Puppy Protest!

 

Sometimes I get a dog that "puts on the brakes" during a walk - just plants their feet firmly on the pavement like a toddler refusing to leave the toy aisle! If they’re smaller dogs, no problem - I just pick them up, carry them a few feet, place them down and they're back in action like little wind-up toys.

The larger and heavier dogs...not so much! Some will stage a full-on protest like they’re fighting for better treat wages and longer cuddle breaks. They flat out refuse to do what's expected of them i.e. enjoying time outside, taking care of business, and checking out messages other dogs have left them. 

Some take it further by lying down and rolling over on their backs! There’s nothing I can do. It's a stalemate and a canine strike is imminent. All I can do is sit back down at the concrete negotiation table (or sidewalk), use belly rubs as a concession and hope they don't make me late for my next pet visit. Because seeing a bunch of dogs holding picket signs is not good for business.🐶

Al-CAT-traz!

Some cats are content with the comforts of home; sunny windowsills, a full bowl of food. Then there are the cats that plot their escape like they’re locked up in Alcatraz! One cat tried to bolt past me as I retrieved a package from outside. I grabbed his little fuzzy butt so fast I think he's still recovering from whiplash!

I'm always very careful when entering a home - one leg blocking the doorway as I enter slowly and carefully, always on high alert so as not to allow the cat a window of opportunity. It was my last visit for this one cat “Fluffy” who figured out my game after watching and learning my behavior all week long.   

On that last day she managed to slip past me! I quickly went after her. She stopped, sat down, turned around, and looked at me. I thought 'whew that was easy!' As I approached her slowly this little vamp quickly scaled the fence and walked along the edge towards the back and across on to the neighbor's backyard fence!

My inner Spider Man immediately kicked in and I was scaling that fence and gaining ground on that little sucker! There was no way I was gonna let this little fuzzy interloper ruin my track record of "zero losses.” Fluffy froze when she saw me coming. I was able to grab her and with one arm wrapped around her and one keeping me steady on the fence I managed to get her back inside. 

She gave me a hard ‘side-eye’ like I put her in solitary confinement. It wasn’t until after I left that I realized I had cuts and scrapes on my hands, arms and legs. And if you've never been 'side-eyed' by a cat, consider yourself lucky. It cuts deeper than a handmade shank by a feline convict.

 

License To Pill!

 

As a pet sitter, I pride myself on being prepared. I use what I’d like to think is a sophisticated Swiss Army knife-mode of field technology that would make James Bond’s "Q" jealous. Ok it’s just a pet sitting app. 

But it has fields for everything a sitter would need to know. For instance, there’s the Food section. Most clients give detailed info. ‘Tiger gets ½ can of wet food in the blue bowl at 8am.’ Then there’s Medication: ‘Fido gets an insulin shot at 7pm. Insulin is in the fridge next to what looks like a live science experiment but it’s not. Just don’t touch it.’

But some clients? Zero. Zilch. Nada. When I can’t get a hold of them via text or phone call, I’m left channeling my inner MacGyver!

“What’s this? An open can of tuna in the fridge? Is that today’s dinner or tomorrow’s breakfast? This crumpled note says, ‘Remember the meds.’ Okay, which meds? The blue pill or the red pill? Forget the cat; can I take one of each at this point?”

Sometimes it feels less like pet sitting and more like 007.

Bond Villain: “To survive Mr. Bond, you must determine how much kibble to feed Mittens. Too little and you’ll face the wrath of kitty toe-beans in your face! Too much and…well, let’s just say the litter box will self-destruct in 10 seconds!”

With just a little preparation and detailed information, I’ll have everything I need to properly and confidently care for your pet and maintain my sanity. Because while I love a challenge, I’d rather feel less like MacGyver and more like James Bond…License to Pill! 

Bad puns suck. But good ones are Money Punny! [see what I did there?]

Sometimes I'm Hazel!

 

Everybody is busy. Not everyone has the time or energy to clean up, dust off or sweep up. And hiring a housekeeper every week, much less once a month is not in everyone's budget. But tidying up is not just about cleanliness, although that's important, it's also about keeping your pets out of potential harm. Like maybe don't leave that half-eaten chocolate bar hanging off the edge of your kitchen counter that would take Fido one good stretch of his neck to grab, gobble up and end up in the ER.

Often times I have to channel my inner Hazel to prevent any incidental pet casualties. I don't mind putting on that "apron" especially if I'm visiting a client's home for several days. Working in a clean environment benefits everyone. So sweeping various unidentified food particles off the floor, throwing away that broken plate in the corner, quick-mopping mystery stains found through out the pet areas and throwing away that used female blood-collecting device off the floor (YES that s--t happened!🤮) makes my job SO much freakin' easier and less stressful.

