A dog's Nirvana is a game of fetch, a stroll on the beach, or both...

I think one of the reasons I enjoy my job as a dogsitter so much is because witnessing pure, unfiltered, unabashed joy is magical. It does wonders for the spirit. And when I'm walking a trio of dogs, my own included, along a beautiful New England beach at sunset, and throwing their beloved ball for them to fetch as we walk, this is what I'm witnessing. The beauty of nature and its beasts doing what they love most.

V-neck T's: $25

Tanks: $20

Long-Sleeved Shirts: $25

High Quality Dingo's Dogsitting Hooded Sweatshirts for Sale: $35 each

Dingo's Dogsitting Doggie Shirts Now Available: $18 each

Poopy Predicaments

The shame!  The embarrasment!  The looks of disgust!  There's nothing worse, as a "professional" dog walker, that those moments when you are inadequately prepared for poop disposal, or to put it more bluntly, when you didn't bring enough shit bags on your walk and you have to leave one or more doggie-defacations on the ground.  Gross.

Today prior to walking Heureux (one of my regulars) and my own dog, Dingo, I stuffed three plastic bags in my pocket, hypothesizing that I was abundantly prepared in the off-chance that one of my furry friends decided to go number two a total of two times (they are both usually solitary poopers).

Woe was me when both dogs emptied their bowels on two separate occasions in a total of four separate locations.  Oi!  I feel the need, in ill-prepared instances such as these, to glance around for contemptuous peepers pointed in my direction, followed by a disclaimer on my part, said aloud to anyone within ear shot, justifying my predicament lest these random passers-bye think  me anything less than a consummate professional.

After my soliloquey in Somerville I couldn't help but think that I'm not the only one who does this.  Admit it, you too have been there and done that, haven't you?  Actually, my friend and I had a conversation regarding this taboo topic just a week ago which inspired me to post this less than appetizing topic.  I take comfort in knowing that I'm not alone.  You should too.  Shit happens.  Literally.  I guess the lesson of the day is:  better to be over-prepared then under.  Even if that means jamming plastic bags in every orifice of clothing.  Or better yet - note to self: wear clothes with more pockets!

"I Love Balls!"

My dog is obsessed with balls.  Literally OBSESSED.  Balls are her crack-cocaine, her reality TV, her chocolate, her highly-addictive substance in any/all forms.  She sleeps with them and brings them wherever we go - like a little kid with his or her favorite toy.  I'm pretty sure she would risk life and limb to get a ball.  I wouldn't put it past her to, for example, jump out the window of a speeding car to get a ball (she has not done this yet, thank goodness).

Dingo's not a huge fan of swimming but if she spots a ball in any type of body of water - ocean, lake, stream, raging rapid - or better yet if you throw a ball out there for her to fetch, she's jumping in after it without hesitation.    

The other day I was joking with my friends that I want to make her a little doggie shirt that says, "I Love Balls!".  This idea started as a joke but then I got to thinking, I do have a few other doggie clients who are almost as obsessed with balls as Dingo (although the only dog I can think of that is truly in love with balls like Ding is a client named Leila, who is mentioned earlier in this blog :).  That said, these shirts could be a hit!

What do you think?  Would you buy your dog a shirt that said, "I Love Balls!".  I "reckon" it would make a great conversation starter.  If you are a single gal I would suggesting bringing your dog to "Yappy Hour" at the Liberty Hotel with one of my shirts and maybe a matching one of your own.  It may be a bit uncouth but I'll bet you, and your dog, will be quite a hit.

Coming soon, Dingo's Dogsitting shirts emblazoned with "I Love Balls!"....Get em' while they're hot.

Physical Therapy for Your Pet

Every Tuesday I take a Golden Retriever named Betsy to Physical Therapy at the Sterling Ipression Animal Rehab Facility in Walpole, Mass: http://sterlingimpressionanimalrehab.com/index.html.  Betsy tore the ACL in her left knee a few weeks ago, so prior to surgery the staff at Sterling Rehab are working to strengthen the muscles surrounding her knee, as well as ease the secondary pressure in her back.

Upon arrival Betsy always starts out with a heat pack applied to her injury followed by a firm rub down of the area and her back, which has tightened considerably since she is compensating for her injured knee. 

This “rub-down routine” is always followed by a five minute walk on a treadmill.  The difference between Sterling’s treadmill and most normal treadmills is that this particular treadmill is located at the base of a tank which can be filled with water.  Betsy walks in the water, about chest high, to limit the pressure on her knee as she walks. 

