Baby and Darling (continuing tales)

Another installment from my short story collection entitled:

Tales Unleashed:

A collection of nearly true stories from my life as a pet sitter

Baby and Darling

Standing at the door after ringing the bell, Lucy, my assistant pet sitter, and I heard the barking of small dogs. A forty-something couple opened the door, each holding an unfriendly, though perfectly groomed, white Bichon Frise. The husband was quite heavy and looked vaguely familiar to me. He placed a meaty arm around the slight shoulder of his wife.

     “Hi,” they both greeted simultaneously. “Which one of you is Linda?”

     “Hello. Nice to meet you,” I said, “I’m Linda and this is Lucy,” I gestured toward my friend. “She helps me sometimes and is my back-up sitter in the event I get sick or hurt.”

     The couple smiled. “Please, come in, come in and meet the girls,” the husband offered warmly. We stepped inside the foyer and closed the door behind us.

     “They are our life,” said the wife, “We’ve never left them before so this is a really big, scary step for us.” She continued, “The little one is Baby and the slightly larger one is Darling. Oh, and I’m Kelly and this is John,” she added, as an afterthought. I looked at John, thinking I knew him from somewhere or other.

     “Well, hello little ones,” I spoke to the dogs in a soft, quiet voice. They answered with a low growl.

     “May I offer them a treat?” I asked as I went for my pocket.

     “Like a dog biscuit?” Kelly asked, looking horrified, “Our babies do not eat dog food!” She turned to her husband and said, “I certainly hope this is going to work out.” She looked doubtful. The little dears, perched in their parent’s arms, sustained their growling.

     John, appearing slightly more reasonable than his spouse, spoke in calming tones. “Now, Kell, I’m sure Linda will do whatever we ask, right Linda?” he asked as he looked at me pointedly. I thought I saw pleading in his eyes!

     “Well, I hope she isn’t like the others we’ve interviewed,” she said disdainfully, speaking as if Lucy and I were not standing right there in front of them.

     “We’ve got to give her a chance, Kell,” he beseeched, again as if they were privately conversing.

     Swallowing hard and attempting a brave face, Kelly led us into their kitchen and to the sink.

     “OK, first things first,” she said brightly.

     Slightly confused as to why I was standing in front of the sink, I just assumed that for some reason this odd couple conducted their business at the sink. I lifted my briefcase onto the counter to the right of the sink, assuming I would be doing my little, get-acquainted spiel right there.

     Kelly lifted a beautifully manicured hand, in a stop sign manner.

“Hold it right there, aren’t you going to scrub your hands?” she asked incredulously. “We do everything we possibly can do to prevent any germs from entering the girls’ environment. Oh, my god, John!” She yelled to her husband desperately.

     John was standing right behind her so I don’t know why she was yelling.

     “John,” she said as she realized where he was, “We are just going to have to cancel this trip. I know this woman,” she threw a very ugly look in my direction, “came with the best recommendations, but, oh-my-god, John – I had to tell her to wash her hands!”

     The dogs, grasping the gravity of my error, began barking hysterically.

     John put his arm around his wife and led her into the next room. As they were turning to go I thought I heard John calmly trying to convince his wife about the necessity of attending Kelly’s mother’s funeral. I turned to see Lucy’s face bright red as she tried to contain laughter. I elbowed her and opening my eyes very wide at her, I shot the ‘don’t you dare’ look as I struggled from bursting into hysterics myself – these people were totally whacked!

     A moment later, John re-entered the room alone. Again, I wondered where I had previously seen him. Before he could say anything, I began, “John, maybe we should go. It’s pretty clear I won’t be able to please your wife and to be quite honest, I don’t know if anyone can.”

     “Please don’t go,” he was begging now. “She can be a bit obsessive about the dogs but we really have to take this trip.” Lowering his voice he said, “Her mother has just passed away and we have to attend the funeral and see the family. This is just not an appropriate time to take Baby and Darling with us as we usually do. I’ll talk to her.”

