The slave labour dog sitter is on strike.

My brother and his girlfriend (for the record, he ended up not going with the new one… idiot) are currently sleeping downstairs. Have been since I got up at like 6. Which means, for the past 3-4 hours, I was taking care of their dog, plus my two. Fortunately for my sanity mom was home for most of it, so we managed to divide the task pretty evenly between us. But, of course, much like the evil that it is, work demanded she actually go in, which meant I had to somehow manage to keep 2 dogs in the house while the one dog that isn’t mine gets taken outside. Not an easy thing to do when you don’t know exactly where they are and you have to be quick because one likes to take a flying leap. That would be a literal expression if he didn’t weigh a ton. So, I finally manage to improvize my way through that, to find out he doesn’t much care for the rain. Of course, I didn’t know about *that* until my second attempt. So, while I thought he did his thing the first time, turns out I was dead wrong.. he decided to come in here and do it. Lucky for me and my brother I caught him, and we took another little walk… this is when I discovered he doesn’t much care for the rain. In fact, he downright despises it. Well, after wrestling with that for 10 minutes and getting soaked, while still not entirely sure he actually *did* anything, I finally got fed up with it and marched him right the hell downstairs. They bought that damn dog, they can mind that damn dog. If they don’t choose to, all they need do is say so and I’ll find that damn dog someone who will. He’s cute, and I don’t *usually* mind watching him, but this morning was absolutely rediculous. Rediculous in the sense that I’m up at 6 taking care of *their* dog while the two of them get to sleep in until one of them has to take a piss. Nuh uh. Welcome to the life of a dog owner. Your dog has just become your responsibility. I’m on strike.

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