Former Room mate jetted off to Orlando Monday afternoon for another "conference" (read: another drunkfest and orgy). We had already discussed in detail Sammy's schedule and the do's and don'ts while I was house sitting.
According to Former Room mate, her darling angel could keep himself preoccupied with various toys throughout the house and required only minimal attention...lies. He had only a need to go out every now and then and wasn't really that into being outside...more lies. His schedule was so specific that his potty schedule was very predictable and wouldn't be any problem as he was rarely off of his schedule...biggest lie of all.
Since she left, he has done nothing but the opposite of everything I was told to expect.
Like begging to go outside every five freaking minutes.
Then having an "accident" on the rug even though he was just outside, with me standing there for an hour tellin him to "go pee pee" or "go poopy". Little bastard.
Last night was the last straw. He was taken outside three times between 8 and 9:30 p.m. All three times he did his business and should have been good to go until this morning when I woke up at 5:15 a.m. Notice the words should have been all together in that last sentence? Yeah. 3:30 this morning he was begging to go out.
I'm not even going to get into the battle over the obnoxious squeeky toy.
All I know is this is the face of evil and I will 1) never house-sit for anyone ever again and 2) never have any love for small dogs of any kind after this. Just you wait, I will break this dog and he will do my bidding before these 10 days are over!
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