If I'm doing a stretch of Overnight visits and a client leaves me a kitchen straight out of Kitchen Nightmares I'm going to give it a good once-over that would make Gordon Ramsay blush. Because botulism is not on my To-Do list.

So I'm fine with doing a little cleaning, it gives my brain a feeling of calm and saves me from being grossed out from whatever mystery object is on the floor. 

We are all busy. I'm busy too and after a long day of work I make sure I come home to a clean, relaxing environment. That's why when the situation calls for it, sometimes I become my own Hazel, or your Hazel. In any case Mr. Baxter will be happy.

absfuzzybabies.com

Lady Gross-Gross!

 

As a pet sitter, it may sound gross, but nothing gives me greater satisfaction than a dog doing its business on a walk. That little squat? That's my victory dance. That fresh pile? That's my trophy. It's like I'm operation a Play-Doh Fun Factory, and my clients are cranking out exactly what's expected. 👍

When it doesn't happen? Pure disappointment. A non-pooper makes me feel like I've failed at my mission, like an Uber driver who got ghosted at the pick-up spot. 

However, when it does happen and it's a melty soft-serve mess? Well, let's just say that's a 'loose-loose' situation for everyone involved. 

But tracking a dog's elimination is a crucial part of my job. It's one of the biggest indicators of their health. Because unlike humans, dogs can't just text their vet, "Hey Doc, I'm gonna need that weird little talking Cologuard box. Something's off."

If there are strange objects in their poop? I don't just report back, I document. Yes, I take pictures for the client. You could call me the Poop-arazzi! I'll try not to hold my breath for the Lady Gaga reboot version of the song with the similar title.

So, pet parents, keep an eye on those 'deposits' and channel your inner Poop-arazzi. Because when it comes to your pup's health, the 'scoop' is in the poop!

No autographs...PLEASE!

Lost & FOUND Hounds

 

At least once or twice a year, I find myself playing amateur detective when I come across a dog that has Houdini’d its way out of the house. Thankfully, I have a knack for figuring out where these escape artists live—either by leashing them and letting them lead me home like a four-legged GPS or by asking passersby if they recognize the furry fugitive.

Most of the time, the owners never even know their little explorer took an unauthorized field trip. I’ll just herd them back through an open gate and close it tight. Sometimes, I find a front door flung wide open, shuffle Fido back inside like a personal valet at a doggy nightclub, and shut the door. And no one knows because I leave like a pet-sitting Ninja. 

I just want to make sure these lost hounds are found before they end up on a "missing" poster. I'd like to think of myself as the Gabi Moseley for dogs. Only I don't have an evil dog locked up in my basement to help me solve cases.

Your Dog is Not a Ming Dynasty Emperor: The Perils of Long Nails

 

 

One of my responsibilities as a professional pet sitter and dog walker is keeping an eye out for signs of illness, behavioral changes, and anything out of the ordinary and yes, including the consistency of your pet’s elimination (glamorous, I know). But the most common issue I see? Nails.

I often find myself telling clients that it might be time for a trim. Because unless their dog is auditioning for the role of a Ming Dynasty emperor, those claws need to go. Overgrown nails aren’t just a minor cosmetic issue; they can lead to serious discomfort, joint pain, and misaligned toes. Plus, if your dog is slipping and sliding across hardwood floors like Tom Cruise in Risky Business, it’s time to grab the clippers.

Long nails change how dogs walk, forcing them to shift their weight awkwardly, which can eventually lead to arthritis or joint issues. And if you’ve ever been on the receiving end of an overgrown paw slap, you already know the dangers firsthand.

So do your pup a favor, get those nails trimmed. Because trust me, the only thing worse than a dog with long nails is the grimace on your face when they use you as a launchpad! 😬

Angry Villagers!

 

I'm a pet parent and I'd like to think I have a healthy level of concern for my pets when I'm traveling and my pet sitter is taking care of them. Most of my clients express healthy levels of concern as well. But every so often I get a Helicopter Pet Parent. This is the pet parent that trusts you enough to pet sit their fuzzy babies, but not enough to where they are calling you once, twice, thrice even four times to check on Fluffy.

I was booked for Overnights and midday dog walks for "Fido." I arrived on my third night with Fido. After our evening walk, my phone died so I plugged it in. I prepared myself and Fido for bed. I was fresh out of the shower and in my jammies when I heard loud banging at the door! It was Angry Villagers with their torches and pitchforks demanding my head! Actually it was neighbors armed with smart phones and flashlights.

