Lately my caregiving skills have been tested by new clients. These clients happen to be the four legged kind. This summer I have become the dog watcher of Enid. It is truly remarkable how many people have asked me to watch their little darlings over the past several weeks. I have become friends with a couple of chihuahuas, a St. Bernard, a great Dane and some pit bulls. So far I have not been injured by any of these dogs nor have I lost any. I let them go potty, and I give them food and attention. I believe that they adore me, even while they are mad at their parents for deserting them.
Things have moved along smoothly. I go in and out of people's houses, one dog here, two dogs there, and , of course, I still have to care for my own dog, who is settling in fairly well since she has joined me in my little home. Their are mishaps here and there- a little poop on the living room floor at one house, a little dog puke on the floor at my house ( note to self: do not feed the poodle bacon).
Then yesterday happened.
After church, I went to let the pit bulls out. A few minutes after leaving I realized my mistake: I didn't have the house key. I was wearing a dress, so I had not slipped it in my pocket after unlocking the door as I had been doing all weekend. I had set it down on the kitchen table. And I knew deep down in my heart that it was still on the kitchen table, and I had locked myself out of the house. Horrible moment of realization- I was so mad at myself! I ran a couple of errands and went home to change clothes, all the while thinking about how I was going to solve this problem. I drove back to the house and looked around. Tried to open the garage door -nope. The dogs started barking. Went to the back yard and tried to take the screen off a window- failure. I went back and sat in the car and finally called my friend and confessed that I had locked myself out of her house. She told me that the kitchen window should be unlocked so if I could get the screen off I could get in that way. Went back and tried again. Dogs still barking. I'm hoping that no neighbors are watching me. At that moment I received a text message. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and saw that it was one of those chain messages, and it started out like this: "God has seen you struggling with something." I laughed- how appropriate.
I then decided I needed to recruit some help. So I used a lifeline and called a friend. For the sake of anonymity I will change his name: Burt came quickly to my aid armed with tools to break in to the house. I have never had to ask a friend to help me in a criminal act before. He used a screwdriver to remove the screen from the window. The dogs continued barking. Window open- things are looking up! Then I had to be hoisted up. As I started headfirst through the window, I suddenly realized I didn't know how to land on the floor without injuring myself. If I was really cool like Ziva David and had been trained by the Mossad, I could have just somersaulted in without a second thought. Alas, I am not a fictional television character. I came back down and decided to try something else. I pulled over the plastic doghouse and stood up on it. It promptly collapsed! Of course. Burt said HE could just jump through the window, but he was pretty sure he would not receive a friendly welcome from Pitbulls 1 and 2. I agreed. Next step- garbage can- much more sturdy than the doghouse. I managed to get up on that and then sit on the windowsill- hitting the kitchen floor feet first rather than head first. Mission accomplished. As Burt left, he said, "Make sure you get the key."
