Pet-Sit Panic
I once volunteered to babysit a dog; really, how hard could that be?
She looked at me with pitiful eyes, “Would you please watch my little puppy?”
“Sure”, I said, “I’d love to do it. Just bring him over tonight.”
“A little puppy”, is what she said, but that description didn’t fit him just right.
Only eight months old a puppy might be, that concept isn’t too hard,
But “little” isn’t an accurate word when describing a St. Bernard.
I didn’t slobber-proof myself or my things, didn’t know I had to do it,
My rain coat on and plastic coverings, was the only way I could get through it.
What he didn’t chew or eat right through he slobbered from bottom to top;
I chased him around with a leap and a bound; tracing every step with my new mop.
When she returned at the end of the week my apartment was quite the mess;
“Thank you so much, how can I repay you?” “Please, next time just loose my address!”
Copyright © Joe Flach | Year Posted 2010
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