After her “walk on the wet side” Betsy gets a cold compress to her knee.  This is usually followed by a treatment of healing laser light applied to the injured area.  Sometimes after her laser treatment she will go on a wobble board, which is just exactly what it sounds like – a board she must stand up on and keep her balance to improve the muscle tone in her back.  Sometimes she will be seen by a chiropractor for an alignment after this and about every other week she finishes with a visit to the house acupuncturist, who might I add, is AMAZING in both demeanor and skill.  Betsy always seems most at ease after her visit the with acupuncturist, and truth be told, Anne has such a soothing presence that even I seem to be bewitched under her calming spell (and she doesn’t even poke me with anything). 

If you’re contemplating getting your pet physical therapy, either for an injury or to lose some weight, I highly recommend seeking out the assistance of Sterling Rehab.  Their staff, Kathy, the head therapist; Nina, her underling; Kevin the college intern, and Anne, the acupuncturist, is truly a delight.  They will put both you and your pet right at ease.  For more information check out there website or feel free to drop me a line.  I will answer any questions to the best of my ability.

Let the healing begin!

The Incredible Edible Egging

Back in February of this year I was dog/house-sitting for a woman who lives in the Savin Hill area of Dorchester; upon approaching her house for the first time this winter (I have, in fact, serviced her and her two beautiful Olde English Bulldogs in both the summer and fall months but never in any temperatures that would allow for snowfall) I noticed that her neighbors all along the (public) street had “reserved” their parking spots with trash bins, laundry baskets, cones, beach chairs, and the like.  Now, as anyone who has lived in Boston knows, this is pretty typical behavior among Bostonians shortly after a snow storm, after which one has shoveled out their parking spot and quite appropriately, wants to bask in or utilize the fruits of their labor for a couple more days.  But as of a couple weeks ago, we had not had any substantial snow fall for some time, and there was but a few paltry piles of snow left on this particular street in Dorchester.

I asked my client what the deal was with regards to the “reserved” spots and she being quite pleasant and reasonable (and with her own private off-street parking spot) acknowledged that it was a bit ridiculous but went on to caution that people get “really upset” if you take their spot.  This was an understatement.

For most of the week I stayed at her house the parking gods smiled upon me and I was able to find empty spots sans reservation markers.  Unfortunately for me, the last night of my stay I decided to go to the gym after work and upon returning to her apartment around 9pm there were but two empty spots left on the street – one was reserved with a trash barrel and the other with a laundry basket.  My strong opinions on social mores and propriety – “how dare you reserve a spot for yourself on a public street?!” – got the better of me and I moved the trash barrel and parked my car in that spot.  Bad idea.  The next morning I woke up to an egged car.  L 

When I reported my misfortune to my client she reasoned that I had been lucky – apparently a few weeks prior to my car’s assault, someone was so incensed that their spot had been taken that they through their trash barrel through the “offender’s” windshield.  Only in Dorchester, man.  Wickid pissah!  

"Swimmy"

I have a new nickname for one of my dog-sitting clients.  That nickname is "Swimmy".  Not just because she enjoys the water.  No – I’ve watched quite a number of dogs who enjoy frolicking in the water.  Some, like Dingo, seem to delight in merely wading, others like to venture in over their heads, and still others will chase a ball into the depths of any body of water for what seems like an infinite number of times.   I’ve even known a couple to launch themselves off aptly placed docks to chase their prize.  “Swimmy”, however, seems to enjoy the water in a bit of a different way than my other charges.   Unfortunately, I learned only after jumping into the Arlington Reservoir after her, that Swimmy's idea of fun in the water involves swimming out to quite some depths and proceeding to swim in circles.  Incessantly.  For minutes, sometimes hours on end.  

Now let me backtrack a little, the last time I watched "Swimmy" (real name: Leila), a beautiful white and black Staffordshire Terrier with one crystal blue and one brown eye, and her "brother", Kona, a Rottweiler/Boxer mix, it was winter, so our walks around the Arlington reservoir provided no opportunity for swimming, or in Leila's case, "crazy face" (Leila's owner's professional diagnosis) shark circling.  Last Sunday, however, as soon as I removed her leash she bounded into the water.  Okay.  No big deal.  Kona and Dingo did a little swimming of their own.  But Leila started swimming out far.  Really far.  I figured, nervously, that she would come back eventually.  After all, the survival instinct in any animal is strong enough to force them to willfully return to shore at the onset of fatigue.  Gulp.  Right?  