     “I don’t know…,” I trailed away, my hand reaching for my briefcase.

     “Look, I’ll double your fee. We’ve already interviewed, and rejected, a half a dozen pet sitters. We’re running out of time - and choices,” he finished anxiously. “We have to leave first thing tomorrow morning.”

     This time Lucy was the one who elbowed me. Ignoring the sharp poke in my ribs, I looked at John, pondering the wisdom of taking on this job. It was going to be a giant hassle and who knew how these miniature monsters would behave when their doting owners were away. Still, he did seem quite upset and at his wits end about what to do. And there was the matter of making double my usual fee – that was certainly attractive!

After several, long moments during which I think poor John was actually holding his breath, I began by saying,”OK, I’ll do it, but there must be some ground rules clearly understood between us.”

“Anything,” John replied, letting out his breath audibly.

“First,” I stated, “Your wife can write down instructions and I will adhere as closely as is reasonable but I wish to conduct business only with you.”

“OK,” agreed John.

“And second,” I continued, “If either of your dogs bite me, I will not return to your house to continue service, so you need to let me know up front if they have a history of biting.”

He hesitated. “They haven’t actually drawn blood, but they have nipped a time or two,” he confessed.

“Hmmmm…, do they have run of the house when you two are away or do you confine them in crates?” I asked.

He looked at me in amazement and said, “We have never left them alone since we brought them home as little puppies. And we certainly would never put them in a cage like animals!”

It took all my will power not to sigh loudly and roll my eyes at that last comment. I said, “I realize you have never boarded them, but what do you do with them when you go to the store or to the movies or out to eat?”

“No, I mean we do not leave them at all – ever. One of us is with them at all times,” he answered.

I stared at him in disbelief. “Are you telling me that these dogs have never been left alone for even an hour?”

“That’s correct,” he answered, matter of factly and with obvious pride at their dedicated commitment. 

“Let me get this straight. What you are telling me is that these dogs are not even left alone when you walk down to the end of the driveway to get the mail, or take the trash down to the end of the street or do yard work, right?” I asked uncomprehendingly.

“That’s right,” he answered again.

“OK,” I said slowly, trying to grasp this bizarre scenario. I looked at Lucy to see if see was catching all this. She was bending down pretending to tie her sneakers but I could see her back move up and down in silent laughter. “You do understand that I cannot sit here all day long babysitting your dogs, don’t you? I’m here for forty-five minutes or so several times a day to walk and feed them but I cannot stay here all day long – I have other clients to tend.”

“Oh, dear,” he replied, quite taken-aback. “I didn’t realize that. I don’t know how this will work then. I mean, they could quite possibly freak out. How do other people do this? Surely we are not the only owners devoted to our four-footed children.”

“Well, John, there are many wonderful, loving pet owners out there who adore their dogs, but I’ve never met any that go to quite the same extremes as you and Kelly. I mean you are really not doing them any service by making them so dependent on you. What would happen if something happened to the two of you? They would be totally lost,” I finished, sounding very authoritative.

“Precisely,” answered John quickly. “That’s why one of us is always with them. We have prepared for every possible scenario so that they will never become orphaned.”

“So,” I further queried, totally flabbergasted, “You guys don’t ride in a car together or fly together or anything?”

I heard Kelly calling to her husband. “John, are they gone yet.”

“Not yet, Sweetie, we’re still discussing a few things,” he called back.

“I don’t think there is anything further to discuss, John, do you?” I asked him, somberly.

“But we have to get to this funeral,” he spoke in an emphatic whisper, teeth clenched together tightly, “This is her mother!”

I gathered my belongings and John walked Lucy and I to the door. I could see that he was still racking his brain, trying to come up with a workable solution.

He tried one more time, “So basically you are telling me that you do not do twenty-four hour stays.”

