In The Dog Box - Dog Sitting -

Life is not all doom and gloom, I’m happy to report. It’s been a busy few months since my last missive. I want you to know that writing this blog is very important, not only for keeping you, my friends, family, and readers, up to date, but also for helping me stay connected and grounded. 

“A home without a pet is like a sky without stars — still beautiful, but missing its sparkle.” That’s something my Granny Joey would've  said. She had a lot of sparkle in her home with her beloved Persians.

We are creatures of habit and very seldom veer from our chosen path. Retirement means exactly the opposite. It’s the time for renewal and for rewiring our brains and letting go of  old habits. It's time to throw caution to the wind. We certainly have nothing to lose by doing so except succumbing to boredom and inertia. That’s what all the gurus and books, and I’m sure AI, will tell you.

While visiting my children in Canada, I had an opportunity to spend a delightful few days with my eldest and his partner, Erin, my daughter-in-law. This colourful sunbird with her cascading auburn mane is one of the busiest people I know. (it is often said that the busiest people always have time for more.) Not only is she a shift worker and a seasoned 911 operator, but she’s also in the throes of renovating an old house, building a Puzzle Swapping Application, and pet-sitting. She babysits her nephews and nieces, entertains her friends, and upholsters furniture. The smell of fresh paint lingered as we entered through the sunny yellow front door. Erin was busy renovating their current home and doing odd cosmetic improvements. Nothing like a fresh start to summer, she said while preparing supper.

In the utility room, a mother cat lay in a large padded basket with her litter of kittens, and on the couch sat the pooch they were dog-sitting. They had recently lost their cat and dog, and although devastated by the loss, they couldn’t see their way clear to not foster and sit this menagerie. When this one leaves, she says, pointing her wooden spoon at the pooch, we have another cutey returning for a visit.

The idea of dog-sitting appealed to me. No sooner had I unpacked my suitcases at home seven weeks later than I told Butch all about it, hoping to inspire him to agree to my idea.

My argument was that we both love animals, but having a pet did not suit our lifestyle. Our wish to travel makes that idea difficult to realise. Secondly, I’d hate to outlive my pet, and I don’t think I have the capacity to weather the loss of an older pet—too much sadness in that. Pet-sitting would fit the bill. We could do so when it suited us, and it might even afford some interesting getaways. Although Butch was a little reluctant, the seed was planted, and soon a shoot sprouted.

Sometimes all one needs to do is send a thought out into the universe, and if it’s the right thing to do, the Universe answers, and your wish is granted. (I do remember the Indian curse, “may you be granted what you wish for!”)

Within a week, our first assignment came up unexpectedly. Angie, a white standard Poodle who lives in Camps Bay, needed a sitter. We jumped at the opportunity.

Instructions were clearly dispatched to us, and for ten days, we had the pleasure of this double whammy: a stay in Camps Bay and the company of a magnificent white standard poodle.

Angie and I walked twice a day. Every morning, we explored the beachfront and the many parks and forests. There were times she took me for a spin.

Angie’s love for exploring off-leash showed her unique personality, making me appreciate how animals have their own special needs and quirks that can enrich our lives.

We met so many people. On every walk, someone would come up to us to pet her, chat, and find out all about her pedigree. There were even times when locals familiar with her would greet her and know her by name.

During our walks, I learned to handle unexpected situations, such as helping Angie navigate busy streets.

Our explorations and adventures took me to places I’d never seen, nor enjoyed before, and soon I became a local, the lady with the magnificent Poodle who trotted like a Lipizzaner.

All too soon, we heard the front gate slide open and heard the crash of suitcases as they were deposited onto the tiled floors of the entrance hall. It was time for us to pack up.

Although Angie was delighted to see her favourite people again, I did catch a glint in her eyes. I think she was sad to see us go, too.

Angie’s cheerful spirit and constant companionship made me feel connected and grateful, reminding me how animals can form strong bonds that touch our hearts. I left Camps Bay fitter, sun-tanned and invigorated.

---oOo---

A few weeks later, Butch noticed a request on one of his Overlanding groups. A German couple who had been travelling through Africa needed to return to Germany after their eighteen months on the road, and Felix, their Pug, needed a sitter.

“Give it a go”, I commanded Butch “, we can do it!”

Butch responded to the request, and with a nod from the other members of the group, who gave us the thumbs-up, we met the devoted couple and their precious Felix. We had to be vetted before they’d trust us with their pooch.

He is an ageing monochrome tripod and cancer survivor with a squashed face and few teeth. We immediately fell in love with him, and it was agreed that we’d be his hosts for one month.

Although he has a very posh furry blanket and a padded bed, his favourite spot was our bed for early-morning naps. While he snored, we did our daily Wordle and caught up with world news while sipping our morning brew.

With Felix on his  lead, I’d take him out to explore Gansbaai every morning. We’d investigate the returning fishing boats and say hi to the parrot who patiently waited while his minder repaired broken lawnmowers. Without fail the ladies at the Komtessa boutique, in the High street would open the security gate and insist Felix needed water. It was impossible to pass by Pam Golding Estate agents without Felix dragging me in to have his ears rubbed by the pretty blonde receptionist.