I began calmly calling Leila back to shore.  She'd always listened to me pretty well in the past and I figured once she heard me energetically calling her name and waving her beloved ball in the air that she would surely return safely to dry land.  Wrong!  Leila, teasingly, would start swimming towards shore but then she would abruptly turn around and start paddling in the other direction.  This went on for about ten to fifteen minutes before I started to get nervous.  My mind started churning, “What if she is getting stuck in the weeds growing so abundantly from the bottom of the relatively shallow (though certainly over her head) reservoir?  This might be preventing her from swimming back!  Worse even, what if her paws get tangled in one of these weeds and pull her under!”

Now I really start panicking.  In my angriest, I-mean-business, “big girl” voice I start, now sternly and vehemently, calling her back.  “Leila, come back here NOW!”  While this alternative approach likely elicited some stares from other pedestrians walking around the reservoir, it did nothing to assuage Leila to come back in.  Leila continued to swim like the desultory wind – this way and that – with no rhyme or reason to her paddles or direction.   Either she was completely ignoring me in the same way a willful teen would his parents or, I reasoned, she was so fatigued and lacking oxygen to her brain that she was delusional and could not sort out in which direction to head to shore. 

After a long thirty minutes of pleading, yelling, praying (it’s amazing how we all, myself included, become zealots at the slightest inkling of trouble), and otherwise causing quite a seen, I resigned myself to the fact that I would be jumping in after Leila.  There is nothing I wanted to do less than get into the dirty, mucky, brown, god-knows-what-is-festering-in-the Arlington Reservoir, in fact, on the way in I noticed that the town sewage runs into this particular body of water (I guess it’s not for drinking) but I refused to allow this dog to drown on my watch.  I jumped in, sneakers and all.

I would like to say I swam out and rescued Leila, relying on my previous life-guard training, but in incredibly anti-climactic fashion, as soon as I got about waste deep, wouldn’t you know that Ole’ Swimmy came doggie-paddling back.  I was relieved that she was safe.  Then angry that she pulled that stunt.  Then annoyed that I was wet.  All in that order. 

The next day, Swimmy’s owner g-chatted me to find out how her dogs were doing.  I have included a small excerpt from our conversation after I had already told her about our escapades from the day before at the bottom of this post.  Lei’s owner, who I will just call “L”, literally caused me to laugh out loud.  I was certainly happy she had a good sense of humor about the situation and I couldn’t help but laugh at Leila’s antics myself:  As a disclaimer, because I know you don’t know Leila, she is a totally sweet, completely loving dog, but she is, as her owner and I mention in our upcoming conversation, a tad crazy/nuts.  Still, she is one of my favorite clients, and I think maybe, just maybe, it’s because I can sort of relate.  If I had to describe myself to a potential suitor, I would likely describe myself in the same way I describe Leila, totally loving and seeking approval but a little bit crazy in her own idiosyncratic way.J

L: she is a seriously crazy little dog

L: fortunately she has a ridiculous amount of endurance

  I am so sorry

L: she is truly nuts at times

L: the easiest way to get her out of crazy face is to give her a tennis ball

  even in the water

  it's a substitution thing for her

  one obsession for the other

 me: i tried the tennis ball trick

  but it did not work

 L: she was totally out of her mind then

L: seriously, she's nuts

L: we've had that experience before - i should have remembered to tell you about her water nutso. the last time you've had them it was winter and i didn't remember to update you on the spring/water business

  laughing

  oh i am so sorry

 L: and she's nuts

  we used to put her in a lifejacket because she scared us so much

11:49 AM and one time we did that and just let her go crazy. marc tied her to an inner tube with a rope (she was in her life jacket) and he just sat in it drinking beer watching her go crazy. She swam continuously, in circles, for over an hour and a half

 me: lol!

  i'm literally laughing out loud

  she's nuts!

 L: totally. if she was a human she would be on heavy meds

 L: and this is coming from a psychologist.

 me: so, unfortunately, as this was happening, kona's harness came off at some point and must have sank to the bottom of the reservoir.  I’ll buy you guys a replacement.

L: oh please don't - we'll call it less than even for my failure to tell you about crazyface and your swim in the gunky Arlington Reservoir