I shook my head. “I do overnight stays but twenty-four hour stays would not be workable because of my other clients and my own pets.”

Standing at the door, my hand resting on the door knob, I watched as John cast about desperately looking for a solution to his problem. His face was contorted in anxiety and at that moment it struck me from where I recognized him. He had been in my martial arts class years ago but since that time had gained so much weight I scarcely recognized him.

“John, now I know where I’ve seen you before!” I exclaimed excitedly, breaking into his thoughts. “We were in Tae Kwon Do class together, remember? You were one of the black belt masters that taught the class. I was just a yellow belt but I remember you.”

Dawning recognition spread across his face. “Yeah,” he said slowly, “I do remember you. You’re right, I had the feeling I knew you from somewhere, too, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.” He paused thoughtfully. “A lot has changed since then.”

“John, I really want to help you out here, especially since we have discovered some history between us, but you need to be more flexible on leaving your dogs,” I said.

Lucy stood by silently, taking in the giant proportions of the man and looking at me quizzically. “I never knew you took martial arts,” she said curiously as the three of us pondered the situation.

“There’s lots of stuff you don’t know about me, Luce,” I said with a twinkle. “But we’ll save that for another time.” I turned back to John.

“OK, how long do you expect to be gone?” I asked him.

“Let’s see. We were going to leave first thing in the morning and be gone through the weekend returning sometime on Monday,” he said.

“OK, so how about I spend each night here and do two, hour long visits during the day. That means I’ll be here with them for about twelve hours each day,” I concluded.

John looked doubtful.

Then I heard Lucy say, “And then if I visit them twice a day for another hour each time, that should be plenty.”

I smiled thankfully at Lucy then said to John, “You really aren’t going to find anyone to do more than that, John. And besides, this will give them an opportunity to show you and Kelly that they can be just fine without the constant hovering,” I said.

As I mentioned Kelly’s name, I heard her call to John once again, this time with strident overtones, demanding to know why we were still in her home.

“Just one more moment, Kelly,” he called back to her. He turned to us and hurried us out to the front step.

“Can you let me fax you the contract once I have filled it out and signed it?” he asked me. “I’ll also have all the contact numbers and instructions for you.”

“But John, Kelly clearly doesn’t want me to care for the dogs. How are you going to get her to agree?” I asked gently.

“Don’t worry about Kelly, I’ve got to get her to her mother’s funeral and so she has little choice.”

“OK,” I said apprehensively. “I’ve never taken care of someone’s pets against their will. This makes me pretty nervous.”

I pulled a contract out of my briefcase and handed it to him.

“I also need a house key, John,” I said.

He considered that for a moment before reaching into his pocket and pulling out his own set of keys.

“I know I have an extra key some place in the house but I don’t know where at the moment. Just take this one,” he said hurriedly as he released it from his key ring. “I’ll put the security code on the contract that I fax to you, too. Is that all you’ll need?” He clearly wanted to get rid of me quickly.

I thought a moment before ticking off one thing at a time on my fingers, “Key, security code, contract, and dog instructions. Well, that covers the basics. You do understand that I will need payment in advance, right? I also will need clear and concise instructions concerning your dogs, ok, John? We didn’t go over even one thing. Considering how, shall we say, particular you guys are, I don’t know a thing about how to care for your babies. You’ve got to leave me full instructions.”

John was back inside his house now, door almost all the way closed. He spoke through the crack just before he closed it all the way.

“Will do, Linda. I’ll leave a blank check on the counter. You can just fill in the right amount. Gotta go…” then the door clicked shut.

     Lucy and I were back in the car and half way down the street before we looked at each other in total amazement.

     “Whoa, now that was the weirdest couple of people I have ever met. Or even heard of,” said Lucy dazedly.

     “No kidding,” I replied. It was so bizarre I couldn’t even laugh about it. “How can they enjoy any quality of life if they can’t even go for a walk together without those dogs?”

