Who let the dogs out? Pregnant me, that’s who.
I’ve written about this before, but was forced to rethink the story. Why? We went over to this particular friend’s house for dinner in January and I noticed the dog door–as in really looked at it and the logistics. I took some less than stellar pics as an afterthought. You can see them below to get a better grasp at the dimensions. For reference, I’m 5’6″ and I was very flexible. When I was seven months pregnant I had to crawl through that dog door to get into their house. Fortunately, they had a range of dogs and the top range was on the larger size. I would have to…
Crawling Through the Doggie Door
When I was pregnant with our oldest, back in 2003, I was a pinch-hitter for N’s dog sitter. The dog sitter just started a day job, and N wanted me to come in the middle of the day to check in on her pack. And we’re talking pack–there were five dogs ranging from a geriatric Great Dane mix to a pair of Beagles. She dropped off the spare set of keys with me and off they went on vacation. I’ve been to her house plenty of times (Fort Knox, home-slice style), so I was well aware of the intricate order in which I had to gain entry. But I stood…
