Sharing and Caring

Sarie is visiting for the holidays. She is trying to convince me to move from Deacon's apartment, and live with Tina, who is looking for a roommate. Tina has an apartment in midtown NY...she also has an ENORMOUS dog. I like dogs but this one is too big. The story is that many years ago, Tina went to buy a puppy -- a chihuahua, actually.

However, once she locked eyes with this other cute puppy, she was hooked. It turned out that said cute, little, puppy grew up to be an ENGLISH MASTIFF. It's huge and it's mouth spews out streams of slobber, just like Fang in the Harry Potter movies. As a matter of fact, Tina has baskets of rags throughout the apartment. She calls them slobber rags and uses them to clean whatever the dog soiled with his mouth...furniture...people. Lovely.

SARIE: Don't worry about the dog; he doesn't slobber all the time.
ALICE: Oh? It sure looks like it.
SARIE: No. It will be fine, you'll see.
ALICE: Another thing. When I went to visit them, the apartment smelled of...dog, too much dog.
SARIE: Pshaw. That was because Tina hadn't been cleaning in a while.
ALICE: What? So you think I would enjoy being with a roommate who doesn't clean?
SARIE: Don't judge. She hasn't been cleaning because she's depressed.
ALICE: What? So you think I would enjoy being with a roommate who doesn't clean her dog's slobber AND is depressed? Why would that be a good situation for me?
SARIE: Well, she thinks you're fun and wants to hang out with you. It's not all bad. I mean she likes to go out and oh yes, she would sit around at night with you sharing a bottle of wine. That would be cool, no?

Well, I guess I've had worse offers, so I am considering it. But then, an image comes to mind of me -- being an excellent roommate -- walking the dog AND using a big ole garden shovel to scoop the poop.

Now a chihuahua! THAT would have been a no brainer.