Felix was a hit, drawing both men and mice to him for a petting. He thrived on all the attention.

His perculiar gait often drew sympathetic ohs and ahs, but be assured he suffers no discomfort from his amputation and looks so cute when he runs, like someone with an arm tucked up in a sling! He is particularly deft at "climbing stairs" which he's perfected as he propels himself forward using his back legs. There were times when he'd cock his head at the top of a set of stairs and refuse to move until he was picked up, cuddled and carried for a while.

His routine set the course most afternoons as he “read the newspaper” and marked every pole, shrub, and step en route. He certainly has a bladder and prostate for the books. I often wondered what information he had gleaned from all the sniffing.

His favourite rendezvous was the Gansbaai Coffee Shop, where he knew fresh water and a treat awaited him. While he napped, I’d photograph him for his “parents”, who looked forward to my daily updates on the life and times of their Felix.

Felix accompanied us to all our appointments and never disappointed, embarrassed or inconvenienced us. He was immediately loved and fawned over by all. He even got the nod to star in our latest class of '74 reunion photograph.

Young and old love Felix, who always indulged everyone’s petting and never snapped when he was exhausted, bored or hangry. He is the epitome of good manners, patience and willingness to patronise or appease. I am sure he rolls his eyes at times.

On a perfect evening, we’d all wander down to our favourite sundowner spot with snacks and drinks, and after wetting his feet and snapping at small fish, Felix would lie down under my chair to wait until I’d taken my sunset photos for the day.

He is a character who endears himself to everyone. There were two locals we’d meet regularly on our evening walks. Tattooed Charlie, with the limp and gnarled fingers,  blessed us and told me his life story as we walked, and redirected us all the way to the Off Sales, where he nipped in for his daily tipple and called me Moeder, and suntanned Michael with cornflower irisses, who’d fallen on hard times but found a cuddle from Felix a balm to his soul. He pampered Felix to the N'th degree and, on a few occasions, carried the hound, kissing the top of his head. He smiled, and the sadness, hopelessness and anxiety would lift every time he spotted Felix.

Felix loves humans, but his favourite pastime was meeting soulmates, and other dogs. No matter where we were, if he caught sight of another dog, he’d be off like a shot, and then the dance would begin. He’d make slow circuits to sniff, growl and inspect the newcomer. His gentle countenance soon had the recipient of the attention relax, and then off he’d be, his attention span's limited, on to new experiences. One such encounter at the Oranjezicht Farmer’s Market could’ve gone awry, but praise be, it didn’t. He did though, lift his leg on one of the poles causing a consternation for the potter selling his wares. Felix is a regular visitor to the market and sports one of Chommies LouisV's lookalike handbags and leash. He is a pampered pet, but, worth it.

“Dogs do speak, but only to those who know how to listen.” Orhan Pamuk, My Name is Red.

With Felix, we had a gentler experience, he being an old man. But he crept into our hearts. I could sit on the harbour wall for an hour watching him chase sea gulls and badger the resident seal.

Before returning him to his humans, he was groomed, brushed and polished until his coat had a glossy sheen. The Johnson's baby shampoo did the trick and the smell of Gansbaai harbour, fish entrails and kelp were thoroughly washed away.

Butch and I have been fortunate to have had Felix stay on two occasions, with the promise of a third visit in the future.

I am now officially his Granny, and I love it. Some of our grandchildren have met Felix, and, like our friends and family, they always enquire about him and wonder where he is. I am happy to report that it seems he has become very fond of South Africa and, due to his age, will probably remain an honorary Saffa for his remaining years. In his fancy basket he can watch the tides come in and go out.

Butch and I have not spread the word about our pet-sitting idea. I think it certainly is something we would enjoy, and I do believe the pets we’ve cared for have loved it! A win-win situation, I do believe.

We need to explore outside of our comfort zone in this new and scary phase of our lives. The company of an animal certainly lifts our spirits, gives us purpose and establishes a new routine.

Someone said, “Felix knows who owns the house, but he still runs yours when he’s with you.” I won’t argue that point.

---oOo---

It was with great sadness that we learned that Angie passed away shortly after we sat her. I know she enjoyed her time with us and made the most of every opportunity she was given. May she rest gently.

Felix will be returning to us for a long stay during the winter months. I can’t wait to have him. He has stolen my heart, and I can say unequivocally that it is amazing how much love and laughter these animals bring into our lives and even how much closer we become with each other because of them.”

The silence that follows a dog or child’s departure is a life diminished.  I can attest to that.

---oOo---

Strangely, this brief period energised my life. I had purpose. We’d wake up early, we enjoyed our favourite coffee, later, with our hats on and a few poop bags and wet wipes, we went for long purposeful walks, even our meals tasted good, there were no pretences with a dog on a leash, especially when Angie spotted an opportunity to “hunt". All these small moments created long days of pure joy.

For a pet sitter (we would love to look after your beloved pooch) just send a message via the link below or email me [email protected]