For the past five days I’ve been dogsitting in Roscoe Village for Drake and Cortez. I watched them both one other time and they’re both really well behaved so it has been a fun time. Drake*, the pitbull/dalmation mix, looks a little more menacing than Cortez, but he’s the one who is a super huge baby. He’s constantly trying to kiss you and he’s always underfoot where ever you are in the house. Even as I was drying my hair upstairs he was laying on the bathmat by me. Cortez is a little more independent. He doesn’t follow you everywhere, he barks loud and runs around when he really wants something, he tests you to see if you know you’re in charge. Cortez is the one who goes crazy when someone comes to the house and who tries to sneak out the door when you’re leaving. He’s an instigator. Still, if you raise your voice and tell him “NO!” or “SIT!” he does it almost immediately. I’m the boss, bi-atch!**
Even though they’re both good boys, it doesn’t mean that my week with Drake & Cortez lacked drama. On the first night I arrived it was pouring rain and I didn’t feel like going outside, so I ordered delivery. When the driver came Cortez went crazy and was trying to get outside when I reached out for the food and gave the driver the money. So I shut the door behind me. Big mistake. The door automatically locked and I was stuck outside in the rain, without anything. Not even shoes. I did have my Costello’s sandwich, though! The driver was nice enough to give me a ride to Lori’s house and luckily she was home. She gave me dry socks and shoes and let me use her cell phone to try to call Chad’s sister who had a spare set of keys. It was still stressful because Chad’s sister was at work til 9pm and I was afraid I wouldn’t get through to her and the dogs would be stuck in the house til the morning when I could call the dog-walking service. Finally I got through and got back in. Whew. Crisis averted.
Until a couple mornings later. I’d gotten home late the night before, at about midnight. I made something to eat and let Drake and Cortez outside to do their business. I let them back in and we all went to bed. Drake loves to snuggle on the bed and he was sleeping with me all night. Cortez sleeps on his dog bed but in the morning he’d jumped up on the bed too. It was a big ol’ lovefest. Around 7:30, Drake rolled over and cuddled in even closer to me, if that’s possible. About a minute later I heard this weird noise. Like water. And then I realized what happened: While we were all having our group cuddle session, Drake peed the bed!*** All over everything. Then he got up and ran around the room and jumped in the dog bed. Dog piss. On me. All over everything! All I could think was to get him outside so I shoved him out the bedroom door, down the stairs, through the living room and kitchen to the backyard. He treked pee all the way.
There were plenty of other smaller dramas, like Cortez refusing to eat unless I stood there and ordered him to and both of them deciding to try to dig their way to China in the backyard and then running in the house, straight for the carpet and getting mud everywhere. Still, they’re dogs. It’s what they do. And you just have to deal. If these guys were jerk dogs who didn’t listen, it’d be one thing, but they’re both lovey dovies who mostly are really chilled out and just want to please you. And did I mention they’re some of the most well-trained dogs I’ve ever met? I love these guys. Even if they do pee on me.
* Drake is also a farter. Loud and smelly. Even as I sit here and type I can smell Drake’s farts wafting up into my face. I think I should have been adding Beano to his food! WHEW!
** Do people still say “bi-atch”? My friend Matt measures when trendy phrases have jumped the shark by listening to hear when Katie Couric says them on the Today Show. As soon as she said “dissed” he stopped saying it, for instance. For me, the day that my mom emailled to say that “shovelling the driveway was a bi-atch” was the day that I figured I better stop saying that! Sorry, mom!
*** Drake’s new nickname is R. Kelly.