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“Yeah.”
“I don’t want dogs in my apartment.”
“It’s not your apartment,” I told him. “It’s my apartment.”
“It’s sort of mine.”
“Wrong, wrong, wrong. There’s no part of this apartment that’s yours.”
“Yeah, but I got rights. I’m living here.”
“You have no rights. And if you want to keep living here, you’ll take very good care of the dogs. And anyway, it’s only for a short time.”
Easy to understand why everyone wanted to kill him.
I drove to Walmart and went straight to the pet department. I got ten lightweight leashes, ten Chihuahua-size harnesses, a box of plastic poop bags, ten little chew toys, and a giant bag of dog food.
I hauled everything back to my apartment and let myself in. All ten dogs rushed at me, yapping and snarling. I opened the bag of dog food, threw some nuggets at them, and they snapped them up.
“Jeez,” Briggs said, “I thought you’d never show up. These dogs are creeping me out. They keep shivering and looking at me with big bugged-out eyes.”
“It’s a Chihuahua thing,” I told him. “They’re excitable.”
“Yeah, me too. I’m excited you’re here to take them away.”
“Turns out they’re not going away today. I can’t get their owner bailed out until Monday.” Maybe never.
“Are you shitting me? What am I supposed to do with them?”
I dumped the dog stuff on my kitchen counter. “First thing we have to do is take them for a walk, so help me hook them up.”
So much for the free-running minion experience.
By the time we got the dogs out of the elevator they were hopelessly tangled. I had three leashes in each hand, and Briggs had two in each hand.
“These are the dumbest dogs ever,” Briggs said. “It’s like they never walked on a leash before.”
“You might want to walk them two at a time after this,” I said.
“It’ll take me all day. And I’ll be a sitting duck out here.”
“I’ll give you a break on the rent.”
“I’m not paying any rent.”
“Exactly.”
We walked them around the block, and they all peed and two out of ten pooped.
“How often do I have to do this?” Briggs asked.
“Four times a day. They don’t have to always go for long walks. They just need a chance to piddle.”
We dragged the dogs up the stairs, and I set out bowls of water for them and gave them a quilt to use as a bed.
“I need a television,” Briggs said. “There’s nothing to do here.”
