The Honest Courtesan

My friend Sophie is very ill, so a little over a week ago she asked if I’d sit her dog Hallie.  Though Hallie is a great big bitch and has a few odd personality quirks, she is a frequent visitor to Sunset and mostly knows how to behave herself out here.  Also, Axel is her buddy and she generally follows his lead, so sometime after sunrise I let them out, then go back to bed and let them in again when I get up around 9.  They’re both older dogs (Axel is 10 and Hallie 11 or 12), so about three hours of running around in the dewy, dewy grass is generally sufficient exercise, and they mostly just lounge and nap the rest of the day.  Alas, it was different on the night of the 4th; though Trip prefers to spend 95% of his time outside, he is terribly afraid of fireworks, so as soon as they start he wants to be inside.  But even inside, he gets spooked when the noise peaks, so on Saturday night the only way to keep him from running around, knocking breakables over, was to invite him onto the couch where I could pet him while assuring him that Danger Man would protect us from the scary noises (in all seriousness, I think the TV sound helped drown out the pops, cracks, and booms).  Axel jumped up right beside him, which meant Hallie spent the next several hours in an elaborate dance: stand around looking forlorn until I tell her to lie down, then look at me as though she doesn’t understand until I point to the easy chair.  Then get in the chair; lie contentedly for about 15 minutes; get up to wander around aimlessly until I tell her to lie down; lie on the floor for about 10 minutes; get up again and wander around aimlessly a bit more; then go back to looking forlorn and start the cycle again.  Oh, well, it was only one night; the rest of the time, dogsitting is an easy way to help a friend, and barely even impacts my schedule.