It may seem that Mack has it real easy, but if you ask him, he’d say that he gets just as burnt out as you or me. I mean c’mon….you sleep 8 hours, get up, woof down your food, shit, climb back up onto your couch and sleep 8 more hours, get up again, woof down your food, shit, shriek for an hour or two, chew on a toy, grumble through a walk around the block and climb back up onto your couch and sleep for 8 hours.
Modern Bulldog Life. It’s stressful.
Mack appreciates an occasional escape from the daily rigors of being a dead-beat father to Peterbilt. And one of his favorite places to stay is at my in-laws house.
As soon as the last mound of snow melted, my in-laws showed up on our doorstep, just in from Arizona, ready to spend the next 6 months in their Minnesota home. Within minutes of their arrival, they had already asked to dog-sit Mackie for a few days. Here’s how that conversation went:
In-Laws: “Hey guys! Good to see you! Long time no see!’
Us: “Good to see you guys, too! How was–”
-and then they rush over to Mack to say hi.
So on Sunday, my husband dropped Mackie off at his parents (or Mack’s grandparents) house so Mack could chill with them for a few days. As always, Mack could care less about you when you turn to leave. The minute he’s at his grandparent’s house, you’re now chopped liver. Not even so much as a good-bye glance when you head out the door. He’s already on to bigger and better things.
I like to think that to Mack, going to his grandparents house is a lot like a taking a weekend trip to a beach or some other relaxing place. I like to think that if there were ever a travel a brochure about staying at my in-laws that would be intended for a target audience of old, crotchety bulldogs, it would like a little like this. Enjoy:
After a few days, I decided that the in-laws were probably tired of being endlessly berated by a 4-legged creature.
Even though Mack loves his grandma and grandpa, Mack was sure happy to see me yesterday when I came to pick him up.
I’ve never received such a welcome. From the dog who’s typical first reaction to when I come home for the day is to shoot me a look and walk off in the opposite direction, I got the full 5-star treatment. Full-on nub-wagging, twirling, marching of the paws. Ears pinned and everything.The grandparents had to restrain him every time I went out to the Jeep to load up his stuff. By the time I was ready to load Mack up, he was running at full speed towards me, which is something that Mack reserves for only special occasions.
“Get me out of here!! These people never sleep! They’re always home!!!”, Mack seemed to say.
Oh, did I forget to mention that my in-laws have more energy, more plans and have bigger social circles that we do?
I suspect Mack had his fill of constant company, bright, sun-filled rooms and not being allowed on any couches, whatsoever. Because what kind of shit is that?!?!
Don’t it always seem to go, that you don’t know what you got, til it’s gone?
Mack may shriek when left by himself in his downstairs apartment, but that room also comes with his very own, scrubby-ass couch that he gets to lounge around on.
He may be left alone all day long while we’re at work, but our finished basement is ideal for sleeping: always dark, cool, quiet and comfortable.
Our ice cubes may be inferior, but we are fully stocked with dog treats.
Peterbilt may be totally annoying, but Peterbilt is totally annoying. I got nothing on that one.
Mack, feeling very happy about being at home and very sleep deprived, didn’t hesitate climb onto his ratty old couch and fall asleep when he got home.
“Oh, couch. How i’ve missed you”