Lucca was sweet from the moment we entered his home. He walked up to us and greeted us with a confident, “meow.” He then leaned into our hands like he was using an old familiar scratchpost. Lucca made us feel at home by feeling at home around us. It has by far been the warmest welcome we have yet to recieve on our seventeen month sabatical.
Lucca paws at you just so, insuring that you have to clamour back at him as he returns to all fours making you reach at that last possible moment. Lucca wants love, but also wants you to love him. Lucca furls his eyes when he disagrees with you, and softens them with slow blinks when he approves.
The home Lucca resides in holds a quiet peacefulness that seems to pair well with Luccas demeanor. He will lounge about with his eyes lazily falling about his surroundings only moving when his curiosity turns to the birds that fly about buzzing from one bird feeder to the other. We call it Cat TV, because Luccas eyes light up much like a kid’s eyes will when they are sucked into good cartoon.
It’s only day one, but I feel like this sit is going to be one of peaceful rebirth and rejuvination. I already feel like the space is good for me. The Lucca has chosen me as his lap buddy and the space just kind of feels like cool satin sheets as they touch your skin for the first time. I cant wait to see what the coming days will bring.
Have you ever had that feeling that a stranger is or has been in your house? Things just seem out of place or the air has a foreign quality to it. It was around three or four am when Rainie began walking on my slumbering form, a tactic she used to communicate her desire for the morning feeding. Rainie usually didn’t bother me until around Five AM, but I had been staring at the clock on and off for an hour anyway, and was more awake than asleep, so I got up and a started in on breakfast.
The routine usually consist of a third cup kibble, and the same amount of wet food in a separate dish, followed by a generous amount of treats.I was still groggy and half asleep when a the distinct sound of an animal coming through the cat door happened behind me. I turned around in time to see a gray blur sprint into the home. Our clients told us the neighbors had a cat named Chewy that was burgling Rainie’s food, but the audacity to do it when I was right there was almost unbelievable.
Melissa was sound asleep with the bedroom door cracked, and it was her birthday. I wanted to let her sleep, but Rainie was letting me know that the fat silver-gray aka Chewy, was not supposed to be in here. So here I am half done with preparing Rainie’s morning feast, Rainie is at the bottom of the stairs occasionally spitting out a low growl directed up the stairs where the burglar lay at the top step, not sure how to get himself out of the pickle he currently finds himself in.
I walk up the stairs shaking my finger, “You’re not suppose to be in here, Chewy.” I tried to say it with force without giving it to much volume, which only made it sound like I was hissing with Rainie.
Chewy, was plump, bordering on obese, and was wide eyed with terror. The heat from this caper was getting to high and with another burst of speed the grey tom zipped down the stairs with a growling Rainie in tow, insuring the cat burglar kept pace during his exodus.
Since then Rainie has been more vocal and interactive. I guess she feels like I chose her over the other Chewy. Rainie isn’t known for her affections, but that morning she made a point to snuggle up with Melissa and I. It was a great way to begin my wife’s birthday, a tale of two cats, a caper, and a high speed pursuit involving two felines and an unsuspecting sitter.
I wonder how your day started? For me, It was an adventure;Rainie and I thwarted a high stakes caper of kibble, and the promise of what is to come is still pouring forth. Have a blessed day and revel in how your day unfolds. In being grateful for the little things like this there is no end to what the day may bring.
What does that mean to you, looking for home? I think I have been looking myself. There is a quality you look for in the environment, an intangible sense of gain; everyone extending the bounty of richness to their neighbor. I personally believe that is how true wealth is created, by sharing it and therefore increasing that wealth as a community.
I have learned that the only way you get anything in this world is by a complete willingness to give it away. The people here, for the most part, have this intangible wealth and I want to be apart of that. This community has a real opportunity to become our home.
Woodworking expressed
The house we are sitting for is unique, the floor plan custom, and even the airflow from the central heating and cooling flows differently then other places we have stayed at. Craig and Jane were very welcoming; Jane took us on a grand tour of the the surrounding area; Craig showed me his craftsman side with his talent for making wooden bowls, sculptures and even a high fluted goblet meant more for sipping something potent or rich than regular fare.
