I kicked my roommate’s dog out. Normally, I would call myself a bitch for doing that, but there’s more to the story. I’d be interested in hearing what more objective people have to say about this.
In June, I moved into a two-bedroom apartment, with hopes of finding a roommate quickly. For the record, I have a dog, a shephard mix, female, six years old at the time and sweet as pie.
The search for a roommate lasted longer than I thought it would.
Then one day in late July, this nice woman about my age came to look at the place with her friend. She mentioned to me that she had a dog, a maltese who was at her parent’s house but who she wanted to have come live with her.
I had advertised for no other dogs, unsure of how crowded the apartment would be. But since maltese dogs are rather small, I thought I’d take a chance. I asked her if her dog was good. She assured me that her dog was very good.
The first month goes by, the dog shits on every rug in the place, pisses on them too. She also barks at me every time I enter the aprtment, and every time I even get up in the morning. “Its OK,” I tell myself, “she’s just adjusting.”
Second month, same shit. Plus while dog-sitting, the dog bites me. HARD. Blood and everything. I tell my roommate upon her return that I will not dog-sit for her again. But still, I think, “She’s just upset because her master was gone.”
But by now, I am suspecting that a fast one has been pulled on me.
Month three, the dog is still pissing and shitting in the house, only now she does it exclusively in my bedroom. My roommate does not seem to care when this happens. I insist she has the carpets cleaned. She does so. One day my friends come over, bringing their one-year old daughter. The maltese goes nuts! She literally wants to kill the child. So my roommate holds her in her lap, barking and struggling and nipping and baring her teeth at a one-year-old! Since she doesn’t put the dog in her room, my friends become uncomfortable and leave.
Early one Sunday morning, I am slightly hung over and sleeping in. At around 9 AM the landlord stops by to look at something. The dog starts barking and does not stop until I get up and ask my roommate to put the dog in her room and close the door. She says it won’t help, but then does so anyway. The barking stops in about two minutes.
Early December. The dog pisses in my room again. It’s 11 pm, and my roommate has gone to bed. I am so angry that I get her up to show her. She says “Oh” and goes back to bed, leaving me to clean it up. That night I lay awake, listening to my heart have palpitations. I decide that this must stop.
So I leave her a note explaining that I think she should consider taking the dog back to live at her parents house, that I can see no solution for the myriad of problems her dog has created.
She flips out. Totally freaks. She shouts at me not to worry, that the dog is going in three weeks, when she goes to visit her parents for Christmas. She acts like I gave her an ultimatum, which I never did. I point this out, she doesn’t reply.
Over the next three weeks, I begin to feel bad. If anyone told me I had to get rid of my dog I know what I’d tell them. I feel sorry for her. I begin to think that maybe there’s something we can do, like get pee-pee pads, etc. But then I think, I never saw one iota of effort from this girl regarding this situation. If she wants to work with me, let her come to me and say something. She never does, and come Christmas, the dog is gone.
It is peaceful now. I am much much happier with that horrible creature gone. My roommmate however, can barely look me in the eye or speak to me.
So, am I a bitch? Or was I right in letting the dog go?
