Going to the dogs!

It is official. I have found a job...er...well...sort of. I have become the babysitter of that massive pile of drool, Picasso. Yep, you heard me right. I now spend my days in the company of two dogs. It's not so bad really I don't have to alter my daily slacking too much to accommodate our upstairs neighbors dog and I get 50€ a week to boot, not too shabby if you ask me.
Granted its not all sunshine and lying around on the couch it takes a bit of work- well, ok, lying around on the couch is a big part of dog sitting, but I do some stuff. I had to break up a fight over Picasso's monster bone today. If you think it's fun coming between a Boxer, whose jaws once clamped shut are not opening, and a lab mix growling and bristling over whose got bigger cojones (can you believe I actually had to look up how to spell that and found it!) it's not fun. Try it some time. Picasso definitely came out the winner in that little skirmish. When it comes to cojones Picasso wins hands down, figuratively and literally!
So, other than our little bouts of dominance, things seem to be going smoothly. Ally is a little pissy with me but I'm hopeful that she will soon get over it. It's about time our little princess learned to share a little. G-whiz. I mean, seriously, is it hurting her to have Picasso sleep at one end of the couch while she sprawls across the other? Picasso is relegated to a blanket on the couch due to his excessive drooling problem and Ally has first choice of where she wants to sleep so I don't see why this should cause any problems. But try explaining that to a 4 year old lab mix whose life, thus far, has been to be the center of attention. Yes, we know that it's sick but we can't help ourselves. At least we recognize that we're slightly nuts, unlike some others (whom shall remain nameless) who think it's perfectly normal to refer to their dogs as kids and to even send cards to "grandma and grandpa" detailing their exploits! Now even we don't do that. And although we treat her like the spoiled brat she is we are NOT her mommy and daddy - we're Mel and Josh.
So, as I was saying, princess Ally has her panties in a bit of a twist but I'm hoping she'll get over it in a few days. And if she doesn't then I'll just play with Picasso - he doesn't sulk.
That's only so much you can write about animals that spend half their days snoring loudly on the couch...which reminds me I better start tracking down some more Febreeze, I have a feeling we're going to need a lot of it if we're going to counteract the prevalent doggie odor, which is going to start accumulating rapidly.
Keeping the house in semi-normal order is key considering Josh was rather skeptical about the whole Picasso situation. He doesn't want us to end up with another dog - or, at least, not one named Picasso. Marion and Beat, though very nice, don't seem to be the best dog owners. Beat refuses to allow Picasso into their apartment (see above noted drooling problem) therefore he is stuck in his backyard all day and in his cave (pronounced with a French accent - cah-ve) all night. Now that the weather is getting colder Picasso really can't stay outside all the time. Granted, he does have a cozy little house with straw on the floor and a tarp wrapped around it for extra protection, but he's getting old for a Boxer. He's 9, which apparently is ancient for a Boxer (Josh claims Marion said he was 13 or 14 but I'm pretty sure he's wrong - shhh, don't tell: let him think he's right). Poor Picasso's on meds and he starts to shake if out in the cold too long. How could I not agree to watch him, besides I could really use the 50€ a week- at least now I feel like I contributing something more than our waistbands getting tighter!
C'mon, I know you would feel the same way. Josh's family would have already adopted Picasso if they were living here! I just can't stand to see a neglected animal. I mean it's not inhumane how they treat him, it's just not like a family member. That's how our dogs always were to us, part of the family. It breaks my heart to hear him in his cave whining while I'm in the kitchen getting my morning coffee together or sitting here at the kitchen table typing when all he wants is to be with people, not alone in a dark room.
Enough of this soft-heartedness; if I keep going on I'll work myself up and let him into the apartment all the time and I really don't want to deal with drool 24/7. Perhaps tomorrow will bring something more interesting to write about than dogs asleep on the couch!


p.s. a cave is basically a storage room. The one Picasso sleeps in has two small rooms: one with a fridge, his bed, his food and water, and some boxes; the other, our heating system. It's really not bad, it's just that he loves being with people so much.