Weekend at Bailey's

This past weekend was my sister's bridal shower party, which meant a day full of festivities for my whole family. My personal job was, probably, of the upmost importance. Since my cousin is the Maid of Honor and lives in the city, I had the high-pressure and incredibly important job of watching her dog, Bailey, for the weekend! I knew I couldn't let her down and was going to give Bailey the time of her life! I prepared myself for our Weekend at Bailey's.

Although I could imagine a great weekend with the best dog in the world, there was one issue: I've never had a dog. Right now, we only have a fish at home called Goose (named after the great US Navy pilot from Top Gun. RIP, Goose).  However, I stayed over my cousin's apartment for most of the past summer, so I was able to get to know the tan pup like she was my own dog. But taking Bailey for the occasional walk is a lot different than feeding her and making sure nothing happens to her, or my cousin would kill me. Without a doubt. I'd most likely just go down with the dog to keep my cousin from running into legal issues with my murder. Family has to look out for each other, you know. 

So this weekend, I took to the lesson plans and learned 2 important facts about taking care of a dog. 

I first found that Bailey is actually a great wingman. It was almost like she knew who all the pretty girls were. I'd notice her prance more. Maybe shake her booty a bit. It was as if she was performing her own Shakespearean soliloquy in front of a sold out crowd in a Roman amphitheater. After a while, I picked up what Bailey was doing, as she is like kryptonite to the typically focused New Yorkers. The pretty gals reacted as if they just saw the Hemsworth brothers, Adele, and Justin Timberlake all thrown into a 2 foot canine. I felt like Ben from The Bachelor on opening night with limo after limo of girls pulling up to come and strike a conversation. "She's so cute! What kind of dog is she?!" They'd ask. "She's a rescue, so we're not really sure." I'd respond while making eye contact with Bailey, and she'd give a wink followed by a head nod, meaning, "I know. I am great. But this will be returned with a treat AND a belly rub." A tough negotiator she is. I could tell my cousin taught her well. The only problem was Bailey couldn't also do the talking for me. So before long, she just gave up on me.

The second important lesson is you should always keep the leash on. Always. Yes, even when you're back in your apartment building. I know what you're probably thinking right now, "Oh crap, Bailey turned on the after burners, beat it, and he's about to get 'taken out' by his cousin." Not to worry! She didn't get sick of being my wingdog and take off faster than the roadrunner soaring through the desert. Yet, I did almost die. Just not from my cousin's hands but from a heart attack.

Bailey and I decided to take advantage of the beautiful weather and go for a walk through the city. After taking a few steps outside, we both agreed that this was not going to be a short 1 block stroll. Instead, it was a 3 hour, 5 mile marathon all along the East River Promenade. Walking along the river brought us back to our summer days down the shore where she twirls through the sand and hides from the police, as dogs are not allowed on the beach after Memorial Day. Bailey and I were having the best day of our lives until we saw firetrucks on the sidewalk of our building. My first thought, "But I really have to pee," was followed by my quick panic of, "Uh oh, did I touch the oven and burn down the place?" But, as you know from my last post, that couldn't have happened since I just mastered the culinary art and also stay away from stoves.  

Luckily for both of us, the firetruck was only here to fix one of the elevators. Unlucky for us, we now had to take the stairs to the 11th floor. This is where I learned to always keep a dog on their leash. Even after our trek, Bailey was still pulling me to climb each step faster and faster, as if we were running the Empire State Building Stairs Race. So, I took off the leash to let her burn more energy. She'd run up to the next landing, turn to see if I was still there, and then keep on going. We made it to the 6th or 7th floor, and I was certain I was in the clear! Oh, how naive. I don't know what happened, but the next thing I noticed was Bailey flying back down the steps all the way to the lobby like the building was on fire. That meant I had to sprint after her and then walk all the way back up. With gumpy legs taking over, both Bailey and I passed out, bringing a close to a successful, and educational, Weekend at Bailey's.