The craftsman’s trophies
It’s only day one, but Rainie, our charge, is regale in demeanor, and has been willing to share space with us and the next morning she visited us in bed for first contact petting. Rainie has her own chair, that Jane and Craig have also allowed to become a makeshift scratch-post. Say what you will, it works, none of the other furniture is ever bothered with. That’s surprising to me because there is an abundance of wooden furniture throughout the house. Rainie also distinguishes herself by having thumbs that are in fact functional.
Rainie
Even on my first day, even with the introductions, which can be clumsy at times, I felt at peace in Jane and Craig’s home. Bookshelf’s are found throughout the house, with a wide variety of topics. Pictures too; Jane has this collage of Craig and Jane’s lift tickets from all the years they skied, and by the looks of it, they have been doing this most of their life. Craig felt Jolly in these various screen shots of his life, and Jane had this fierceness in her eyes.
During our tour of the local neighborhood, I noticed the people here seem to have good shoes, and equipment, and it’s more rare to see an obese person than not to. All in all Bend Oregon seems a good fit for balanced purposeful living.
What gifts they extended to us! When you receive little gold nuggets like that, how can you not be tempted to settle down and add to the community? We don’t have to live in a constant state of competition, We can choose to live by extension sharing everything, including our intangibles, with everyone else.
I will be walking through some fear and doubt; questions of how to practically generate income while also fulfilling this need for freedom. I want to make a living writing because I love doing it. I have some serious doubts that haunt me, but that’s not going to stop me. Jane has given me some pointers on where to start and I am going to give it a real go to become part of this community. I remain hopeful that faith and Love will overcome any obstacle, including fear and doubt. I just met these people, and what a gift they have given us. I know what happiness and fierceness is and I learned it from a couple we met in Bend Oregon. I was looking for home, and think I just found it.
If you have never traveled house to house, place to place, you might not even know what home really feels like. Without contrast of experience I’m not sure you could honorably describe home. We have been to many locales and all of them had elements Melissa and I are looking for, but this is the first place that feels like an old pair of worn in jeans. It just fits. We tried leaving before, moving to other pet sits, but here we are, again, and we didn’t force it either, fate or God has been guiding us, and it has felt as much because of that effortlessness.
Pippa is a 4 year old greyhound canine, but if that was all I said about her I would be allowing a tragedy of untold proportions. I was once told they were nervous creatures with an abundance of energy, bordering on the reckless. I never actually met a greyhound until my time in Portland while pet sitting.
Pippa is inquisitive, so much so that she notices her own shadow, and attempts to smell it. Does this not make her a philosopher? Where is wonder born? I see wonder in her, and the fact that she is a dog doesn’t seem to matter. Her soul feels just like mine, and I am really starting to wonder if there is a difference.
Yah, she is a dog, I see the being and call it dog, but is that a fair assessment? I see more. I’m not a fool, I know I could be projecting human traits on this animal, but I contemplated that possibility and have come to the conclusion that I’m not doing that. I see more. I see and feel love not just for her, but from her. As if just being closer to her has made love stronger, for loves sake.
That sounds like some 60’s hip shit, but that’s what it felt like. She has goofy little nuances; such as when we went into town Pippa took two pairs of shoes and proceeded to place them in all the places she frequented; Melissa’s side of the bed, the back-door and Pippa’s bed. We don’t even know where she found the other pair of shoes, but it feels like a coping mechanism, similar to a child and a blanket.
Pippa is calm, when on a leash, but off the leash she runs like the wind, usually running circles around her other four-legged friends. She does in fact have a few in the neighborhood that frequent the same park where she has the opportunity to run free. She seems to miss them when we go too many days without seeing them. Not to mention how her shoulders slump when Pippa realizes that we are nearing the end of our walk.
Pippa is most definitely one of kind, just like we are one of kind. I am glad to have met her and I am better for meeting her. I don’t really know how feels about me, but she adores Melissa. If you question my findings, maybe you should give pet sitting a go. Experience is our true teacher, and mine has been very enlightening.
This was like meeting a piece of yourself, gentle and long forgotten. This world is about Forgiveness, whether that be Attachment or something else. That can be heavy at times, but this was sweet and light. We bonded rather easily in the one evening that we shared with Nora.
