I dog-sat for a stripper named Jessica. Her pup was called Sadie and was maybe my least favorite dog in history. This is coming from someone who as a child (just ask my parents) would approach and pet the most disgustingly flea-ridden, one-eyed strays without hesitation. I'd run up to snarling dobermans and rabid-looking street dogs in Greece and try to hug them. At age 8, I practiced my piano every day for a year to get my doggy Rosie.
I. Love. Dogs. And I fuckin hated this one.
The thing weighed 5 pounds and would yap and sprint about the apartment hyperactively if I ever even reached for my purse or (God forbid!) put on my shoes. She couldn't sleep alone and would batter the door of our laundry room if I tried to make her sleep in her doggy bed. The one charm she offered was her puppy-pad training, which, frankly, did not impress. And I was instructed to microwave her food and only serve bottled water. If I hadn't been paid $150 for 5 days of work I might have quit. As it was, I was happy (nay, elated) to see her go. See picture below. Deceptively cute, no?