     “Well, this trip will test them, won’t it?” asked Lucy.

     “Can you imagine?” I added, “That woman’s mother died – like she’s DEAD!” I exclaimed, “And she would hesitate to leave her dogs to attend her own mother’s funeral? I mean, that is whacked if you ask me.”

     We traveled along in silence for a while, emerged in our own thoughts. At four o’clock in the afternoon it was still quite warm, and even though it was only May, the promise of a hot summer hovered in the air. A middle-aged man, with an expression of utmost discomfort, was jogging down the sidewalk, a large dark spot of perspiration staining his grey tank top. We passed a young mother pushing a stroller, a black lab accompanying her. Cyclists, crowding me off the road, traveled in packs wearing the uniform of colorful spandex and matching helmets. Everywhere we encountered people enjoying pursuits of their choosing, unencumbered by the chain of neurotic devotion that Lucy and I had just witnessed. I wondered about the dramatic shift that had occurred within John. The man I had once known was active, fit, vibrant and outgoing. He now was grossly obese and in the grip of an obsessive, unreasonable and controlling woman.

     The next day the terrorizing of Lucy and I began. When we entered the house, instantly the two little dogs appeared. Fully dressed in tiny little clothes! One was in a tiny, doll-sized, red polka dot dress and the other dressed in a blue sailor suit. They were barking in loud, high-pitched, rapid yips that immediately grated on my nerves. The high ceilings and tiled floors intensified the sound. I looked at Lucy and we both immediately erupted into bales of uncontrollable laughter. This apparently offended the little dogs because they became even more agitated and barked even more furiously. We kicked off our shoes as we often did so as not to track dirt in and went to the kitchen. There we grabbed the pile of papers which was the instructions and went into a bedroom and closed the door so we could go over each page together. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, we began reading:

Instructions for Precious and Baby

1.Hands must be sanitized before handling dogs or their food!

2.Dogs are never to go outside

3.Dogs go to the bathroom on potty pads located                                       in downstairs bathroom. Instructions concerning disposal of used pads and disinfection of the area are located in that bathroom.

4.Clothing has been laid out on the bed in the     guest room. Clothing choices have been made carefully. There can be no deviations from these choices.

5. Dog’s toys are located in the toy box in the bonus room. Their preferred games and activities are fully outlined on an information sheet attached to the toy box. They must be played and interacted with a minimum of two hours daily.

6. Some of their food has been prepared and placed in labeled, plastic containers in the fridge.  Microwave each container for 17 seconds each and then place in each dog’s appropriate dish. The remainder of the meals will be prepared fresh by you. Menus are posted on the refrigerator. Bibs are located on the counter next to the high chairs along with forks for hand feeding each dog.  Under no circumstances should food be placed on floor.

Lucy and I looked at each other, total disbelief reflected in our faces.

     “Nah,” I said. “They can’t be serious.” I turned the page over, expecting to see a big smiley face or something indicating that this was all a joke. The reverse side was completely blank. I shook my head in incredulity. Outside the room the dogs continued their hysterical barking. I dropped the remainder of the pages on the bed. This was enough to deal with at the moment.

     “Looks like they are one hundred percent serious,” Lucy said with amusement. I looked at Lucy, mouth agape, unbelievingly.

“OK, well, I’ve seen it all now. First of all, how are we going to catch those little monsters?” I wondered aloud.

“Maybe the smell of their food will settle them down,” offered Lucy.

“Let’s hope so,” I answered.

We got up and went to the kitchen, the dogs rushing forward toward our ankles, barking wildly, and then backing away in fear. We stood side by side in front of the fridge, reading the menu that we were to prepare for these dogs. Western omelet, poached eggs and Eggs Benedict were the breakfast meals for the three days they would be gone. I didn’t want to read any further. “This is a joke, right?” I said to Lucy.

“Ummm…I don’t think they mean it as a joke,” she replied.

