I have a lot of stories about Luna. She was one of my favorite dogs, her mom was really nice, and she walked really well. She had been a street dog in Honduras but her mom fell in love when she was there (I think for the Peace Corps) and took her home. She was a little busted up, had been hit by a car and her leg wasn't set properly, a good sized hole in one of her ears, but was generally good natured and sweet. She loved all people but she could do without dogs when she was on leash. There will be many more Luna stories to come but this one stands out.
My Dog Walker, Mark, had been working for me for a while by this point. He knew Luna pretty well and enjoyed her walks as much as everyone else did. One day, he texted me a story that I'm unlikely to forget. As I said, Luna was a street dog. Because of this, she wanted to eat EVERYTHING. She preferred any kind of food (even rotten) but there were many things I pulled out of her mouth in her time with me. Fortunately, I never had this particular pleasure. Mark said he noticed her sniffing and called her. She was normally very good but didn't look up. He tugged on the leash and she grabbed something and ran to bring it to him. He couldn't quite see what it was but could see it wasn't something she should be eating. He grabbed for it but she pulled away. When she turned her head he could see that it was... a cat's leg. This kitty had obviously been dead for quite some time, now we really didn't want her to eat it. He went for it again but she whipped away, and swallowed it. Gross. Mark moved quickly away from the bush where she had found her prize and texted me. I told mom to keep an eye on her for any unfortunate side effects. I'll give it to mom, she took it in stride and responded with something like, "Oh Luna". The rest of the walk passed without incident, fortunately. Mark and I chatted about it later and both agreed that it was way better that he was walking Luna that day, and not his girlfriend Jess, who also walked for me. We both would have heard about that for months!
Tuesday, December 8, 2015
Tuesday, December 1, 2015
Who Let The Dogs Out?
When your company cares for 100 dogs or more a week, there's bound to be some craziness. We are very careful with locking doors, checking gates, and following client instructions but just like anything else, there are a lot of things that can go wrong at any given time, and sometimes, they do. Here is one such story.
Ryan was my first Dog Walker. We had known each other forever and he wasn't getting enough hours at his job at a dog daycare. He reached out and asked if I was hiring. Trying not to sound too desperate, I said yes. I hadn't had a day off in months. The idea of not having a walk for an entire day was almost too tempting to even think about. It worked out well and he worked for me for two years. After over a year, he was staying at a client's house. The client had three dogs, plus her daughter's dog was there. I got a frantic call from mom a couple days into the trip saying that a neighbor had called and all four of her dogs were out. Ryan was done with walks and headed back already and I decided to go out too to help catch them. Nikki (my GM) was with me and we jumped in my car and drove out. The house was far and rush hour was starting so it took us 45 minutes to get there. In that time I called another client who lived a block away and asked if she would be able to help look. She said she had the flu but gamely got into her car and drove around looking for them (have I mentioned how much I love my clients?). She saw them a couple times and relayed their positions, which Nikki then relayed to Ryan, who changed his direction. By the time we showed up Ryan was getting the last dog in the house. He was huffing and puffing but also smiling. That could have been terrible.
The question still remains though, who did let the dogs out? Ryan wasn't home when they busted out, he hadn't touched the gate at all. Mom insisted the gate was secure and he must have let them out or left something open somewhere. Determined to get to the bottom of this, most obviously because we didn't want it to happen again, we went to the gate and investigated. We discovered that the gate had been pushed hard enough that it had popped open. We suspect that a cat or neighbor's dog was on the other side and the dogs were barking and jumping on the gate (something they didn't normally do). With the weight of 4 dogs and that much activity, the gate couldn't hold up. We fixed it up so that it would hold and I took pictures to send to mom. In the end, the dogs were all safe, and the dogs let the dogs out.
Ryan was my first Dog Walker. We had known each other forever and he wasn't getting enough hours at his job at a dog daycare. He reached out and asked if I was hiring. Trying not to sound too desperate, I said yes. I hadn't had a day off in months. The idea of not having a walk for an entire day was almost too tempting to even think about. It worked out well and he worked for me for two years. After over a year, he was staying at a client's house. The client had three dogs, plus her daughter's dog was there. I got a frantic call from mom a couple days into the trip saying that a neighbor had called and all four of her dogs were out. Ryan was done with walks and headed back already and I decided to go out too to help catch them. Nikki (my GM) was with me and we jumped in my car and drove out. The house was far and rush hour was starting so it took us 45 minutes to get there. In that time I called another client who lived a block away and asked if she would be able to help look. She said she had the flu but gamely got into her car and drove around looking for them (have I mentioned how much I love my clients?). She saw them a couple times and relayed their positions, which Nikki then relayed to Ryan, who changed his direction. By the time we showed up Ryan was getting the last dog in the house. He was huffing and puffing but also smiling. That could have been terrible.
