Stroodle and I had been housesitting for some friends recently. We had also been charged with the care of a German Shepard named Ilse.
This turned out to be a bit of a hardship on Stroodle for several reasons, not the least of which is that Stroodle open feeds. With other animals around, and in a strange home, open feeding wasn’t an option. Stroodle’s feeding schedule got thrown off, and subsequently so did his potty schedule. He hadn’t pottied in over 48 hours and I was beginning to get concerned.
As we went about our Saturday morning walk, Ilse included, I explained to Stroodle that our business relationship was based on an exchange of services. I give him food and shelter. In exchange, his job is to provide love, joy, and potty. It’s a verbal agreement, but one which has never been tested.
He just offered me a quizzical look…
I went on to suggest to him that his lack of potty in recent days was bordering on unprofessional. I noted how Ilse had been the consummate professional, despite that her schedule had also changed.
The quizzical stare continued…
I suggested a compromise, and that he work with me and at least try and sniff out a good spot to potty.
He turned and looked at a nearby bunny hopping through the heather…
Finally, I explained to Stroodle that I expect better from him. I used a stronger tone, a greater inflection, and threw in some extreme hand gestures in hopes he would get my point.
“I want potty and I want it now!” I exclaimed.
Quizzical look, this time with a tilted head…
That’s when the small man with the athletic frame, clad in skin tight running gear stood up from the bench where he had been stretching – unseen by me until that point.
“You have a nice dog” he said. “Maybe you should talk to his union rep…” He then began his jog.
And that, THAT is why I will someday be known as the crazy dog man of the Los Jilgueros Preserve.
We continued our walk with no further incident… Jhciacb
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