“I don’t even know how to cook Eggs Benedict!” I said with a mixture of dismay and disgust.

 Opening the fridge, we found a tray of ziplock bags, labeled with each dog’s name and the time of day they were to receive said food. It appeared to be tiny bits of white meat from chicken mixed with brown rice and vegetables. A separate container held chopped fruit which was to be added after the chicken mixture had been heated in the microwave for precisely seventeen seconds. We prepared their food as instructed and then stood there looking at them as they alternated between threatening us and then retreating from us. There was no way they were going to allow us to put bibs on them and place them in their matching, Big Red Dog high chairs! I motioned Lucy to come with me and we made our way to the bathroom and closed the door.

“Whew, this is going to be wild!” I said.

We read the instructions taped to the mirror as to the proper procedure for disposing of the soiled potty pads. A Diaper Genie was employed to contain the pads after the poops were flushed down the toilet. An organic cleaner followed by a disinfectant spray was to be used on the floor before placing a new pad down. This actually was necessary because the dogs had very poor aim and missed more of the pad than they hit.

As Lucy and I fiddled with the Diaper Genie, trying to figure out how to remove the plastic bag of dirty pads, we ended up with the giggles. We decided to take a peek around at the rest of the house real quick before discussing our schedule regarding caring for these little, furry beasts.

Opening the door, we were assaulted once again by frenzied barking. I led Lucy to the front of the house where I had spotted a gorgeous, glossy, black Steinway grand piano. A crystal vase filled with an assortment of fresh roses sat atop the instrument and as a uncharacteristic flourish, a pair of Elton John pink, tinted glasses sat beside the vase. Sheet music was propped up on the music stand. A florescent pink 5x7 index card was leaning against the front of the sheet music with large handwriting instructing no one to touch or play the piano. To the left of the instrument sat a small but exact replica of the large piano, complete with a miniature crystal vase of flowers and tiny, pink glasses.

Shouting to be heard over the barking I said to Lucy, “I wonder if they have a piano teacher for the dogs.”

Laughing, she said, “I bet they hold recitals for them right here in this room. You know, invite all their friends and throw a dinner party with the dogs being the entertainment.”

The room directly across the foyer from where the double pianos sat was the formal dining room. Here, a round, crystal-cut, glass table sat on a roman style pedestal, an enormous silk arrangement adorning the center. Heavy chairs with the seats covered in embroidered brocade, were tucked under the glass tabletop. A lovely, crystal chandelier was suspended over the table. Sunlight sparkled and glinted, casting colored prisms of light here and there around the room. In the corner of the room sat another exact replica of the human-sized dining room table, complete with a tiny chandelier, covered chairs and identical centerpiece. I had never seen anything like this setup before. It was unbelievable!

“How much money do you think these people have spent on all this custom furniture?” I asked Lucy incredulously.

“The dogs have to have a place to entertain. I’m sure they have friends come over to play cards or celebrate a birthday or enjoy a good cookout, right?” She looked at me straight-faced, but I saw total amusement twinkling in her eyes.

“You’re a goof,” I said playfully.

Suddenly we became aware that the house was quiet – the barking had ceased.

“Hey, I wonder what they’re up to,” I said as I left the room and started looking for the dogs. Lucy followed me into the family room. It was a large room, with high ceilings and tiled floors, decorated in the current craze of the West Indies look: lots of palm trees and monkeys, elephants and pineapples. The soft leather sofa was a rich brown and the large ottoman served as both coffee table and foot rest. The furniture was arranged in the common L-shape; the sofa along the long wall and then the identical piece, shrunk to dog size, sitting perpendicular. The dogs had the same throw pillows and ottoman, only smaller, as their human counterparts. An intricately woven, rattan rocker and two tiny versions of the same sat side by side in a corner of the room. Each accessory was duplicated for the dogs – it was ridiculously absurd.