On a fundamental level, the three of us were on the same mission, united in the goal to rediscovering ourselves. We had come to the same conclusion, in that we valued Peace. Nora prepared an elegant but simple cuisine; chicken, green beans and brown rice. All of it was covered with a Mediterranean style of seasoning.
We were a mere three-quarter mile from the Pacific Ocean, convenient harbor access right down the street, a seafood restaurant and hotels with beach access in the immediate five minute drive. A big bonus given I prefer less populated locales. In the San Francisco area, the Half-Moon Bay community felt like a small town despite the close proximity.
The Beach at Half-Moon Bay
Nora, Melissa and I hit it off almost from the beginning, finding deep connection and a warm desire to help one another along our journeys. Hippy on the other hand wasn’t such an easy sell. He was impressed that I called him by name on our first meeting. To be perfectly honest, so was I. Hippy hid under the bed for the majority of the next day, but the evening after Dinner Nora and I watched the Newshour on PBS. It was the first time Hippy and I had physical contact, where butt-scratches where well-received.
Butt scratches…
The Next day Hippy was blockaded and made to share space with his new humans. The good feline was used to being able to wander outdoors, but a plan was devised to keep him in for the first twenty-four hours, that he may bond with us. Hippy was a long-haired fluffy-kitty, with fur that marbled in reddish brown, black, and white. He also apparently was the champion of holding it when faced with the possibility of having to use the litter box.
Hippy sunning on the deck railing.
The next morning Hippy was given his customary five am breakfast, where he nibbled a little kibble before demanding release. It wasn’t quite dawn yet so he demanded for twenty more minutes. I relented just then because I felt bad for the little guy; I was pretty sure he hadn’t gone pee yet so I opened the beach facing sliding-glass door and he was off, leaping in super-kitty fashion to his much needed relief.
Hippy enjoying our bed
Little did we know, Hippy was much more dissatisfied than we realized. He was supposed to be in by dark. We didn’t see him until four AM the next morning. Nora was trying to help, coaching us through it with what has worked before to get Hippy to come in. There was whispered concern that the night brought with it predators, and it wasn’t necessarily safe. We took shifts, waking up every few hours; it was like having a new born, nursing that connection we knew Hippy needed to feel safe. We would go to he back door and call his name with soft even tones, like a siren beckoning Hippy home through the early morning fog.
At around four A.M. Hippy appeared wet, hoarse, and obviously exhausted from what must have been an interesting evening . After that he loved us. I felt like we were tested, and given the kitty paw of approval. The next morning we let him out and he was back by two P.M.
Nora was happy to hear that Hippy had finally bonded with us. She could focus on her business without worrying about her furry companion. Melissa and Myself took the opportunity to walk the local beach and pier, fantasizing about living on boat doing what we do for shoreline and island communities up down the pacific.
The Joy…
Pet-sitting has been a spiritually enriching experience that is allowing me to meet so many me pieces of myself. We may be dressed in bodies, and given these identities, but everyone one of them has a place of peace deep within them. I seek that in everyone I meet, I’m still learning how to best do that, but I’m doing it. Since Nora was striving for the same goal it was effortless to connect with her. Love cannot deny Love.
Nora has informed us that she came home to a content and loved Hippy. It was good to hear that our fur-friend had also found some peace. I was able to rest here. You cannot say that about all of my life. They say our outer world is a reflection of our inner world. I work hard to ensure that my inner world is at peace, Nora and Hippy, being a reflection of that world, have shown me that it is a worthwhile pursuit. I hope that I have done the same.
Suzi is a 17-year-old professional weight lifter. That’s what I thought when I first met the canine we were sitting for in Vinton, Virginia. This dog walked around like an old Yoda until you pulled out the leash. Then, in Yoda fashion, Suzi bounced around as if she was possessed by the force itself.
It was quite apparent to me why Suzi was all muscle about twenty steps into our first walk; my legs were on fire, and it felt like I was a mile and a half into a run, Suzi wasn’t even panting yet.
Suzi wanting more walk
The entire neighborhood was built on the side of a mountain. I swear some of the roads were tilted damn near twenty degrees. I decided then, I loved mountains, but that my home would be built on flatter land.
This low-lander, a week into our stay at this pet sit, has finally begun to adjust to the higher altitude and degree of incline. What stood out most about this particular neighborhood, was the tight-knit cohesiveness of the people within it. It seemed everyone in the mountainside community knew who we were, and more impressively they knew Suzi by name. Evidenced by at least two other walkers, strangers to us, that called out to Suzi as we walked by.
