My parents went out of town last week. Which in all theory should be a wonderful time as I live in my parents basement ( I know, I am super cool) and when my parents are out of town, the whole house is mine and there are no parents around to pester me. The problem being is that my family has two dogs that love my mother more than anything. She loves them more than anything also, which includes her children...dogs or kids...dogs win hands down with my mother. So my mom goes out of town and the dogs go into major depressive mode. They wallow. They whimper. Izzy tries to get sick and die. They have to be petted 24/7. Izzy poops/piddles in the house. Izzy dumps the bathroom garbage out and eats and scatters throughout the house used female unmentionables. Shelby refuses to eat. Izzy starts limping as if her leg is broken. ALL BECAUSE MY MOTHER IS GONE!!!
Now if I did not live in Hell, it would not be -23 without windchill. And if it was not -23 without windchill, I would just toss both dogs outside to bother anything and everything but me. But since it was -23 without windchill for 99% of the week my parents were out of town, the dogs could barely go outside to do their business, which left me having to deal with them inside, the entire blasted time.
Now before you go feeling bad for my poor little puppies who miss their mom, let me tell you what a great doggie babysitter I am. I took the dogs for a walk every day that is was only -10 and above. I took them for car rides. I scheduled 2 doggie play dates for Shelby. I played with Izzy. I bought them special doggie treats. I purchased a back scratcher for Shelby which she loves greatly. I pet them, I love them, I feed them AND I give them treats. And what do they do to repay me? Well, Shelby ran away. (we found her). Izzy repeatedly wrapped herself around the column outside requiring me to go outside EACH AND EVERY TIME and unwrap her to get her back inside. (Definition of an idiot: Doing something over and over again and expecting a different result) Though one could argue that the dog got exactly what she wanted, while it was me who kept having to go outside in the -23 degree weather and unwrap the stupid dog to let her back in. I reached my limit though on Monday morning at 5am. The parents had been gone a week and both dogs had been very unappreciative of my attempts to keep them happy. So Monday morning, 5am, approximately -20 degrees outside and of course, dumb dog Izzy had wrapped her leash around the pole outside. So I go trotting outside, in my not so warm pj's to untangle the dumb dog when I take a step down the stair and my ankle folds (yes, the same ankle that I hurt a year ago), my ankle folds and I end up in a snow bank. I just sat there, to tired to be mad at the stupid creature who was to dumb to not tangle herself up around the pole. I climbed out of the snow bank, my pj's covered in snow, my hands frozen from being in the snow, and my ankle on fire. Of course the dog was all sorts of happy. And now, two days later, my ankle still hurts. Dumb dogs.