My husband and I use a dog sitting app when we go out of town. Now that it is summer, he and friends encouraged me to become a dog boarder;
“You really don’t have to do anything, and you make money,” they said.
So my misguided self did what I normally do: impulsively signed up for something before I thought it through.
We just moved into a new home, and I am very averse to pet hair; that’s why I have two non-shedding dogs. But, here I go.
My first dog boarding experience is an 18-day stay with a dog named Chance, an 11-year-old beagle mix. I am on day 5 today. He is actually my ideal dog: loving, aloof, and very lazy, with two caveats: he sheds, and he is obsessed with beds. Not his, mind you, ours. Plus the fact that he is a diva and his head must always be on a pillow.
Our dogs aren’t allowed on the bed. Chance does not get that concept. And, when I actually remember to close all the bedroom doors, he is on my couch or chairs, spreading the wealth. Chance also thinks that when you put him in a kennel, he is going to die, or at least that is what it sounds like. He has a regular, damn hissy fit.
What’s an old lady to do? I let him stay on our bed and I vacuum the bed, daily.
Yep. I took a Chance.
Only 13 days left.
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