I was pissed and scared but mostly pissed, and answered in an aggressive tone, "CAN I HELP YOU?!" The neighbors were called by my client and ordered to storm the castle and knock on the door because I wasn't answering my phone...which was dead! 

The neighbors asked if I could open the door, probably so they could burn me at the stake. "Hell no!" I didn't say that, but I told them I wasn't comfortable with that since I didn't know who they were and my insurance policy states that blah, blah, blah...and told them I'd call the client myself. "Goodnight!" How you gone send Angry Villagers over to storm the castle because you haven't heard from me since my last update which was 2 hours ago?! 

I called the client back after missing their several calls and texts, because my phone was dead and politely explained to them that if they didn't trust me, that I had no problem helping them find another qualified sitter.

Poor 'Fido' was the Esmeralda to my Quasimodo, I was one bell tower short of a complete reenactment. Thankfully, no torches or stakes were needed. The Angry Villagers retreated, the client calmed down, and this Quasimodo lived to see another day. Unlike Victor Hugo’s novel which is just utterly sad and depressing. YAY!

Controlled KAOS!

 

 When it comes to home security, I like to think of myself as the Maxwell Smart of pet sitting. I maintain a healthy sense of urgency. Some might call it paranoia, but I call it common sense. I lock my doors after entering my apartment. At night I close my window coverings. During warmer months, I'll keep my windows open but close and lock them before going to bed. I have security gates at both front and back doors. I feel very secure with my Get Smart level of security.

Some clients however, do not share the same level of urgency. They are completely satisfied with leaving doors, windows and anything else that gives access to the inside of their home unlatched like they're living in Canada. Some refuse to draw their window coverings or have none at all, unfazed by the fact that any and everybody can peer in to catch a glimpse of their seemingly controlled lives. Their level of trust in humanity is staggering.

When I'm on an Overnight visit, I channel my inner Agent #99 and do a perimeter sweep locking every window, every door and drawing any window covering that's available. 

I was once offered to stay in a client's lovely guest house complete with it's own little kitchen, bathroom and bed area. The problem? I was surrounded by three walls of windows with ZERO blinds or curtains! I was not up for offering free OnlyFans content. It would've been painstakingly pedestrian, at best, anyway. Needless to say I camped out in the living room with one wall of windows which hovered above eye level. Not 100% happy, but it will do.

Another time I did an overnight in a guest bedroom with again...zero window coverings. But the few windows were small enough where I fashioned makeshift curtains out of my clothes. From Get Smart to MacGyver. I have to Control the KAOS somehow.

A client of mine warned me that there had been a series of break-ins in their neighborhood and asked me to make sure I locked the door behind me after entering the home. I'm not a rookie agent! Of course I'm going to lock the door. Not only do I value your pet's safety, but because frankly I value my life! 

What clients do in their homes is their business. They can whoop it up and live freely like it's the roaring '20's without a care in the world. But when I’m there, I’m the Agent on duty, enforcing modern-day security measures one locked latch at a time. And if real chaos comes calling, thank goodness I don't have to use my shoe to call Agent 911.

Petanormal Activity!

 

As a pet sitter, I’ve encountered my share of surprises; chewed up furniture, tinkle accidents and a cat that pulled a ‘Shawshank’ by knocking out her entire locked cat door! She never made it to Mexico cause I had treats.

But nothing compares to the two times I’ve walked into a client’s home, only to be greeted by...Bed Ghosts aka Unexpected Guests! It’s extremely traumatizing calling for a pet when what I thought was a lumpy unmade bed starts moving! I scream. They scream. And there are no frozen treats involved! 

I don’t ask no questions, I don’t wait for an explanation. I’m running out the door like the Final Girl in a horror film. Instead of calling for help I’m calling the client asking, “WTF?!” Ok, maybe not those words, but with that intent.

Before every ‘meet & greet’, I make it crystal clear: if anyone has access to the house, I need to know. Who, when, why; just give me the scoop. It’s a simple ask! During the ‘meet & greet’ I ask again, “Are you expecting anyone? Does anyone else have access?” And yet, on two separate occasions, I’ve found myself haunted by the aforementioned bed dwellers.

I’m here to care for your fuzzy babies, not navigate close encounters with surprise house guests. It’s bad for my blood pressure. Unlike Ray Parker, Jr. I am definitely afraid of ghosts – especially human ones hiding your sheets.