Meet Lexi & Guinness. The furry children of Jenn & Zach.
Day 1: Arrive ‘home’ and climb the stairs to let the dogs out of Jenn’s bathroom. Note: door must swing inward to open. It takes nearly 40 seconds for the dogs to stop leaping and jumping enough to back away so they can fit through the crack in the door. First one dog, then another. Pure chaos ensues. Jumping, leaping, yipping, jaws, teeth, tails, fur. Everything flying through the air. Chaos.
Overnight 1: Set up makeshift bed on couch. Guinness & I have a stand-off. He’s determined to sleep with me. Finally, worried that the dogs are lonely and missing their parents, I consent. Guinness jumps up first and wiggles up next to me. Lexi’s next, snuggled half on top of me and half on top of Guinny. All seems well until I fall asleep, momentarily, and awake with the familiar awful dream of falling down a black chasm. Only this time, it’s not just a dream. I land with a thud on the tiles. Enough that I insist the dogs relocate to their pillow across the room. Sleep is lovely until 4:30am. I wake up with the creepy feeling that someone is watching me. Eyes open. Creepy feeling confirmed. Furry black nose meets my nose as a warning of impending licking attack. Before I know what’s happening, I’m fully ambushed. Guinness is on the couch, one weighty foot on my belly. Lexi is on her hind legs, licking my face. I just wonder how long they were concocting this plan.
Evening 2: Lexi’s got gas. Sqeaky stink bombs. The dogs are convinced they’re each lap dogs. I’m currently stuck between the bums of two snoring dogs. And Lexi is still passing gas. bleah.
Morning 3: It seems the dogs enjoy waking me at 4:30am. Maybe they’re functioning under VA time, because they’re ready for their 6am breakfast. Being the cranky, non-morning person that I am, I roll over. Bad idea. They repeat ambush of yesterday.
Day 3: Guinness discovered a new trick on the couch. He’s wedged himself between the couch cushions and the couch.
Day 4: Apparently, the dogs have either given up on Jenn & Zach’s return or their actually now comfortable enough with me that they’ve suddenly stopped following me. Probably good because I seem to have been altering my gait so as to not clock Guinness on my back step. My walking must look wicked funky.
