|Me being molested by three Jack Russells in the Canaryville neighborhood|
We spent eight days in Chicago. Besides going to see a show, Motown, going to a wedding, eating every type of food from great to bad, and catching an awful illness, we got to tour the neighborhood that we are thinking of buying a house in. Mark and I also spent an afternoon eating ribs with my mom from her favorite rib joint. Yet the whole time I was there, there was something missing. My dogs. In the past we have driven to Chicago so that the dogs could come along. This time we were only staying a week so I had to leave them behind. Luckily for me, right around the corner is a lady named Mandy who baby sits dogs for a living. So while I was gone, Chandler and Bette got walked three times a day, fed twice a day, and got to sleep with the nice lady in their own bed. Every evening I got a text and a photo of the two dogs lounging around the house. On the first night Mandy asked me in the text if Chandler always needed to be lifted onto the bed. It turns out that Chandler was playing her. For eight nights Mandy lifted that eighty pound mutt onto the bed. I know that is the case because now, every night since we have been home, Chandler stands at the side of the bed and gives me a look that says, "Well asshole, aren't you going to lift me up?" No, no I am not going to start lifting that moose up onto the bed. There will be plenty of time when he is older that I will give in and do things for him, but as long as I know he can do it, Chandler is going to pull his own ass up onto that bed. As for Bette, she literally flies across the room bouncing off the chair and into bed. I really missed those two dogs while we were in Chicago. Really, it got to the point that I was accosting just about every person who I saw in Chicago with a dog. I was boring everybody with my story of leaving my dogs alone in Florida. It got really weird when I started offering to come by and walk their dogs later. That's how much I missed them.