We took Miss Two back to the city to spend some time with her other grandparents yesterday. Then for the return trip we collected our canine grandson for an overnight while our daughter and son-in-law embarked upon their momentous trip to the maternity ward.
As a non-lover of animals, I have to admit that grandparently duties are being really stretched when they involve dog-sitting. Max the Staffy has been to stay before, and I must say that he is a whole lot more obedient than some other grandchildren that I know, but that doesn't mean I relish being responsible for him when comes to visit my house. But since I am going for a walk anyway, he is taken for a play in the park each day - just as the human grandkids are.
With the children I feel very much in my comfort zone. I know what they like to do in parks and I can join in, have fun and even smile and exchange conversation with the other adults - including those extra young Mums that are clearly a third of my age.
But when it comes to dog-walking it's another kettle of fish -- or perhaps what I should be saying is, I am a fish out of water. There's an uncomfortable feeling in my stomach as soon as I see all the dog-owners congregated gregariously in the off-leash section of the park. As I saunter past with Max's leash gripped tight, I can feel their eyes upon me, sizing me up and working out instantly that I am definitely not one of them.
I pray that my charge won't deposit a turd where they will observe my ineptitude at scooping it up with the clean, one-handed swoop that they have all perfected. And I carefully stay out of range to avoid any conversation that might lead to some awkward technical questions about my animal's breed, behaviour, or personality. Unsure of Max's potential in a conflict, I grip the leash even tighter at the first sign of a stoush between any of the animals.
I go through the motions of throwing the icky, spittle covered ball - until either it or I has run out of bounce - knowing all too well that Max will never be the one to end the game. Then finally it's the walk back home - being dragged along the street where I will be yanked off every few minutes to check out any disgusting smelly spot in the landscape that happens to take Max's fancy.
It's always a relief to get home again -- and now it's even more of a relief knowing that my charge is back at his own home tonight.
But all in a good cause on this occasion... for today was the day that grandchild # 3 made his grand entry to the world. Curly-headed, pink and crinkly - all 9 lbs 4 oz of him.
Yes, another candidate for walks in the park!
Yeah, dealing with slag and slobber is definitely one of the downsides of dog ownership. But staffies are great -- very obedient, very good-natured, very good with kids. I had one as a teenager. The only downside is that they were bred for pit-fighting and can pick fights with other dogs and animals on occasions.
Posted by: elsewhere | June 13, 2006 at 10:07 AM
Congratulations on your new Grandson. What a big boy
Posted by: kerrin | June 13, 2006 at 01:07 PM
Congratulations Grandma. 4.195 kilos is pretty big. Hope your daughter came through that OK.
Posted by: Tjilpi | June 13, 2006 at 02:52 PM
Congrats on your new grandbaby!
As for your doggie problem I offer but one word: C-A-T
Posted by: Kit | June 14, 2006 at 02:03 AM
I'll send you my .303, on loan, if the dog becomes a real problem. And while you've got it, you might like to take a few pot shots at the odd cat or two.
Posted by: Tjilpi | June 14, 2006 at 10:45 AM