Looking After Baxter

I’m coming to the end of my time of looking after Baxter. My dog sitting duties will end when his het lagged humans arrive home tomorrow. In my previous post I said that he was camera shy but ha! I’ve snapped him. Isn’t he a distinguished boy? He’s mighty sprightly for a fourteen year old as I’ve found out.

We’ve been muddling along nicely and got into a little routine. He rouses me at night when he needs a wee or his blankie rearranged. To be honest I’m often awake anyway. My sleep pattern is a little awry at the moment. In the mornings Baxter sits with me while I have my first cuppa in bed. He waits outside the bathroom while I have my shower. Then after we’ve both had breakfast we head out for a walk.

Baxter takes me rather than it being the other way around. One day he went for a paddle at high tide in the cove. On another we turned out of the house in the other direction We ended up exploring the perimeter of the local cricket club, a place I’ve never been before. There’s a wonderful grove of berry filled shrubs and mushrooms. I thought that it must one of his usual dog walking haunts but Ruff Stu, his owner says that he hadn’t been there before either.

After walkies I refill his drinking water and make sure that the back door is open so that he has access to the garden. Then I return to my own home until the early afternoon. When I get back we both have a bit of a siesta. I then read or do stuff on my laptop. Hot Stuff then turns up and we have all supper together. My partner has a naughty habit of letting the dog lick his plate. He calls him the canine dishwasher. Sweetcorn kernels from the allotment went down swimmingly. At around sundown I ‘ve been taking Baxter his final walk for the day. I’ve become a dab hand with that extendable lead and the inside out poo bag technique.

Once during my singleton years I went on just one date with an interesting and guy. We got on really well but there was no romantic spark. We parted amicably. ‘You’d make a wonderful friend.’ he said. ‘Boundaries, darling!.’ I replied. It’s not why we’re on a dating site. Anyway his pseudonym was something like ‘No Pets’. He was adamant that he didn’t want to be tied to the routine of an animal. ‘Unless’ he said, ‘Someone had a very elderly cat on his last legs and she was very hot. Then I might consider it.’ I totally get this. A week of looking after Baxter has been a pleasure but I’m looking forward to getting back to my usual routine where time is more my own. Taking care of the humans in my life is responsibility enough.

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