Dog Sitting

This weekend I dog sat for my friends Sarah and Mike. Good times. Sarah and Mike are the ones that I believe H posted about from a wedding. Not sure. Anyway, let's just say, drunkenness occurred with H and I. Open. Bar. Need I say more?!?

Anyway, they were using up a wedding gift from our office building and so they had asked if I could dog sit. And I love their dog. LOVE HIM. The only things I don't really enjoy (but find funny) about Max, a Boston Terrier, who I refer to as Max E. Pad (and Mike absolutely hates it) are as follows:

1) He likes to sleep between my legs. Either on top of the covers or underneath the covers. And even if I move him, he just goes back.

2) I could be sleeping on my back and he'll still move between my legs so I have to move my leg all awkwardly and try to sleep.

3) He likes to go up and sniff my ear while I sleep and then he'll move the covers up and bury under the covers to get there. Much like a mole or some other animal that likes to dig.

4) He is constantly licking stuff. Like the sheets, his paws, the couch. Which would make the sleeping between my legs super awkward if he had his head facing my you know what, but thank goodness he sleeps the other way.

5) He won't let me make the bed. He just keeps jumping up on the bed. He thinks it's a game.

I adore Max though. I wish I could have taken him to the dog park or something though. But walking, well. . . still a little slow. . .

On a complete and utter side note, the first time Dean and I spent the night together (in the beginning of our strictly platonic friendship) was when I was dog sitting. Max kept freaking me out that first time I dog sat by jumping up and running to the door barking. Dean and I had only really known each other for like a month, but he volunteered to stay the night with me since I was telling everyone how it was freaking me out. Perhaps I should have let him stay on the couch that night. However, if he had never spent the night, I probably wouldn't have gotten to know him as well as I do. He had diarrhea of the mouth that first morning. Seriously, just kept talking. And I highly doubt my bed head made him nervous. . . :)