Previously… (The Foster Chronicles: Bonita, Week 3)
Day 1
On our loop, I notice two loose dogs, a brown pit bull and a brown fluffy mutt, romping behind a house. I pick up the pace, hoping to get by before they notice, but the mutt sprints toward us. My three start agitating, and I know how this will go down. Redford will redirect on Violet; Violet will snap at him and then duck behind me, causing ‘Nita to pounce on the opportunity to play with her, which will make Violet put her stankface on. I’ll probably get bit and maybe break a few fingers in the knot of leashes.
Ain’t nobody got time for that, so I toss Redford’s leash.
He and the mutt wrestle. The mutt takes off, and Redford bolts after him. I keep walking and call Redford back, and at 20 paces—what do you know—he bounds up to me, I pick up his leash, and we all go on our merry way. I give myself a little pat on the back.
Back at the house, I put ‘Nita on an extra-long leash and try to get Redford to play with her. He does laps by himself, but he’s not really interacting with ‘Nita, so I let him on the deck with Violet. Then when my neighbor stops by, ‘Nita gets so excited, she jumps the gate onto the deck.
NOPE. NOT OK WITH ME.
Semi-panicked, I drag her back and toss her through the gate. She tries to jump twice more, and I have to push her back.
You know, other than fun and companionship and emotional intimacy and sex and sharing of household chores, an extra pair of hands for dog-wrangling is another reason I could really use a boyfriend.
Day 2
Whenever I sit down—at my computer, on the couch, in the easy chair—‘Nita gets all up in my lap.
After work, I sit down to pee. She jumps up. I move my legs. Her front feet fall off my knees onto the floor. And for a moment, we’re both wearing my underpants.
Day 3
My sister, nieces, and nephew are at the park near my house. We head over to say hi.
By the time we get home, I have rope burns on my hand from ‘Nita’s leash.
Day 4
Day 5
The loose brown pit I saw on Monday, the one playing with the gregarious mutt, is out again, but in a different spot. I tense, preparing myself for drama, but the pit keeps his distance.
When we get home, the little muppet-dog across the street is helping his person rake leaves.
While lying on the couch before I head out for the night, I have an epiphany of sorts.
Shiv posits that it’s like a Thundershirt for me. Hahahaha—exactly.
I manage, with no help from ‘Nita, to wrest myself out from underneath her and go see a play. Seriously, you know how some dogs, if you shift, will jump down or roll over or acknowledge with a raising of eyebrows at least that you’re attempting to move? Not ‘Nita. She’s like, “I’M ON YOU BEIN YOUR THUNDERSHIRT WHAT.”
Day 6
Surprise, we’re walking. A neighbor stops her car and asks if I know someone who’s missing a brown pit bull. I tell her no but that I saw him yesterday. She tells me she’s been feeding him. The closest he’s come to her is 20 feet. She doesn’t want to call Animal Control because he’s not agressive, but she can’t keep him because she runs an in-home day care. I look for him for the rest of the loop. Not saying I’d take him home or anything.
No, really, just looking.
Honest.
I don’t see him. Rats.
At home, I try something new. I keep ‘Nita on the leash, and we all go in the house together. She and Redford wag at each other. Violet is standoffish. Two minutes, and then I segregate everybody.
I just want another person around in case.
Day 7
After some pretty spectacular
I haul my exhausted, bleedy carcass to the gym, hit Geer Street Garden for brunch, and then—shocker—walk the dogs two-and-a-half miles. Again, no sign of the brown pit. :(
I plan to try ‘Nita and Redford together and see how it goes, but first I’m going to scoop poop. (SO MUCH POOP.) I put Violet inside, Redford on the deck, and ‘Nita in the yard with me. When I head to the trashcan, ‘Nita jumps the gate and is on the deck with Redford. I worry that they’ll be claustrophobic on the deck, so I scurry back and let the gate to the yard open and…
it goes swimmingly! Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!
I let them play for a minute or two and then call it a day. I’m going to take this real slow.
But yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!
i loved this post. and i love you. p.s. i would be happy to be that other person around to bask in the joy of dogs playing and/or help wrangle them if necessary . . .
Please yes. Be my other person.