So I’ve been volunteered once again to dog sit my favorite dog that’s not my dog, Lotte. She is a happy, clumsy, sometimes overly-sensitive, and adorable dog who came from the streets of Egypt all the way to her mom’s loving arms in Berlin. Dog sitting Lotte consists of long walks through the streets, hunting for playmates for her in the neighborhood parks, overfeeding her whatever she wants (in exchange for love, of course) and cuddling up on the bed at the end of the day.
This was the first time I’ve watched Lotte since A moved in. He, of course, also loves dogs and happily bought her about 500 grams of raw meat to welcome her to our home. This worked like a charm and she would not leave his side the rest of yesterday evening for fear he might walk into the kitchen and accidentally eat all the meat himself, instead of saving her just another bite more (she had nothing to worry about.) He even invited her to join us on the bed last night, which I thought I’d never see. She nervously accepted (it’s a very high jump from the floor to the bed,) but once she managed to push me nearly off the bed and take up the entire center, she settled down and curled up.
And as she lays snoring gently on the couch next to me, wrapped up in the same blanket in which I am currently wrapped, I am considering calling her mom and asking to keep her for just one more day!