My first pet sitting job fell in my lap when my neighbors Chuck and Betty came looking for dog care. They owned a zesty Shih Tzu named Dusty and didn’t mind paying someone to give her personal attention and several walks a day when they were out of town.
While they were away, their home’s AC broke down, so I installed a giant oscillating fan in the living room to survive the sweltering afternoons. On an impulse, I scooped Dusty up and stood in front of the fan, swaying gently. I wasn’t sure if she’d enjoy the direct breeze, but she didn’t squirm.
I set her down after a bit, but half an hour later she was back, standing at my feet, looking up hopefully. I repeated our cooling off routine, and from then on, she let me know whenever she needed a repeat of our refreshing drill.
Holding Dusty in my arms, relishing the satisfaction of providing her with exactly what I knew she wanted, at the exact moment she asked, was my first taste of the profound joy that can fill your heart when you live and bond with someone else’s dog. I’d shared many such moments with my own dogs over the years, but I hadn’t expected that thrilling flash of interspecies communication while I served as the temporary help.