For anyone who knows me well, knows I have a bitter, somewhat, cretinous, history with house-sitting. It all started about two and half years ago when my supervisor, of all people, called a favor of me. Now I’m the local “go-to-gal” when it comes to house or pet-sitting. In fact, I ran into my company’s GM today and he asked to me, “Are you the animal keeper?” Completely bewildered, I replied, “I’m a scientific assistant.” (which is my job title). After a couple minutes of fumbling over semantics I realized he wanted to know if I pet-sat.
Ironically, I’m never really thrilled to get job offers for pet-sitting. It’s true, I love animals, they’re my passion in life. And I’m a college student living on my own, so the extra money always helps out. But there’s something about being in someone else’s house, with someone else’s pets that causes the most stressful situations imaginable.
Of course, it doesn’t help when you shoot yourself in the foot by pet-sitting two very high-maintenance houses without pay…but that’s another story.
Currently I’m watching over: two dogs, a puppy lab-mix and a geriatric boston terrier (which is incontinent and requires diapering); one 3-legged cat; one very loud, obnoxious, blue and gold macaw; and two very malnourished (although unbeknown-st to the owner) tortoises. All in a very old house that was built circa 1930.
Until this morning, I’ve encountered minor stresses: the puppy vomited once and is constantly getting into things (i.e. my underwear, shoes, etc) which is expected from a puppy. The macaw tried to attack me on several occasions, but all attempts were unsuccessful, also the diapering and un-diapring of the boston terrier is aggravating but, like I said, until today, nothing major.
So, this morning I was woke at 5am, not by barking or whimpering dogs or a meowing cat or even a screaming macaw, but by a sickening smell that simply would not let me remain asleep. I had an hour and a half before I had to wake up and start taking care of animals and then go take my last exam before spring break, but this odor was incessant and it hung in the air. So I dragged myself out of bed and followed my nose.
The smell led to the back room where the two dogs were kept. In the dark of the early morning, my worst nightmare was realized. The puppy had diarrhea. It got worse. This house was built in the early 1900s and has no internal wiring, which means “track lighting” has been installed in rooms that have any lights at all. Yet, for some reason, when the owner was installing this “track lighting” she decided the back room was fine as it was and left it in the black, so to speak. So I was forced, this early morning to navigate through a poop covered room in the dark.
I managed to pull the puppy’s crate (which luckily contained most of the dog’s stool) out of the room through the lighted entry way, into the kitchen and outside in the back yard and cleaned up what I could see in the small back room. Mean while, the house needed to be aired out, I opened the first window I could find and let the fresh air rush in.
It was about 6:30 when I got around to feeding the animals. With fresh air filtering through the house, I went downstairs, to the basement to feed the cat, prepare the dogs’ food, and feed the macaw. But where was the cat?
F*@k! The windows! I let a three legged cat outside in the cold, a cat that can barely walk around and defend itself inside.
Now the macaw was screaming, the dogs were whimpering; all demanding to be fed, and my nerves were split. Just as I was about ready to kill the bird–the bird and I have a history as well, again, another story–the cat shows up at the back door, whining to come inside from the cold. Thank Odin! At least it’s not a stupid three legged cat!
I kept the dogs locked in the kitchen the rest of the day and suffice to say, I was so worried about the puppy covering another room in the repugnant, custard-like substance that came out of his rear end that I drove back to the little cottage every chance I got. Swearing up and down, I would never house-sit again.
I’m here house sitting this menegerie for 2 and half more days and with my history of house-sitting I’m sure I will house-sit again…The house-sitter’s bane: yes most house-sitter’s are poor and the money is good enough to keep coming back for more punishment.
