My landlords are great. They are an early 30-something couple, who run a business from home, and who bought a kickass house in one of the coolest neighbourhoods in my town. And they rent the top floor of the house to me. So that makes them cooler. (Ha!)
Paul and Christie really are the best landlords that a girl could ask for. They are always around when you need them, but don't hassle me with silly stuff. When Paul is away on business, Christie calls up to see if we want to come down and have dinner with her, or she'll just show up at the door with plates of food. When Christie is away, Paul calls up for a beer. They scratch our back, we scratch theirs.
One of the things I love about them is their dog, Foley. He's a mix of I don't what all, but definitely jack russel. He's a hyper, hilarious, loving little guy. When Paul and Christie go away over night, we often take Foley upstairs and take care of him. Stuff him full of doggie treats and tire him out with too many belly rubs.
I got home from my soccer game yesterday to a message on our answering machine, of Paul asking if we could take Foley for the night, as he has to go to Toronto for the night. In my glee of spending some quality time with the dog, I didn't listen properly. Paul's SUV was not in the driveway, I assumed he had left already. So down I went and whisked away Foley.
We shared a lovely evening. I ate my Subway sub (mmmm....pizza subs are the best) in the backyard, and helped myself to a Blue Light from Paul's fridge (it felt like a safe trade to me, one beer for taking care of the dog). Then we went up to my apartment, watched tv and snuggled in the chair. I even changed my bedding to let him sleep in the bed with me (dear lord, I generally HATE having dogs on the furniture, and especially the bed) because that is what he is used to. Usually he sleeps with Erin in her bed because she doesn't mind, but she was supposed to be away for the night.
I got bored of TV and decided it was time to hit the hay and read my book. There I lay with Foley, all cozy. Someone's at the door. It's Erin. She made it home. Even she couldn't believe I had let the dog on my bed (see....that's how wrong I think it is....even my roomie said "Foley! You're not supposed to be on there!!). She came in and we made a fuss of the dog, and she told me her funny family stories of the day. And then we heard this thumping from downstairs. Lots of moving around, and even some yelling. I got freaked out, no one was supposed to be there!! But a quick look out the window, and there was Paul's SUV.
I called down to see what was going on, was he back for the night, or just popping in?
The message he left was for TOMORROW night. I stole his dog. (And his beer.) I freaked him right out~he thought he had locked the dog outside by accident, and that Foley had escaped from the backyard, and was never going to be seen again.
Poor Paul. Thought his dog was gone, when really, he was living it up with me upstairs. I think he suffered a mild panic attack.
But now I get to look after Foley tonight! Two nights of puppy love....really, it all worked out well. For me, anyways.