The Dog Sitter

When raising my children, we had pets.  We sometimes took vacations.  But we never left our pets at any place that boarded animals.  Instead, we relied on the good neighbor who was willing to care for them in our absence.  We never agreed on payment.  But always we  rewarded the good deed with cash or souvenirs.  We appreciated what they did for us.  I always felt the pet would be better off not taken out of his/her known surroundings.

Today we don’t take many trips.  If do, they are generally no more than a day.  This makes leaving enough water and food out for a day sufficient.  With the constant turn-over of neighbors, we have not found someone to leave our pets in the hands of.  Have things and people changed that much?  I miss the connection of neighbor helping neighbor. Maybe it still is that way in some areas.  But it is not in mine.

We were a new subdivision in the mid-seventies.  It was fine homes with neighbors around the same age.  They all had young children.  But here it is 2012.  The house next door has sold five times or so.  There are renters and owners across the street, down the street, and up the street.   Only a few original owners remain.  Their children are all grown and away.  With foreclosures hitting our street as well, it hard to really know your neighbor.  Memories of a time when things were different seep through.  It was one such memory I call to mind.  It does deal with feeding a neighbor’s dog.  Briefly in time, I would become a dog sitter.

A neighbor asked me to feed her dog while she went on vacation.  She lived two houses up from me.  I was to get her mail daily. I would place the mail on a table at the front door when entering with the key she gave me.  I was to let Duchess outside in the morning and again in the evening.  I checked and made sure food and water was out.  I allowed Duchess outside long enough to take care of business.  She never left her yard.  When called, Duchess came running.  I had recently given birth to my son.  Since I did not work, I found this routine interfered with nothing.

Upon entering the house, I always stroked the fine coat of Duchess.  She was a beautiful Irish setter.  I almost hated leaving her alone at night.  But at the same time, I knew she would be fine in her own home.  She did meet me at the door in the morning with a wag of the tail.  I guess she did hate being left alone.  The neighbor had spoiled her so.  After all, the neighbor had no children.  Duchess was her baby.  I enjoyed my time with Duchess.

It was about a year later that the neighbor moved to Texas.  With her, went Duchess and my friendship with that neighbor.  I never heard from her again.  What makes this story one of memory is not that Duchess did anything heroic.  But I do still remember that one week.  Maybe it was not as much for the dog, but how things once were.   It was neighbor helping neighbor. That was my second time to dog sit.  I had done it once before when renting our first house.  But it was my last time to do so.   I contribute it to, “The changing times.”