“Why do you think they need an ottoman,” I ventured the question to Lucy, “After all, they have short little legs. It’s not like they can prop them up or anything.”

“I think it is so they have a somewhere to place the tea and crumpets,” she said.

From the master bedroom we heard grunting and scruffling noises. We made our way toward the sounds. The dogs must have been under the bed because although we heard them, we didn’t see them when we entered. We did see, however, a magnificent, king-size, four-poster bed, taking up a good portion of the room. The bed was covered in a deep, down-filled comforter slipped into a rich, cream-colored, brocaded duvet. Mountains of pillows were piled on the bed and a silk throw of sumptuous taupe was tossed in a seemingly careless manner across the foot of the bed. We automatically looked for the dog-size version. Puzzled, we looked about, somewhat dumbstruck – there didn’t appear to be even a regular dog bed in sight. Shrugging, we dropped to our bellies on either side of the enormous bed to see what those crazy dogs were up to. They had seemingly forgotten us and were engaged in a tug of war complete with growling at each other and taking turns vigorously shaking the object that had caused the brawl. It was then that I heard Lucy shriek from the other side of the bed.

“Oh my god, they have my brand new PRADA shoe! I took them off and left them at the door. Get it Amy; they are ruining my $250 new shoe! Damn it, I can’t reach it!”

It was true. The two brats had quickly caught on to the game of keep away and were staying just out of reach. Leaving the shoe smack dab in the middle of floor under the bed, they had resumed their fierce growling and snapping. Our aggravation with this ridiculous situation was causing our usual sense of humor to dissipate. Poor Lucy had a look of total panic – she loved those shoes! I motioned her to get up. We huddled up for a quick conference.

“OK, how about you distract them on your side of the bed and I’ll go for the shoe?” I offered. Lucy nodded and we went to our separate sides. Dropping down once again and peering under the bed to determine the location of the enemy, we saw that the dogs had become strangely quiet, as if they were pondering evil ways to foil our plan. Lucy clucked to them and spoke softly to try and pull their attention from me. It worked and in that instant I reached as far as I could under the bed and grabbed the shoe! Lucy shouted gleefully and that startled the dogs back into action. As they turned and lunged for my hand, I jerked it up toward the bottom of the bed and as I backed out, I racked my arm across something metal. Pulling myself to a sitting position, I saw a long, deep gouge fill with blood. Lucy was already up and around the bed, anxious to see the damage to her precious shoe. She stopped in her tracks.

“Oh, my gosh, did one of them do that?”

“No, I scrapped it on a piece of metal or something under the bed,” I answered. I lay back down to peer under the bottom of the bed and suddenly realized what it was.

“It’s a trundle bed, Lucy. They have a trundle bed to pull out for the dogs. I wonder if we are supposed to pull it out for them at night. I sure hope they have made arrangements for me to sleep in the guest room, I can’t imagine trying to get a good night’s sleep with the Grumpy and Grouchy Growling Twins.”

I looked up to see Lucy holding her shoe as if it were an injured child. It looked pretty well mangled, even from this angle. Poor Lucy looked shocked and horrified.

“My beautiful, EXPENSIVE, Prada shoes are ruined,” she wailed piteously. Surprisingly, I saw big tears well up in her eyes.

“Oh no, don’t cry, Luce. Maybe we can take it to a cobbler or something and he can fix it,” I offered. But when I stood and looked at the shoe still shiny with dog saliva, I knew it was a useless proposition.

“Linda, what the heck is a cobbler?” Lucy exclaimed, total dismay in her voice.

“I’m sure there are shoe fixers that might be able to fix it…” I trailed off weakly.

Shrugging helplessly, I went to the master bath and washed the long cut running the entire length of my arm.

Though still huddled under the bed, the dogs had finally stopped growling and barking. Maybe their sweet revenge at ruining Lucy’s shoe had satisfied their blood lust. Whatever the reason, I was glad for the silence. I left the room, Lucy following sullenly behind me, and went to get my cell phone. We discussed how we would share the care of these animals and I entered all the information into my cell.

