Diary of a Dog-Sitter — Day Six

The Art of Multi-Tasking

Why ever did I think I could do it? Multitask. I mean, I’m a bloke, for heaven’s sake, and it’s a well-known fact that we men can’t multitask.

I thought I was being clever. (More proof if ever any were needed that I’m a man.) My phone pinged. So, naturally, I rummaged in my trouser pocket and retrieved my smartphone. A friend text me, while I was out walking Betsy.

How’s the dog-sitting going?

Picture the scene: dog lead tightly gripped in one hand, smartphone and poo bag gripped in the other. There’s no way I can thumb-type a response. (I’m a bloke, remember.)

Then, suddenly, an idea. I literally heard it ping. (Actually, it was another text.)

Has Betsy got your wrapped around her little paw yet?

I might not be able to type, but I can dictate. While negotiating a stile (and the kerfuffle that involves of switching hands with everything, because Betsy sneaks underneath them, and so I have to let go of the lead handle briefly and catch it again the other side), I press the microphone button on my phone, and start talking.

“Really well! And no, she hasn’t got me …

My train of thought was interrupted by something. Betsy had stopped moving. The lead had gone slack. I turned to see her standing over a pile of horse muck. Chewing. Eeuurrgghh!

“Drop it! Drop it, now, you dirty dog! Spit it out now, you disgusting girl. Come here, and do as you’re told!”

The next thing I know, my thumb touches my phone screen, and I hear the whoosh of the text reply being sent.

Moments later, while I’m trying to hold Betsy’s jaws open with both hands and inspect the masticated contents of her mouth, another ping.

I wag my finger in front of Betsy’s nose. “Don’t do that again.”

Then I read the message on my phone.

It’s a good job I know you’re walking Betsy, otherwise I could have taken offence at your text 🤣

I frowned, then looked at my reply. OMG! The text message had included my spoken chastisement of Betsy! I hit the reply button, and began dictating my response …

“Oops. Sorry! I’m dictating while I walk and … no, Betsy, leave the squirrel alone. Come here! This way! Now what are you doing? Oh heck! Another poo? Do you have to do it there, on the entrance to that person’s driveway … while the owner is looking out of her window, watching?”

Too embarrassed to finish what I was doing, I slipped my phone into my pocket and sorted out another poo bag to clear up the mess.

Once I’d picked everything up … well, everything that was solid enough to be picked up, I smiled at the house-owner watching through her window and hurried along the road.

Once I’d sorted the collection of poo bags out, I heard another ping.

You’re having a great walk, aren’t you? 🤣

Suffice to say, I didn’t bother replying until we got back to the house, and I had fed Betsy.

One thing at a time, Simon. One thing at a time.

Read Day Seven’s Entry here:

https://readmedium.com/diary-of-a-dog-sitter-day-seven-e8f098608419

Read yesterday’s diary entry here: