The main reason “Diary of a Poodle Au Pair” is A Memoir I’ll Never Write aside from the embarrassment of publicly admitting to a self-inflicted servile existence as a canine valet/cook/housekeeper/ball-thrower and chauffeur is because the diary entries I write about my two giant poodles are insanely brief (“WTF?!?”) and mind-numbingly repetitive. I also don’t pen many poodle au pair entries for fear it could be grounds for my evil lawyer brothers to declare me non compos mentis (translated: having lost possession of one’s mind/reason), seize my property and send me away. (Not that I haven’t considered the benefits of a padded room sans the non-stop antics of two ceaselessly charming but persistent giant poodles). Fact is I love my dogs and my older brothers can be nice when they wanna be. It just that compared to the Diary of Anne Frank, Diary of a Poodle Au Pair seems a little shallow ... but it’s kinda funny and we need all the humor we can get living in Trumpian Times. Yesterday’s Sample Diary Entry “Another day ruled over by my two funny giant poodles (Oscar, 10 years/62 pounds; Sasha, 9-years/74 pounds) who refuse to play with one another other and insist I act as camp counsellor and instigate a daily series of mini-olympic games designed for their amusement and athletic prowess. Until the games begin (usually late afternoon), they stare forlornly at me as I work at my writing desk ... miffed as to why I would choose to gaze upon an electronic screen instead of them ....” Oscar is sweet, brainy and black with increasing grey curls and one cloudy eye, Sasha, a royal standard poodle (the biggest of the breed), has the stamina of a Clydesdale horse and the voluptuous beauty of a Botticelli (who happens to eat tennis balls for breakfast). They’re both graceful, engagingly funny creatures so I said “sure” when they offered me the rather low-paying position as their private au pair. Moral? NEVER get TWO big smart dogs unless there are 2, 3 or 4 big strong dog-loving humans in your household. I got two dogs because being single I wrongly assumed it would be easier on me because they’d entertain each other and leave me more often in peace. NEVER happened! Having two highly-intelligent big dogs means the manipulation, charm, persistence and pleading is multiplied to the 10th power. Instead of two playful dogs I live with a pair of Uri Geller canines staring me down and shadowing me all day until I finally break and agree to do whatever it is they’d like me to do as soon as I finish whatever it was I was wasting my time on! I’d tell you more but right at this moment they’re butting my wrists to get me to stop typing. In a few minutes I’ll give in, and we’ll go to the park to chase balls, dig holes, roll in the grass, shred sticks, leap fences, chase squirrels, attack cats, bark at strangers, terrify babies in strollers, run after coyotes, whatever. When we get home I’ll probably sauté some beef liver (for me and them, of course) mix chunks of liver in their kibble, drizzle olive oil and a handful of shredded cheddar before announcing “Dinner!” ... yearning for the day someone makes me liver and bacon. Later a few biscuits, and a quick walk before midnight and bed. Ok I love them but I have one question: where’s the check? I remember the Help Wanted Ad in the Standard Poodle E-Gazette said the poodle au pair position was paid .... I certainly would never have volunteered for the job. I’m too smart for that! Readers: Do you have a duo of dogs ruling your life? Share the madness in comments below! I’m listening ...
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