No, not the kind that involves actual babies. I call that torture. Yes, I know. I’m supposed to be genetically disposed to small helpless creatures. But…not so much. And I’ve passed that uneasiness with pale, pink squirming bundles of joy to my kid. Who says that when he has one, he’s giving it to me until it’s twelve. (My son is deluded, but I let him have his little fantasies. I figure the as-yet-unfound wife will actually want to have the baby around.)
The babysitting I’m talking about is the kind you have to do when your best friend’s mother moves to Florida and she has to leave the state for Christmas every year. For a week. When that happens, I’m in the dog house for about a week. That happens starting tomorrow.
This is Teasel. (I knitted his sweater.) He’s a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel and has to have his own pillow. But not JUST his own pillow. You have to scoot down in the bed so he can sleep on his pillow ABOVE your head and then slowly through the course of the night push you off your pillow and take them both over. He’s housebroken but he doesn’t like the outdoors much so you have to make him get off the deck to go do his manly business. For which he looks at you like you’ve just pulled all his toe nails out and called his momma a hussy.
He also likes something called “Teasel Time,” which is time set aside to cuddle in what we call the magic chair. (chair and a half so all the dogs can pile on) And he loves giving my 17 year old cat a little spit bath. The cat doesn’t mind.
And then there is Andy. Yet another Cavalier King Charles Spaniel. Andy spends most of the time in the kitchen waiting for someone to drop something…anything. He’s the perfect gentleman. Doesn’t whine. Doesn’t cry. Goes out whenever you ask him. And is probably smarter than most 9 year-olds. Which makes sneaking any kind of food impossible. The dog can hear the crunch of a cracker from 60 yards away.
And rounding out this year’s dog-a-thon, is Chime, who has almost finished her Championship. She’s not yet two years old. In Labrador years that’s still a puppy. She’s winning every time she steps in the ring so I have to be sure she doesn’t do anything stupid like break a leg, injure a paw. (There are shows in January!)
Sometimes I have to babysit covers too. We tried an outside graphic artist but had a little problem with the final art. The artist did some lovely mood lighting on the piece and some wonderfully moody color but the figures weren’t quite right. So we “babysat” it and did a little extra manipulation. Was it worth the effort?
Today we’re going to be giving away FOUR free books from the BelleBooks or Bell Bridge Books catalog.
So, tell me which is the cutest dog and which is the better elf-girl. Do you like the intense stark elf or the softer, more vulnerable elf?