Dog Sitting

Being from Cincinnati, when I get to come home for the weekend and visit from Cleveland, I usually love the first 3 steps I take into my childhood house.  Those first three steps are the best.  You get to relive all the countless times you have walked through that door before, and all the things associated with it.  The familiar smells; the native appearance and structure of the house, adjusted ever so slightly to accommodate the decorations of the season.  Those first steps are likes steps into a time capsule that has preserved everything from your childhood.

How, this weekend, when I went home for Easter, in those first few steps I was greeted by something I did not expect.  That thing was called “Chewy”.

Named (not so cleverly) for its resemblance to a certain George Lucas character who hails from the planet Kashyyyk, Chewy is the latest of my parents LONG list of four-legged house guests.  And as I took those oh-so-sacred first few steps into my home Friday evening, I found myself face to face with the beast which would become - over the next 48 hours - the bane of my existence.

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