A Wedding

I normally don't do weddings. I can count on one hand the number of weddings I've been to in my life, and that includes my own. But today we are attending a friend's daughter's wedding and I get to act as dog sitter.

The same dilemma I always face with such occasions I face today -- what to wear -- particularly because I must "manage" the large German shepard who lives at the house where the wedding will take place. To complicate things even more, it is overcast with rain in the forecast making for a rather miserable wedding event --finding dressy clothes that are both warm, waterproof, and resistant to dog hair.

This is Ben, the said wedding dog. It's difficult to gain a size perspective with this dog, but the top of his head is level with my hip bone and I'm 5' 9" tall. You do the math. He has long hair, which makes him look both formidable and gorgeous and underneath his guard dog exterior is a goof who is leary of dogs under 10 pounds. So leary that when walking past them he will cower behind my legs.

Still, Ben is a handful. In a few moments I will go to his house, pick him up, and then walk him home (about an hour walk) hoping to burn off some of his enormous energy reserve. Then I must shower and dress (in god knows what) for an outdoor wedding that may get rained on. Ben will stay at our house confined to his pen and then, after the "I dos" are spoken, I will race home to unpen him and let him get my dressy clothes all hairy.

Perhaps the most difficult part of the whole gig will be letting Ben stay at our house overnight. Where does such a big dog sleep? Anywhere he wants to, I suppose, but I dread a sleepless night as I know I'll keep an ear half-cocked for the sound of his large feet padding their way across the bamboo floors or the sound of his heavy breathing as he rests his head on my belly while I sleep.

No, he is not allowed on the bed though getting onto the bed is a matter of one step up for Ben and then it's queen-sized heaven for him since no one else would be able to fit into the bed once he's in it. Still, he will be able to look at me -- eye-level -- if he so chooses and having never been to our house, I fear he will worry about his whereabouts and the whereabouts of his own bed.

Rubin has met Ben on a number of occasions, but Ben has tended to ignore the puppy fearing both the 10-pound rule (though Rubin is now close to 30 pounds) and the fact that Rubin IS a puppy, full of puppy energy and a willingness to throw himself, head first, into Ben's body. Ben would much rather be with humans, especially humans with a tennis ball and this, too, will make for a curious night. Picture a large dog, a soggy tennis ball in his mouth, chomping its goo onto your bed at 3 in the morning.

Perhaps the wedding is the least of my worries and even my attire can be forgiven since I must woman-handle a long-haired monster before and after the "I dos."

This could be interesting. Stay tuned.