Why am I doing this to myself? I said I would get off Facebook and here I go. . .
I read another post.
Oh my god! What’s that? A nurse in Kansas died. No!
I drowned in sadness.
Rest in peace. . .nurse. . .wait. What’s her name? Sylvia. Rest in peace, Sylvia.
My eyes watered. I shut off my phone.
Stop it. You didn’t even know her. Relax.
Feeling helpless and alone, I looked at the television screen.
You’re not by yourself. You’ve got a fur baby here. Things could be worse.
I gazed down at my best friend’s dog. She’d named him Ganesha, after a Hindu god with an elephant head. The god of beginnings. The remover of obstacles. The patron of arts and sciences. I liked to think furry Ganesha did his best to live up to the name. He was a Yorkshire Terrier—seven pounds of silky black and gold hair.
“The state is on lockdown, buddy.” I gazed down at him. “What are we going to do?”
Sleeping, Ganesha lounged under my feet, warming my toes and snuggling next to his favorite toy, Bebe. Surprisingly, Bebe was a pink stuffed kitten that he could not live without.
Zora bought Ganesha three years ago and had remained next to him 24-7. Pretending he was a service dog, she took him to work, inside the grocery store, at restaurants, and even in the movies. This week served as the first time Zora and Ganesha were separated. And it was only because Corey demanded that her fur-baby not be brought onto their honeymoon in the Maldives.
I volunteered to watch her baby for two weeks. Dog sitting hadn’t been a big deal. Although Zora’s one-bedroom apartment was small, it exuded luxury and had a balcony. She lived on the fourth floor. Zora worked as a Production Assistant for CNN. She had a decent salary and always stayed up on fashion. Therefore, her apartment resided in the place to be in NYC. It was located in Brooklyn and close to great restaurants. Trendy professionals—most in their 30s—headed back and forth, holding their lattes and yapping into their phones.
Zora should have been an interior designer. Her apartment boasted a stylish minimalist look with light eco accents such as wood, white marble, and soft textile. It was cozy and chic.
The living room opened onto a balcony, so it got a fair amount of sunlight. The kitchen made clever use of limited space with well-placed cabinets. The stone countertops and backsplash were classy, and the appliances were high-end. There wasn’t much room for a dining area. A small space held a two-person table a few feet from the couch. In the hallway, there was a small space with an in-unit washer and dryer.
She gave me the name and number of the building’s part-time super, just in case anything broke or clogged.
The bedroom was my favorite. I could also access the balcony from the bedroom, and it had a large closet, not that I brought many clothes. The adjacent bathroom held a tub with air jets which was great for easing down in a bubble bath with a good book and glass of wine. I’d done that last night, trying to get the stress of the coronavirus out of my head.
Zora provided a week metro pass and a map that showed I was barely three blocks from the F, G, and R trains at Fourth Avenue and Ninth Street. Unfortunately, due to the coronavirus craze, I didn’t visit any art museums and check out the NYC landmarks like the Statue of Liberty or Times Square. Now wasn’t the time to be a tourist. To get some sun, I read on the balcony.
Unlike me, Zora was organized and all-business. I liked being carefree and artsy. She relished in schedules. She’d left an exorbitant amount of instructions for Ganesha. The fur baby didn’t eat typical store brand dog food. She’d done meal prep. Several tiny containers held chopped goose and duck, lamb, and beef. Honestly, I had to admit that he ate better than me. And before giving Ganesha his food in a crystal bowl that had his name written in gold, I was to drizzle a little flaxseed oil on top so he could get his omega-3 fatty acids.
His toy, Bebe, was to be washed with hypoallergenic soap and left in a tub of cold water for an hour soaking on Sunday evening. On Monday morning, Ganesha jogged with his bestie Elizabeth—a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel that was owned by a guy named Oliver.
Between Tuesday and Friday, Ganesha met with his crew at 6 p.m. in the park. Zora drew a map to Prospect Park which was four long blocks away from the apartment. There, Ganesha hung out with his friends—a labradoodle named Spencer, a Bichon Frise called Madonna, and his bestie Elizabeth.
At least the dog sitting is keeping me busy.