Help I've Fallen...

What do you think when you hear "Pet sitter"?  I had to research various viewpoints as I toyed with the idea of self employment.

I would be competing with kids and neighbors, veterinary technicians and "professionals".  I knew I could do this.  I have had animal companions in my homes since I can't even recall when. Most of the people I have ever known have had animals in their lives and that fact could lead to some serious earning potential.  So, on an inspired day, I created my own business on paper.  Then I obtained proper credentials, (a dishonesty bond and insurance), licensure through the city, and work attire.
Self publishing a brochure and business cards would cinch it and soon, I'd be living my American dream.
Well, almost..I had a ten month secretarial job, so this dream would sustain me during the summer and holiday vacations which rounded out the public school schedule.

The years of experience and fact that I never spent money on advertising (all word of mouth), grew my business and I found myself having to turn new clients away.  Great stuff, right?

The nature of this business, within the service community, is challenging.  There are many
"normal" situations, as one might expect.  There are also abnormal scenarios and there's no
way to anticipate the challenge until you walk through someone's front door.  Such is the case here.

My phone rang.  New number. New client. "I have a few pets..." she said.  Is your rate per day or per animal? "Per day", I replied.

That, right there SHOULD HAVE clued me in. But hey, I'm a business person and my schedule was open.

Walking in the door PAST THE SEVERAL pet food dishes,water bowls and makeshift kennels on the front porch, I was squeezed into a narrow hallway with a trifold screen in front of what would be the dining room and the entrance to the kitchen.  More food bowls, battery operated water fountains,
and a couple of greyhounds sprawled through the legs of the kitchen chairs. One of them rudely
interrupted from her nap as the owner pulled out the chair for me.

We sat and conversed and through the half hour or so, different cats paraded through the kitchen.
The parade was highlighted by two more dogs. 'WARNING, WARNING, LEAVE NOW, SAY NO",
said the voices in my head.

I didn't listen and took the job.  It haunts me still.

I don't know how I did it, but I did.

Every day, I cleaned and filled the dishes and bowls on the front porch.  Daily, I dutifully
cleaned and filled the dishes and bowls through out the house. I followed the recipes for the special needs animals.  I changed the litter boxes. I chased kittens over and through stacks of boxes and clothes in the hallways and bathtubs.  Exercising the dogs was an opportunity to remove myself from the stench inside.  They were grateful for the smell of anything but what was inside.

I became intimately acquainted with hiding places and crevices. I learned never to open a door without hindsight. I learned if i rang the doorbell, MOST of the inhabitants would appear, even briefly and I could take a head count.

The worst of it was the time I lost a kitten or she lost me AND it was in the room behind the trifold screen. I saw her go in. I removed the screen and knew my super powers would have to kick into overdrive. The boxes and stacks and towers of stuff had been in that room many years.  Dead plants
peeked through cracks in the chaos.  I saw the beginning of this hoard.  The innocent pile of daily papers and magazines had been relegated to the top of the side table.  That pile grew and competed for attention, finally giving up it's last breath to much bigger piles and stacks.

I walked toward a clearing, just big enough to stand up in if I didn't touch anything. Mews and meows came from behind something which was behind something else.  Inhaling and verifying I had my cell phone in my pocket, I hopscotched to another just big enough spot, swooped the kitten up and fell backwards, scattering stuff in all directions. If there had been a fire, it would be the end of this story.

I couldn't get leverage, I couldn't get to my knees but I had the kitten by the scruff of her neck.
Calmly thumb dialing the owner, I explained my predicament.  She was grateful I hadn't called the authorities or screamed for help.  I should have, I was dry drowning.

I was glad to see my client. I was glad to tell her I quit.

Driving away, I struggled with the urge to contact the SPCA.  That was the second time I didn't listen to the voices in my head.

It wasn't too many months later, that an article appeared in the newspaper.  An arrest had been made and the animals had been confiscated.

As for me, I am grateful that someone was watching out for them and...me.