My name is Sam, I’m 31, and I work for a small marketing company in Austin, Texas. About a month ago my boss mentioned that he needed someone to watch his dog for a weekend while he went out of town.
The dog in question is a very energetic goldendoodle named Sunny.
During a casual Friday afternoon conversation at the office, my boss mentioned he was struggling to find someone to watch Sunny while he attended a wedding in another state.
Without really thinking it through, I said something like:
“Oh, I can watch him for the weekend if you want.”
In my mind, this seemed like a nice, simple favor.
Pick up the dog Friday.
Return the dog Sunday.
Two days of dog company and then life goes back to normal.
My boss was extremely grateful and dropped Sunny off at my apartment that evening with a giant bag of dog food, a leash, and several toys that squeak at a volume I did not realize was physically possible.
The first weekend actually went great.
Sunny is friendly, playful, and surprisingly well-behaved. We went on walks around my neighborhood, and he spent most of the evenings happily sleeping next to the couch.
Sunday evening rolled around, and my boss texted saying his return flight had been delayed.
“No problem,” I replied. “Just pick him up tomorrow.”
Monday came and went.
Then Tuesday.
Eventually my boss texted again saying his trip had unexpectedly turned into a longer work situation.
He apologized and said he’d pick Sunny up “soon.”
Now here’s where my original mistake became clear.
I never asked for a specific return date.
Fast forward three weeks.
Sunny is still living in my apartment.
At this point I’ve bought extra dog food, learned the exact time he expects his morning walk, and rearranged my living room to accommodate his growing collection of squeaky toys.
My neighbors now assume I’ve adopted him.
Meanwhile my boss occasionally sends messages like:
“Hope Sunny’s behaving!”
Or:
“He loves morning walks!”
Which I now know very well.
To be fair, Sunny is a great dog.
But what started as a two-day favor has quietly turned into a temporary dog ownership experience.
The most awkward part is that I see my boss every day at work.
We talk about projects, meetings, deadlines…
…and occasionally his dog that still lives in my apartment.
At this point I’m trying to figure out the most polite way to ask when the “weekend dog-sitting” arrangement is officially ending.
Because if this goes on much longer, Sunny might start thinking I’m his permanent human.
And honestly, I’m not sure my apartment lease includes provisions for surprise goldendoodle residency.