The question still remains though, who did let the dogs out? Ryan wasn't home when they busted out, he hadn't touched the gate at all. Mom insisted the gate was secure and he must have let them out or left something open somewhere. Determined to get to the bottom of this, most obviously because we didn't want it to happen again, we went to the gate and investigated. We discovered that the gate had been pushed hard enough that it had popped open. We suspect that a cat or neighbor's dog was on the other side and the dogs were barking and jumping on the gate (something they didn't normally do). With the weight of 4 dogs and that much activity, the gate couldn't hold up. We fixed it up so that it would hold and I took pictures to send to mom. In the end, the dogs were all safe, and the dogs let the dogs out.
Saturday, November 28, 2015
You Can't See What's Right in Front of You
I've been pet sitting for a long time. Pawsitively Pooches has been around since 2010 but I started in high school (around 1999). When I worked for a vet after college, I had a few clients that hired me for when they were out of town and was active in a local animal welfare organization where I got a couple other clients. One of the first clients I had that I didn't actually know (I had swapped a couple of emails with her but that was it) hired me to stay at her house on the recommendation of our mutual friend, the director of the non profit I was involved in. I just had to stay at her house and play with the dog and feed the cats. I could do that. Here's what happened.
I got to the house and the dog was tied up out front sleeping on the stoop. That was very strange. She told me he'd be in the house. Plus they had a fenced yard, why would he be out front? I texted her to let her know I was there and mentioned his odd location. She said that was weird but her boyfriend was the last to leave and maybe he was just forgetful or something. I shrugged and went off to find the cats. The cats loved to hide and two were mother and daughter and looked almost exactly alike. I found one, but couldn't find the other anywhere. I messaged mom that I didn't see her and asked her for any less likely hiding spots than the ones she had already told me about. She gave me a couple. After about 20 minutes, I still hadn't found her. Mom called me and asked me to check the windows. I did, and sure enough, the screen had been torn in a window that was open. The pup had broken through the window and taken off. A neighbor recognized him and brought him home, tying him up out front (Ohhhhh). OK, well this isn't good. This kitty was very small, and not overly healthy or tough. What if she went outside??? Mom really didn't think she would but we were worried. I continued looking and after another 20 minutes or so decided to sit down and be quiet, in the hopes that she would make herself a little more visible if I wasn't banging around with increasing panic. I sat down on the couch and pet the dog, found the remote, and turned on the TV. I looked up to see what to watch... and there she was, sitting quietly on top of the TV wondering what all the fuss was about. I could see both her and her doppelganger so I knew it was her. I breathed a sigh of relief and called mom to tell her she was fine and relay the funny story. We both had a good laugh and the rest of the trip went off without a hitch. Phew.
I got to the house and the dog was tied up out front sleeping on the stoop. That was very strange. She told me he'd be in the house. Plus they had a fenced yard, why would he be out front? I texted her to let her know I was there and mentioned his odd location. She said that was weird but her boyfriend was the last to leave and maybe he was just forgetful or something. I shrugged and went off to find the cats. The cats loved to hide and two were mother and daughter and looked almost exactly alike. I found one, but couldn't find the other anywhere. I messaged mom that I didn't see her and asked her for any less likely hiding spots than the ones she had already told me about. She gave me a couple. After about 20 minutes, I still hadn't found her. Mom called me and asked me to check the windows. I did, and sure enough, the screen had been torn in a window that was open. The pup had broken through the window and taken off. A neighbor recognized him and brought him home, tying him up out front (Ohhhhh). OK, well this isn't good. This kitty was very small, and not overly healthy or tough. What if she went outside??? Mom really didn't think she would but we were worried. I continued looking and after another 20 minutes or so decided to sit down and be quiet, in the hopes that she would make herself a little more visible if I wasn't banging around with increasing panic. I sat down on the couch and pet the dog, found the remote, and turned on the TV. I looked up to see what to watch... and there she was, sitting quietly on top of the TV wondering what all the fuss was about. I could see both her and her doppelganger so I knew it was her. I breathed a sigh of relief and called mom to tell her she was fine and relay the funny story. We both had a good laugh and the rest of the trip went off without a hitch. Phew.
