Meet my new furry friends, Molly and Flynn. Flynn is the old fella pictured above. I didn't crop the photo of him putting the moves on me, it was just my horrible aim. Had I caught my face I'm sure it would have been scrunched up and showing my dismay at his advances. I love my furry friends, but not that much.
I don't know what kind of fates have aligned in my life to allow people {even complete strangers like this family} to leave me in charge of their pets pretty consistently. I'm not complaining at all! I love it. It's the benefit of knowing an animal without having to take care of it long term. I get in some fun and then we go our separate ways.
My dog sitting adventures make me want to write my version of the Nanny Diaries. I'd change names {of the pets} so as not to embarrass them when I write about how crazy their owners can be! I'm not judging, I too can say that if I were to leave my dog, who is a descendant of a wolf, for a weekend, that I might want to leave out his sweaters and booties in case he gets cold. In July. In St. George. I completely understand. OK, no I don't. And maybe I'm messing with my chances of ever being a dog sitter again by poking fun but I do follow peoples wishes, no matter how out there I think they can be sometimes.
This family was so easy. 'Here is their food. Here are the dogs, you know what to do. Oh and did we mention we have a Chinchilla and 6 baby chicks? But you don't need to worry about them.' Right on. My kind of laid back people.