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TIFU by leaving the dog i was dog sitting for 17 hours

So this wasn't on purpose, I swear.

I agreed to dog-sit for some super close family friends while they were out of town for the week. Enter: Peter (not his real name, but it fits). Peter is possibly the most high-maintenance dog I've ever met. He has to sleep in bed with a human, or he won’t sleep. He has his own room—because if you leave him unsupervised in the house while you’re gone, he will wreck everything. He requires constant attention. If you're not petting him, he’ll nose you until you give in. And if you do pet him, you better not stop, or he starts the whole thing again.

Also? He’s not really potty trained. He knows to go outside—he just doesn’t always feel like it.

To make matters worse, I'm apparently highly allergic to something in their house. Every night I spent there, I had coughing fits, sneezing fits, couldn’t breathe properly, and was knocking back Benadryl like Tic Tacs. But I stuck it out because I love this family. They didn’t have another option. And here’s the kicker: I’m not even getting paid. This was purely an act of love (and probably poor judgment).

After a long week of dying slowly and begging Peter to please sleep without being spooned, I finally got a text from the mom yesterday:

“We will be home at midnight.“

I nearly cried. I packed my stuff, gave Peter dinner and a potty break, and finally went back to my house, with my dogs, and no airborne allergens. I went to bed proud of myself—I had survived Peter.

Then I woke up this morning around 10AM and noticed… no “thank you” text. No “we made it home” message. Weird. I checked her last message again:

“We will be home at midnight.” And that’s when I realized… she meant MIDNIGHT TONIGHT. Not last night. Not the midnight I thought meant “they’ll be home early Friday morning.”

I had left Peter locked in his room… for 17 hours.

I bolted over to their house, fully expecting a scene from a horror movie.

Peter? Still alive. But not happy. He had shed what looked like a whole second dog from stress. He had peed. He had pooped. The room was… not okay. But thankfully, he was.

I cleaned everything up like a maniac, got him outside, gave him a treat, and prayed that the family never asks why the Febreze is half empty.

So yeah. TIFU by misunderstanding a text, abandoning a stage-five clinger dog for 17 hours, and proving that I will apparently suffer for free out of loyalty.

Moral of the story: Clarify which midnight people mean. And maybe get a pet-sitting contract next time.

TL;DR: Agreed to dog-sit the world’s most high-maintenance dog for free. Slept at his house all week despite major allergy attacks. Thought the family was returning at midnight last night—they meant tonight. Accidentally left the dog locked in his room for 17 hours. He’s fine, but the room looked like a crime scene. I cleaned it up just in time.

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