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dog-sitting…AKA why i’m a cat person

a co-worker who lives in my neighbourhood is on vacation, and i mistakenly thought i could be helpful and earn a bit of extra cash by dog-sitting. especially since, for the most part, i do love dogs. i have a dream someday of having a ridiculous corgi { or corgi/something mix } which i will name “ein”, which is nerd-tastic on 2 counts: 1. “ein” is the corgi in the anime cowboy bebop and 2. with my last name, said pup would be “ein stein”. love it.

anywho, i digress. these 2 doggies i’m watching are boxer terriers and have the cutest, slobbery-est faces ever. but BOY HOWDY are they pistols to care for. dogs, unlike cats, have to go outside to use the facilities. dogs, unlike cats, need crap tons of attention and *DEMAND* to be played with. dogs will wake you up in the middle of the night to go outside. dogs will bark at anything, real or imaginary, that strikes their fancy. but the worst is dogs are idiots that will eat anything they feel like in the yard, including things that are NOT good for them—grasses, weeds, bugs, their own/each other’s poop, etcc. which will, in turn, make them VIOLENTLY ILL where upon they will, for several days, puke, pee & shit pretty much anywhere they please. 

not cool dogs, not cool.