“Will you still be able to sleep at my house and take care of Honey for me?” I asked. This was our normal arrangement for the times I had to sleep over at the homes of my clients. It allowed me to make more money which I was able to then share with her.

“Sure,” she answered, still suffering from the loss of her shoe.

“Great,” I said. “I’ll be sure to get Honey’s food ready for you. The guest room is ready for you, too. Just make yourself at home, OK?”

                        We discussed who would come at what times during the day. I left a small, spiral notebook on the kitchen counter so we could communicate back and forth about how the dogs were doing and what would need to be done at the next visit.

         

          When next I spoke to Lucy, she filled me in on the latest episode concerning Kelly and John’s dogs.

     “They didn’t bark quite as much but they still won’t let me pick them up or touch them. Therefore, I still couldn’t feed them,” Lucy said.

     “Well, they may just be getting their first meal ever on the floor,” I responded, “because they really need to eat. Did they go poop on those pads in the bathroom?

     “Yea, they did do that, but I need to take off those ridiculous clothes because I think one of them had a little loose stool and it probably got on the outfit,” Lucy said.

     “Gross,” I muttered. I wondered if I was expected to do laundry for those two.

We found never ending delight and hilarity at the extremes Kelly and John went to in regard to their dogs. We found ourselves doubled over in laughter, tears of merriment rolling down our faces as we tried to adhere to some of their instructions. Our behavior seemed to enchant the dogs as they tilted their heads at us and whimpered to be let in on the joke. As we read the entire booklet of rules, we discovered many more peculiar requests than we had that first visit. There was organized playtime in the bonus room upstairs to take place between the hours of two and four o’clock. A gorgeous, mahogany chest served as a toy box and was chock-full of every plaything imaginable for dogs living on planet earth. We were expected to provide afternoon tea – preferably chamomile - after playtime, complete with china cups served on a silver tray and accompanied with shortbread biscuits. We were told to brush their teeth daily, which was an outrageous idea since we could barely catch them just to change their clothes, let alone pry open those little jaws and attempt a dental cleaning! Lucy had finally resorted to just sitting down on the kitchen floor at their level to feed them. She skipped putting on bibs, though she still had to feed them with a fork because, apparently, they had no idea how to eat from a dish! We found upon pulling out the trundle bed, cute little pajamas to wrestle them into at night. We were told to brush their “puppy tails” – that little bit of hair on the top of their warped, little heads - and put in new hair clips each day, carefully chosen to color coordinate with their outfits. But probably the most bizarre discovery was the Last Will and Testament page. Yes, there it was at the very end of the instruction booklet; directives as to the disposal of every item within the home in the event of their mutual demise. Lucy and I looked at the pages in shock and then we looked at each other.

“I can not believe this one,” I said.

“Are they kidding? Do they expect us, well, you, to take care of their estate?” Lucy asked, incredulously.

“I don’t know what they think but we are merely the pet sitters for these poor dogs. Hey, do you think John is taking Kelly someplace remote to dispose of her? Or maybe, they have a mutual suicide pact or something and…”

“Linda!” Lucy interrupted with false sternness as she grasped my shoulders and looked at me meaningfully, “Get a hold of yourself!” We again broke down in giggles. “Do they have anything in there about the dogs?” she said as she looked over my shoulder at the sheaf of papers.

I scanned down quickly, dragging my finger down the page to the place where the dogs were mentioned. “Oh yea, here it is.”

     We read in silence for a minute and then I heard Lucy whisper almost inaudibly in my ear, “Oh, my, gosh! They want the dogs euthanized and buried with them!”

“Okay, that’s it! These are the most unhinged people I have ever met!” I said.

We looked at the two, small, white dogs that stood looking back at us, brown eyes unknowing. I’d be glad when this job was over.

Thank goodness that was the very next day.