I suppose today is as good a day as any to explain myself a bit.
The past six weeks have been full of changes for the husband and me. We moved from Baltimore back to Ohio. We went to celebrate the holidays with family in Ohio and Michigan. We went to France and India. We came back and battled jetlag and colds to settle back in, go back to working in the office (husband) and adjust to working from home (me) in a new place. Whew. I need a coffee break just from typing all that.
Ok, I’m back. Some of these changes have been hinted at in my blog. My longtime readers will realize that the plates and bowls have changed. (click on photos for recipes)
This is because we are living in someone else’s house. Don’t tell them! Ok, ok, they already know. As the husband and I were searching high and low for a furnished apartment to rent in our new city while we looked for a house, our friends were searching for a house and dog sitter while they were going to be out of the country for 6 months. How convenient! We applied for the job, were accepted, and were crazy excited!
Reality hit when I was left with the dog.
Back story: while I grew up on a farm with lots of animals, we didn’t have pets the way most people have pets. We had barn cats to keep the mice down and the occasional dog taken in from a neighbor who passed away. They didn’t have insurance, and they weren’t allowed in the house. And sometimes we had to stay away from them if they had fleas.
This doesn’t mean I don’t like pets or think that people who have pets in the house are crazy or something. Not completely. It just means I had never really thought too hard about voluntarily inviting an animal to live in my home so that I can take care of its every need.
But I have to say, this dog isn’t so bad. Mostly because I hardly know she’s here during the day. She’s what her owners call a couch-sitting dog, and I have found that to be quite accurate. She stands at the back door when she needs to go out, gets fed once a day, and doesn’t make major messes aside from her shedding hair. I can deal with that.
Here’s what I found when I returned from a 10 minute errand this morning:
Here’s what I found in the dining room when I went searching for the loaf of bread:
And here’s what happened to the culprit:
Not an ounce of remorse on that face. She had means, motive, and opportunity. She was the only one with access to the delicious loaf of bread that would have gone perfectly with my lunch of leftover soup. She has therefore been convicted as guilty and sentenced to hang out in her cage for as long as she wants. Given my lack of experience with dogs inside houses, I really have no idea how to punish her so she knows that what she did while I was gone is wrong. So I’m doing nothing and giving her dirty looks whenever I see her. For a first offense, that’ll do.
But I will be hiding homemade bread in the cupboard from now on!