Scary beasts afoot… or… Basset alert
My dog crapped and pissed all over herself. This doesn’t happen on a regular basis, just when she is being chased by my dog sitter.
You see, my family and I got the outstanding opportunity to spend a weekend at Virginia Beach in a cabin for a low, low price. So, reasonable thoughts followed, such as:
1. We can board the dogs (dogs would have to get inside of car. Pass)
2. We can take the dogs with (see #1 above)
3. We can hire a pet sitter! (Eureka… with poor results)
Our sitter was a very experienced person with an impressive resume that included bears and tigers. Grant it, I have neither bear nor tiger to offer as a challenge. It turns out she needed neither as she was bested by:
The Basset Hound from Hell (movie rights forthcoming)
This experienced and confident sitter called my cell phone on day one of our trip to inform me that:
a. Basset came out of kennel with the lightning fast reflexes of a Cheetah (something she did not have on that resume, by the way).
b. Basset pissed all over herself and all objects she came in contact with for approximately 10 straight minutes (this includes rugs and the sitter. Who knew Basset has bladder the size of New Jersey).
c. Basset then crapped herself in the house in multiple spots whilst barking a tune (I’m thinking something patriotic perhaps?)
c. Basset, with the ferociousness of a wild beast (presumably something more intimidating than bear or tiger) proceeded to corner said experienced pet sitter with, and I quote, “a nervous growl” and further refuse to re-enter her kennel.
Neither Snausage nor dog biscuit proved to be the great temptation needed to dislodge said Basset from her final chosen defensive position on the leather chair (also polished with urine). Like a cross between a Marine sniper and a Kung Fu expert, she managed to obtain the treats and return to her perch without collateral damage or progress toward her kennel.
Although discouraged by these first day antics, our experienced sitter assured me that, if left out just this one night, she would surely be able to re-insert this out-of-control dog into her kennel on day two. I left the phone conversation with high expectations, bated breath, and the promise of a text or call the next day with an update.
Day two proved to be uneventful for our Basset and sitter… if you count turds flying like bullets, urine spraying like a water hose, and more teeth bearing than a rabid wolf pack as uneventful. The Basset was no more interested in befriending our pet sitter on day two than the previous day and proceeded to threaten the loss of any appendage that ventured near her, Snausage or not. Befuddled, but not completely discouraged, the sitter proceeded to clean up messes, all the while, I am certain, looking over her shoulder with care and hope that she would not be trounced by a 39 pound Daschund look-a-like. Keep in mind that there was another Basset in the house at the time who was mostly cooperative and obedient the entire time… even allowing the sitter to pet him. Please note: The cooperative Basset is decidedly male. Ladies, just a note so hold the hate mail.
Day three proved unsuccessful at a similar level. Let’s just call it a “three-peat.” Male Basset resigns himself to putting up with this stranger in the house (after all, she has food!) and female Basset proceeds to threaten dismemberment and offer bodily waste, panic, and mayhem.
Upon arriving home, I found a completely hoarse female Basset smelling of bad things, a curiously comfortable male Basset in a kennel filled with Snausages and gas, and a note from our bewildered visitor thanking me for “the business.” I’m not sure which “business” she was referring to as there was both “funny business” as well as “business taken care of” in a bathroom way.
One thing is for sure, however. Score Basset 1 – Sitter 0. Now we are just deciding on a rematch.