We’re dog sitting for my mother-in-law while she’s in Florida. For 10 days. She goes a few times a year and in the past we’ve driven back and forth to her house to let her dog out, or alternated with a neighbor to save us a trip or two. She lives about 20 minutes away, though, so the back and forth three times a day is just too much and too inconvenient now that we have Owen.

There was something lost in translation this time, though, because we didn’t quite understand that we had agreed to dog sit for a week and a half…until we were. So we are.

Lucy is a lab and just over a year or so old. I think. She was rescued from a “kill shelter” down south and brought up here. She is sweet, but also nuts and skittish and while I completely understand that given her unknown background, and the fact that she’s basically a puppy and not at all like the giant breed we’re used to…she’s driving me crazy.

She knows “sit”, but barely. Other than that, she responds to no other commands. Owen has started mimicking me and now runs around yelling, “DOWNNNN, U-CEE!”, which I must say a hundred times. She’s house-trained, but pees whenever Michael comes in the house.

Kodiak…well, he’s being a really good sport. But Lucy is like the little annoying sister he never had, and probably never wanted. She climbs all over him and trips him up, and while he basically sits there and takes it…

“W T EFFFFF is this crap?”

…he has certainly lost his patience a time or two and knocked her around a little.

Owen alternates between thinking U-Cee is hilarious, and outright yelling AHHHHH in her face when she comes near him. I guess he’s used to our big lump of Newfie and doesn’t know what to make of the crazy either.

We’re got six days left with Lucy. It’s really too bad I can’t open a bottle of wine right now.

14-week belly says get out of the way, dog! You’re blocking the mac and cheese. (I can blame her for the dirty mirror too, right?)

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