Crazy Boy

I went to pick up Guinness from Holly’s Pride this morning. He has been there for 10 days. While we were away, I found a golf outlet store and shopped for a left golfer’s glove with open fingers to wear in the summer while walking Guinny. It is pink leather with a mesh back to avert suntan lines. Hopefully, wearing such a glove will prevent me from losing layers of skin again. I put it on when I arrived at the pet hotel, because my finger is not healed up yet, and I certainly cannot handle Guinness without some protection on that wound.

As I entered the office, two couples were waiting to pick up their dogs. First, two great danes came out for the one couple. They were very excited to see their masters AND me! There were jumping on me too. After they left, while we were waiting for the other couple’s two Goldens to appear, I mentioned that the great danes were just as excitable as Guinness. The girl at the desk said, “Well… no one is as excitable as Guinness. He wins the prize for being the craziest.” What?! After paying out bill, I asked if the “mattress” we had improvised is still working well. She said that it was a fabulous idea to do that. “He doesn’t lie on it until bedtime, though. He spends his day lying at the door watching everyone go by. Then after 6:00, he will get up on his bed and lie down.”

Before bringing him home, I had unpacked most of my suitcase, sorted piles of laundry, and had stacked things in different places to be put away. First he found a washcloth in a laundry pile. Next he took some tissue paper that had been wrapped around new clothes. The third thing he stole was a shocker: my blue jeans!!! They were folded up into a neat square; he grabbed them and ran.

The crazy boy was exhausted! This is how he spent his day. We did go for a promenade around the property late in the afternoon. The glove works like a charm! I let him run loose dragging his leash in the yard while I cleaned up some things. I neglected to check if the landscapers had left my jerry-rigged fence intact when they mowed last week. Without warning, he dashed through the fence, as it was not all put together, to get to the street sidewalk! A man was walking his labradoodle. By the time I caught up with him, they were happily dancing around each other and the man was holding Guinness’s leash.

I have been contemplating finding a personal trainer, and now I need to call fence companies tomorrow to see if we can do something more sturdy than my flimsy fence.