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

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!

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.