That's My Boy!

Good dog, that One Spot!



He's an old guy, going deaf in his old age, and a bit arthritic. Typical for an old lab.
I walk him through the park near his house twice a day. Now that the weather is nice, the school kids hand out in the park and play frisbee or some other game involving throwing a ball around. They leave the park a mess, despite the fact that there are several trash containers. It's a nice little park, so I end up picking up some of the trash on our walks and throwing it away.
This afternoon, I said something to the kids. I asked them nicely to pick up after themselves before they leave. They were very nice boys, and they agreed. However, there already was a bunch of trash on the ground, so I was picking it up as I was heading towards the closest garbage can. One Spot is an old guy, he is not going to run off. He is too interested in looking for scraps of their lunches they may have left behind. With my hands full, I dropped his leash.
What did my old man do? He walked over to one of the boys backpacks, and peed on it! I pulled him away, but it was already too late. One Spot said what he had to about the kids littering!
I have to give the kids credit. They all gathered around the peed-on backpack and told me the dog peed on it. I told them I was going to take care of that right now. Across the street is a pizza place, where I bought a bottle of water, and rinsed the bag off. I apologized, and the boys were all very understanding about it, and most of them came over to pet One Spot.
He is my hero, that One Spot, the Old Man!

Happy Adoption Days

A year and a half ago, I adopted Max after the death of my precious fur baby, Aunt Sue. I saw Max on MyYahoo, looking for a home. He was in NJ. I figured being on Yahoo with that face, he must have had dozens of people applying to adopt him. But I was the lucky one.
Some friends offered to drive me to Jersey, where we met with the adoption agency halfway, in the Ikea parking lot, under the big green letter J. It was like a drug deal: i traded an envelope of money for a big fat orange tabby. Maybe it was more like paying a ransome. At any rate, I cried when I saw him. He reminded me of Aunt Sue, the best orange tabby ever! (At least on this side of the Mississippi).
I was planning on picking him up alone, but i am glad I got the ride, so I could share this happy day with some very good human friends, and spend more time bonding with my new son.




Yesterday I went with a client to pick up her new fur baby, Molly. About a month and a half ago, she lost her wheaton terrier, Baily, unexpectantly. (read about Baily in a prior posting). It was a very happy day. For the first time I got to share the happiness with a client. Too often i had accompanied them to vets to put their babies down, or to the crematorium for final rights. I am tired of crying in saddness. Yesterday I joined the new proud mom in tears of joy.

Long live Max, and Long Live Molly!

Things That Suck

It's a great job, and I feel fortunate to be a pet sitter.
There are, however, three aspects of pet sitting that suck big time.

1. Rain. I don't mind the rain so much. I have invested in a good raincoat and boots. What sucks is the heavy rain, because no amount of rain gear will keep you totally dry. Not to mention that wet dogs don't smell as good as a dry one.

2. Death. Pets die. it's an unfortunate truth. And when the pets die, I cry, right along with the owners.

3. Anally Retentive Homeowners. Every once in awhile, you get that person who stands and stares at you, with a look that could kill, because they don't want a dog to walk on thier lawn. This is probably the most frustrating part of being a dog walker. The first two things can't be helped. They are acts of God. But dog-hating homeowners?!!! What really gets to me is when they yell at you to keep the dog off thier grass, when they are dog owners themselves. I feel sorry for thier pets. What a miserable person it is who won't let a dog walk on thier grass. Do you think at the end, when all is said and done, that God gives a crap whether you have the nicest lawn in the neighborhood? Last week I was walking a senior citizen dog. It was the end of the walk, and we were almost home. The dog was walking on some homeowner's grass, smelled something, and decided to leave his mark. For goodness sake, it was the END of our walk--he had already peed, so he was only marking his scent by leaving about a teaspoonfull. The homeowner says to me "There goes my nice green lawn!" FOR CRYIN' OUT LOUD!!!!! Somebody tell this guy that one teaspoon of dog piss is not gonna burn his entire lawn up. By the way, his lawn wasn't so great to start with, and it wasn't because of dogs relieving themselves on his property.
HELP! What can one say to the mean old men and women out there who complain of a little dog piss, or some poop that gets scooped? or the meanies that don't even want the dog to walk on thier lawn? I haven't figured this one out yet, so if you have any ideas, I am open to suggestions.