Dogsitting

Son Brian and DIL Nicole (along with their dog Yves) came into town last week for Thanksgiving.  They stuck around through the weekend, then flew out on Monday for a conference in San Francisco. They left their extra things here....some clothes, a gym bag, and a few shopping totes.  They also left Yves.  Hubby Tony and I were the designated dogsitters until they came back this afternoon.

I knew it would be an interesting couple of days.  The first time Yves visited the cats didn't know what to make of her.  Since then she's been here many times.  Jackson and Pepper no longer run and hide when she's here, but their relationship is chilly.  Now they'd have to co-exist with the dog for a long period of time.

There were a couple of issues we had to navigate.  The first was Yves's food. At home she has a bowl of dog kibbles readily available to her and she nibbles throughout the day.  On their first visit Nicole tried setting the bowl out in their bedroom.  Later that day we caught Jackson eating from the bowl, so letting Yves eat at will was not an option.  The solution--close the bedroom door when she's out with us.  Yves gets to visit the room on a regular basis, and we shut her in until she's finished eating.  She didn't seem to mind at all.

Resting on Brian's clothes

In addition to figuring out the food, we also had to think about sleeping patterns.  At bedtime Yves is used to sleeping with Brian and Nicole, and reportedly likes to cuddle up next to someone.  Pepper is used to sleeping at the foot of the bed around Tony's legs.  Which animal would end up with the prime real estate in our room when the lights went out?  The first night we left both bedroom doors open (and put away the food bowl).  At bedtime Yves trotted into 'her' room and jumped up on that bed.  As far as we know she's never ventured into ours (although Son Donald reported she greeted him at the front door each night when he came home from work, then disappeared back upstairs).  When Tony got up to fed the cats he put Yves's food out, too, then closed the door. Yves never complained.

A third issue was bathrooming.  We don't have a fenced yard, so each time Yves went outside she had to be on a leash.  It was easier to take her out the front door then navigate the flight of stairs from the deck to the back yard.  She had a great time walking around, sniffing at the tree, the utility box, and random patches of grass until she picked just the right spot to take care of her business.  By the second day I was remembering to bring a newspaper sleeve outside with me to pick up her messes.

Five years ago today: New Thing #329--Beautify