All right, now that I’m a bonafide dog walker, I spend a lot of time amongst the little pischers ... apparently, completely unbeknownst to them. Seriously, Billy LOVES me when I get to his apt.. when we're walking down the street, or when I’m scratching his back. But when I get to that dog park, its like I’m the embarrassing mother yelling after him "Remember to wipe!" as he runs off with his friends.
His memory of my loyal and faithful friendship miraculously comes back when I run over to stop him from humping, or if I have treats. But other than that... I’m merely his hired help.
And its ok. I understand that Billy doesn’t always get the chance to romp and hump other dogs. I’m fine being the silent observer. Always watching in the background....Just trying to understand the mysteries of the canine world.
Not a day goes by when I don’t come across a dog-ism that I don’t quite understand. For example: there is this one hole, in the middle of the park, that the dogs take turns digging. When one dog is finished furiously scratching at the void of dirt, another runs in to take his place. Its like the dog park slut.. everyone has been all up in it. So what’s the deal? Is there something buried there? Is this a good form of exercise? not sure. Whatever it is, its extremely popular at the park. And I’m not.
And yet another mystery:
Fizzy, my French Bull dog client, has a drooling problem. Not the thin, liquid, dainty drool. No, I’m talking two strands of thick mucous forming on the corners of his mouth. Once the drool starts, it slowly accelerates into a long icicle- shaped mechanism that drags on the ground, picking up stray leaves and feathers. Its adorable. And the best part --there's no way to stop it. Its like those scary movies, where, if you try to kill something, it just mutates and multiples.
Yep.. same thing here. When I try to wipe it off, it just grows back, more powerful then ever before. Today, I wiped off a feather that had become attached to Fizzy's drool-tentacle. The next time I turned around, he was dragging a tennis shoe. Oh, and I got slimed in the process. But he doesn’t seem to mind! Not one bit. Even when he shakes the slime all over his face… He wears it as a badge of honor.
So, to those of you who thought the life of a dog walker is a glamorous one, full of manicured fingernails and fan mail. You’re completely mistaken. Yes, it’s a joy to behold - but a messy, sloppy, disgusting one... that Im extremely proud of.
4 comments:
it sounds like you are a pych major watching the dogs.
I would love to be a dog walker, around here they get paid bettter that child day care, but i don't like the 'thick drool'.
good luck
That is funny that you were a psych major.......now that could be a very good business. A Dog Psych, you could write a book.
thanks for your kind words.
Hi have you ever heard of Cesar Millan, his blog is
http://blogs5.nationalgeographic.com/channel/blog/dogwhisperer/
he has some great advise on dogs and i think he was on Oprah.
He know the psych of dogs and you could too. People would pay big money to have there dogs under control.
just a thought, my sister in law bought his book and it did wonders for there out of control puppy.
Thanks Nancy! Ill check it out!
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