“He rocks in the tree tops all day long, hoppin’ and a-boppin’ and singing his song”

July 2, 2012 § 1 Comment

Boyfriend and I are currently dog-sitting a 60 lb. pit mix named Manny, which I thought would be an excellent trial run to prove to Boyfriend that I am perfectly capable of taking care of a dog, despite his feverish insistence otherwise. Manny is a super lovable rescue, and 90% of the time, the ideal dog to sit for: he doesn’t drool, doesn’t chew shit up, has no problem doing his own thing, and most importantly, has excellent control of his bowels and bladder. The only thing that prevents Manny from scoring a perfect 100% is the fact that he’s a huge dog, and when he knows he’s going to the park, tends to walk you rather than you walking him. I’m sure it’s been really comical to those who witnessed a tiny Asian girl hanging on for dear life, with both hands on the leash as this monster of a dog drags her along the street (this was almost me).

But again, that’s only when Manny knows we’re headed to the Sculpture Park. Otherwise, he’s totally great about his other walks around the block. It’s been funny to watch the reactions of other (smaller) dog owners – at first glance, Manny is very intimidating, with his hilariously large head and super muscular body (Boyfriend says he’s the Hulk of dogs) – so when other dog owners see him, they tend to scoop up their own pets and scurry along the opposite direction. He’s admirably gentle around smaller dogs, even when they yap at him. He ignores them for the most part, as if to say bitch, please, I could finish you. He’s by no means a passive dog, as I’ve witnessed firsthand what happens when he sees a larger dog (or shady Belltown characters at night) that he doesn’t like (I had to prop myself up against a parking meter post to hold Manny back). He’s swallowed a tennis ball whole and once, to declare his alpha status,straight up peed on a German Shepard.

Needless to say, I’m surprised how quickly I’ve fallen in love with this dog. And though I won’t miss chasing after his rolling turds down a hill (and I don’t want to be crass, but they are huuuuuuuuuuge turds), I will miss everything else about him when he and his owners move to Boston later this month. I’m not sure if I’ve persuaded the Boyfriend from his original assumption, but turns out, watching Manny has influenced my views on dogs instead. My heart breaks just a little bit each time I run errands and have to leave Manny alone, watching his ears drop as I close the door behind me. He’s previously had surgery on a torn ACL, which causes me to worry my brains out when he temporarily limps after a particularly rigorous session of catch. Two weeks of watching Manny has turned me into an emotional goober (and I seriously cannot stop with the baby talk), so I worry what might happen if I were to become responsible for a dog indefinitely.

Anyway.

This past weekend, Boyfriend and I checked out Ted at a theater neither of us knew existed, despite the fact that it’s located just two blocks away and has existed for over a decade. It’s underneath El Gaucho and seats like maybe 30-40 tops, so it’s small and intimate (which I actually liked, even though Boyfriend didn’t)It also has a full bar and delivers drinks to you at your seat, so I was pretty amused by the couple sitting in front of us as they sipped Moët during a scene in which a stuffed bear simulated fellatio on a candy bar.

My sister will be flying in this weekend, which means I’ll be trying really hard to keep myself preoccupied with anything and everything until her arrival. I’m looking forward to having frozen yogurt twice a day, getting mocked over my age, and learning about all the new pop songs on the radio – I had no idea that YOLO was derived from a song, did you? Eh, doesn’t make it any less stupid.

PS. If you’re in town, check out Philanthro Seattle’s First Tuesday Happy Hour tomorrow evening from 6-9 at Spitfire in Belltown. We’re doing a series of events with Ronald McDonald House Charities for the month of July.

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