The Maid & The Mutiny

So I've been abandoned by my maid. This is not something I want to get into here, suffice to say that it leaves me remembering why I have no grandiose ideas about being a domestic goddess.

Part of the reason I paid her to work for me twice a week was to keep the dogs company. Yes, I know you're wondering WTF? I'm what you'd call A Good Dog Mom. The desire to meet my canine's needs - lest they look like neglected, homeless waifs - has nearly left me bankrupt.

This is the same reason I bought the dogs a really expensive kennel, a solid (it needs 4 mean to pick it up), waterproof, cute-as-hell dog house. Needless to say, the ungrateful little thugs don't appear to actually SLEEP in their snug li'l hut. One of our (many) former homes included a treeless garden, with no shelter for the dogs, unless they stayed in the house - hence this exorbitant purchase.

The treeless garden was situated on an idyllic farm, south of Joburg. With riders milling about the stables, I was able to leave the door of the house open for the dogs, so they could decide if they wanted to be in or out. All this really meant was that it allowed Jo to decide, at his leisure, what he'd like to shred in my absence; he'd promptly chew it in the garden, in full view of the liveries on their way to the arena.

On one such occasion, I was away from home for the day, it was the middle of June, and raining. So, to assuage my guilt, I left the door open and off I went. Only to receive a phone call a few hours later from my friendly landlady, telling me that Jo (who else!) was carry carrots, by the mouthful, out into the garden to eat. In the rain! Once he'd eaten through the 5kg bag on the kitchen floor, he'd started on the toilet paper, at which point my phone rang.

So that's why I bought the world's heaviest kennel, to make me feel better. And that's why I sit at work now, and worry that the dogs are home, and bored. Especially since I banned all stuffed toys and bedding between the weekday hours of 8am-5pm. They were really into the special effects and it didn't bother them that we didn't get any snow in our suburb earlier this winter. Why? You might ask. Because they made their OWN! That's right. They shredded their bedding and spread it across the lawn, and not for the first time either.

Now they're just average suburban dogs, barking their heads off at any drive-by entertainment which passes their gate. That is until I get home, when they can watch my kak-handed attempt to clean the kitchen floor. Staring forlornly through the bars of the security gate, taking in my manic attempts to emulate the serene, smiling, floor-cleaning-women in those annoying tv ads; who looks smug and satisfied with her gleaming handiwork.

Pity I didn't think of putting the dogs inside BEFORE I swilled down the decks...