Hostage Situation
I wonder if there's a SWAT team for being held hostage by a cat. There should be. It would give them a new image, that's for sure. They come barreling in (hut hut hut) in full gear carrying toys for the cat to swat at, while you run away. Get it? SWAT team? Heh. I'm sure you're wondering how I could possibly be held hostage by one little house kitty. After all, I'm in and out of people's homes all the time. I deal with hundreds of cats and dogs every month including some dogs that aren't really sure they want me to be there. In fact, I was only in this house to walk the dog. I didn't even need to go anywhere near the cat! But there I was, at the top of the stairs with the door shut wondering how I was going to get down the stairs with the door open but without the cat attacking me. Let's start from the beginning.
Deuce is a big, happy boxer that needed to go potty while his mom and dad were out for the night. I had to check the water for the cat but he had plenty of food and his litter box had already been done. I went upstairs from the garage and took Deuce for a nice walk. When I brought him back for snuggles and pets (his favorite), I noticed the cat giving me the stink eye. Well, cats just give stink eye right? Probably nothing. As I walked through the apartment he stalked me. Weird, but not overly concerning. When I crossed out of the kitchen he launched from the floor onto my leg, holding on with his teeth. I yelped in surprise and pain and shook him off my leg. I turned to face him and we squared off. He wanted to come at me again but wasn't willing to do it while I was staring him down. I backed out of the room and shut the door and called his mom. He had never done that before. Hmmm. He was on the other side of the door yowling. Mom could hear him. I managed to get in and check his water, patted Deuce on the head (who had no interest in getting in the middle of this showdown), and backed out again. Easy peasy right? One thing though, the litter box is at the bottom of the stairs. The door to exit is also at the bottom. I have to open the door at the top of the stairs and get down the stairs to get away from Beelzecat before he launched at my head. Which is exactly what he tried to do every time I opened the door. I called the trainer I worked with. She gave me a few (ultimately useless) suggestions to get out. Eventually, I grabbed a plastic bag full of plastic bags and a baseball bat. I got down as low as I could and cracked the door enough for him to sneak through. I was halfway down the stairs when he ran in and chased me. He leapt at my face and I threw the plastic bags at him, turned and sprinted down the stairs. I made it! Kitty foiled! I could still hear him yowling on the other side of the door. I told mom that I made it, 45 minutes after his initial attack, and limped home where I soaked my wounds and marveled at what I weird life I have.
Epilogue: Mom was actually a friend and I went back to see if he was the same or if he was weirded out because mom and dad weren't home. He stalked me the whole time and hissed if I got within a few feet. They have since moved but he's still a stalker of pet sitters. Now that they know, though, they can be prepared!
Deuce is a big, happy boxer that needed to go potty while his mom and dad were out for the night. I had to check the water for the cat but he had plenty of food and his litter box had already been done. I went upstairs from the garage and took Deuce for a nice walk. When I brought him back for snuggles and pets (his favorite), I noticed the cat giving me the stink eye. Well, cats just give stink eye right? Probably nothing. As I walked through the apartment he stalked me. Weird, but not overly concerning. When I crossed out of the kitchen he launched from the floor onto my leg, holding on with his teeth. I yelped in surprise and pain and shook him off my leg. I turned to face him and we squared off. He wanted to come at me again but wasn't willing to do it while I was staring him down. I backed out of the room and shut the door and called his mom. He had never done that before. Hmmm. He was on the other side of the door yowling. Mom could hear him. I managed to get in and check his water, patted Deuce on the head (who had no interest in getting in the middle of this showdown), and backed out again. Easy peasy right? One thing though, the litter box is at the bottom of the stairs. The door to exit is also at the bottom. I have to open the door at the top of the stairs and get down the stairs to get away from Beelzecat before he launched at my head. Which is exactly what he tried to do every time I opened the door. I called the trainer I worked with. She gave me a few (ultimately useless) suggestions to get out. Eventually, I grabbed a plastic bag full of plastic bags and a baseball bat. I got down as low as I could and cracked the door enough for him to sneak through. I was halfway down the stairs when he ran in and chased me. He leapt at my face and I threw the plastic bags at him, turned and sprinted down the stairs. I made it! Kitty foiled! I could still hear him yowling on the other side of the door. I told mom that I made it, 45 minutes after his initial attack, and limped home where I soaked my wounds and marveled at what I weird life I have.
Epilogue: Mom was actually a friend and I went back to see if he was the same or if he was weirded out because mom and dad weren't home. He stalked me the whole time and hissed if I got within a few feet. They have since moved but he's still a stalker of pet sitters. Now that they know, though, they can be prepared!
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