again. It was not fun. I began to ignore him completely. I made Michelle's bed, and in the process, he jumped on the bed and wouldn't let me continue on. He would just nip at me when I got near.
So I gave up on that, and decided to go to bed. As soon as I crawled into the bed in the guest bedroom, there he was, whining at me, and looking at me with these eyes that said, "But aren't you going to let me sleep with you?" So I grabbed the blanket off of the bed and went to the couch.
Just like that, we were best friends. He crawled on top of me and slept there for a large part of the night. Today, I left and came back, and it took him a good half hour to like me again, and I anticipate it will be that way every time I leave and come back, but at least now he'll let me feed him and take him outside.
This dog is crazy. But I like him.
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