Dog Eat Dog

I recently became a mom. Well, not a real mom or even a step mom…I became a temporary dog mom. That’s right, I dog sat for four days and I learned a thing or two in the process.

Lola, the medium sized, brown haired mutt whom I was trusted to care for, is a dream. She does nothing. She sleeps all the time. She eats twice a day. She only barks at cats and squirrels. Apart from some mildly annoying following of me around, she was a breeze to care for (although I did arrive home after a great date to find that she’s piddled on her bed, but that was quickly forgiven due to my happy post-date mood).

During my short stint as a dog mom I discovered that there is an underground (or maybe just invisible to non dog owners) club, to which all dog-owning humans are entered into upon purchase/adoption/rescue of their pooch. I got a glimpse into the club by walking the walk (aka strutting around, leash in hand, occasionally giving stern tugs to assert my authority) and doing it in front of the world (aka, my neighborhood park and the streets of downtown).

Neighbors whom I’d never met made introductions, dog walkers gave me an affectionate nod and sometimes a wave, total strangers would ask questions for which I would make up answers. It was like the world gave me a hug and all because I had a canine in my midst.

On Sunday, Lola was returned to her real owner, thus revoking my membership into the underground dog club. To be honest, it was sort of a relief. I’m not sure if you know this, but dogs have to pee quite often and when they go “#2” you have to pick it up and throw it into a trash can with about 10 gallons of it’s counterparts. They also stare at you while you sleep, which is something that I don’t like unless it’s in an adoring fashion and coming from a being with a opposeable thumb. And even then, it can be unsettling.

Nonetheless, it was a good experience and I left it knowing that when it comes to being a mom, I’ll be a much better human mom than dog mom any day of the week. Informing my neighbors that Lola isn’t actually my dog was tough though. It was a harsh reality for one gentleman in particular. I’d never spoke or even seen him before taking Lola for a walk last week. He made small talk then and when I saw him out the other day while taking a solo walk (you know, because I don’t have a dog) he asked where my dog was. I told him that I was dog sitting before and she wasn’t mine. The conversation ended somewhat abruptly and I have a sneaking suspicion that I’ll never see him again.

I was sad for a minute, but when I reached in my pocket and didn’t pull out a plastic bag that was meant to carry around doodie, I smiled again and picked up the pace.

*Edited by Bridget Westhoff