Trigger

I have roommate issues. To put it mildly. My last one moved out at the end of August and I spent that month and the next trying to find someone to take the room. I finally found a guy who needed a place just for a month. And thank god. Because it’s only halfway through the month and it’s been a trial already. He has this dog. Trigger. I’m not sure what kind he is. He looks like a pitbull or something. Super sweet, still just a puppy, but he’s huge. Which means he eats huge and shits huge. When my roommate is gone, he keeps the dog in his room. If I’m home first, I let him out when I let Walter out. Three times now I have either noticed the puddle, or actually seen this fucker lift his leg inside the house and pee on something. Once on my suitcase, once on a coat hanging on the back of a chair, and once on a bag. When he’s outside, he pees on everything. The bbq, the planters, the fountain, even Walter. So one day last week, I get home from work and as soon as I get into the house, actually, the porch. I hadn’t even made it into the house yet. There was a smell. A gross smell. I unlocked the door to the house and it got worse. I started sleuthing around to see where it was coming from and in doing so, opened the door to my roommate’s bedroom. BAM! It was like a wall of shit smell hit me. Trigger came bounding out, because he’s high energy and never does anything slowly. I look behind him and there was shit EVERYWHERE! On the floor, on the bed, on the laundry, on his pillow. And the smell. Oh.my.god. The smell. I slammed the door shut, let the dogs out, and immediately lit every candle I own and sprayed air freshener all around the bedroom door, and texted my roommate about the gift he had waiting for him.

So that was fine, accidents happen. Even gross ones. The roommate tells me he’s going to be gone to Edmonton to visit his sick grandmother for the weekend. I am looking forward to having the house to myself, since I decided not to go out to the farm. Friday rolls around and the roommate texts me around 5 to see if anyone came to pick up his dog. Ummm…no. Was someone supposed to? We hadn’t discussed my weekend plans or if I was going to be around, and he didn’t ask. And he didn’t warn me that someone would be coming to get his dog. How exactly was this friend going to pick up Trigger if I hadn’t been here and the door had been locked? He ended up asking me to let Trigger out and feed him. Which I did. But he didn’t ask anything else, like, was it ok if I watched him Friday night, or was I even going to be around. Saturday morning, he texts saying a different friend was going to pick Trigger up. Great. So I’m waiting and waiting, and I look outside a couple times and there is a vehicle sitting outside the house, but no one ever gets out and the doorbell doesn’t ring. He texts me and says his friend came to the door and knocked, but I didn’t answer so she left. I was like, is she a time traveller who doesn’t know what a fucking doorbell is? When someone only knocks on the door, I don’t usually hear it. I have a door to the front porch, and another door inside after that. I understand there’s no way she could know that, but I do expect her to know about doorbells. So I tell him to tell her I’m still at home, I will be all day and I’ll leave the doors unlocked so if I’m outside or in the bath or just don’t hear her, she can just come on in. He says he’ll tell her. I go outside and rake some leaves and in doing so, realize this dog might actually have a problem. I have never seen this much dog shit in my entire life. It’s a weird colour and there’s just so much of it! I raked half the yard and decided the roommate needs to pick up after his dog before I continue on. 5pm rolls around and she still hasn’t shown up and I haven’t heard from my roommate so I text him again. He texts back saying she did come back, but she didn’t want to just walk in. I call bullshit. I don’t think this bitch ever came back again. And what is she afraid of? Just walk into the fucking house! You’re there to do something ,then do it! And again, that’s the last time I hear from my roommate that night. So I babysit his dog again.

Sunday rolls around, and I’m considering going to Saskatoon with a friend for the night. So I text the roommate to tell him this. He says he’s going to try his friend again. She’s not responding to his calls. Super. He says he’ll come home that night. I decide not to go anywhere so I tell him it’s fine, I will continue watching his dog. And then I tell him my newest discovery, which is that he not only takes giant shits, he runs through them and then tracks shitty footprints into the house. I go out and get drunk and come home and guess what I find? Yep, another shit filled bedroom. I don’t remember much from last night, but I do remember trying not to throw up for reasons that had nothing to do with alcohol.

Oh, Trigger also jumped the fence on Saturday and I finally found him across the street down the back alley. And then he jumped the fence again last night. While I was drunk. Thankfully I noticed before he even got out of the yard and came right back. The cat is constantly in hiding. All of Walter’s toys have been destroyed. I talk more harshly to this dog than I care to because he’s just so fucking annoying and it’s not his fault. My roommate came home 4 hours later than he told me he would today and then was home just long enough to have an argument with his girlfriend, clean up his room, have a quick bath, and then leave again. So this puppy who needs a tremendous amount of attention and exercise is alone in a room, waiting for his dad to get home and love him. I was away for a few hours and let him out for awhile when I got home, but I put him to bed so the cat could come out and eat and have a cuddle with me and so I could have some quiet moments without constantly saying things like, “Trigger!”, “Get out of there!”, “That’s not yours!”, “No!”, “Leave the cat alone!”, “Don’t pee on that!” Just under 3 weeks to go. 3 long, long weeks.

I don’t think I’ve ever written this much about shit before.

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One thought on “Trigger

  1. Poor puppy! And poor you. It’s a good thing you didn’t come visit after all who knows what shit filled messes you would have come back to.

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