This is a weird bubble of reality, that would be welcome around the world as far as I’m concerned. It is unusual in this disconnected world we live in today, and I hope I see more if it in the coming house/pet sits that we venture to.
Deer in the backyard
The herd of deer that wanders through the back yard never gets old, either. The wildlife here is wondrous if you take the time to notice it. The bird species are so numerous, with Cardinals and Finches with amazing plumes of color varying from blue, red, purple, and even yellow. I find myself becoming an avid bird watcher, something as a child I would secretly jeer my grandmother for being. Do wonders never cease?
Michael woke up face to face to Oscar the cat, purring a mere two inches from his face.
Oscar the Cat
Michael gently shewed oscar to the foot of the bed mumbling, “It’s not time yet, the coffee hasn’t even brewed.”
Michael rolled leaving the customary spot between his scissored legs for Oscar the cat to lay, waiting for the coming aroma and beeps to stir his servants to the inevitable task of preparing his breakfast.
Michael laid with one hand over his wife’s waist, when the floorboards creaked a few feet from the bed as if a child was attempting to tiptoe away but was betrayed by his weight. Michael perked up, but remained motionless, not wanting whatever was there to be spooked by his alertness.
Michael mentally checked all the sounds: Melissas’ rhythmic breathing, Oscar the cats’ purring, and Snook the Dogs’ snoring. With all the possible sources accounted for Michael opened up his mind, searching for the veiled presence, but that front was quiet as well. all his senses were searching for the source of the noise, waiting for the house to betray whoever visited their bedside, when the trickle of the coffee maker and the aroma of morning crept into the bedroom.
Whatever it was, it was gone. Snook was now awake, huffing and puffing in his bed, fighting his need to pee, Oscar was creeping back up to Michaels’ face to insist on breakfast, and with the coffee maker hard at work, Michael decided to get up and start his morning. Hoping his eyes wouldn’t fall on a would-be intruder, for which they didn’t.
While peeing, Michael decided the best way to feed the pets was to bribe his love, Melissa, with coffee, and coax her into feeding Oscar and Snook, something that he normally did, but for whatever reason didn’t want to today. Michael Silently justified his manipulation with the fact that it was his turn to clean the chicken coops.
Not nearly enough coffee was consumed, but the sun began to crest the over the treetops, beckoning the need to release the chickens from the coop, and to tend to their nightly refuse. It was Michael’s least favorite chore, but he only had to do it every other day, and besides, these chickens laid the biggest eggs he has ever seen, so Michael thought it was the least he could do.
Snook did his best to sneak away while Michael and Melissa set out the water, scratch, and pellets, but Melissa called him back, “I’m watching you, c,mon get back here.” It wasn’t long before we were heading into the forest for Snook’s customary walk.
A mere minute passed when four deer scampered across our path, just ahead of us. Snook growled and stomped a few feet ahead of us, ensuring that the deer knew just who’s forest they trespassed on. We continued on our path, which took us alongside the river.
Snook picked up what must have been the scent of the deer we roused earlier, and decided he was going to track them across the river. This old hound jumped into the ice water barely touching the bottom with his tip toes all the way across.
Melissa realizing what was happening tried to stop what was evolving before her eyes, “Snook, no. I hope you can swim, I’m not going in after you.”
Michael thought to himself, “That means I’m gonna have to”
Snook tiptoed back across once he realized we weren’t as committed to the task of finding the culprits that trespassed on his territory. Both Michael and Melissa silently let out the breath they didn’t know they were holding when Snook was back on their side of the river bank.
Snook was proud of himself, strutting in a full trot the rest of the walk, leading the way like a naive child with a wooden sword, ready to face anything. Michael couldn’t help but smile at the confidence the dip in the icy river infused Snook with.
The walk finished in customary fashion with Michael and Melissa talking about their dreams. They let snook in the house, despite half of Snooks body still wet from the swim, silently wondering if the house cleaner, scheduled to come the following day, was going to be angry with them for that them for that decision.
Michael cooked a hearty breakfast of sausage patties, those glorious eggs they collected every day, which they soaked up with buttered and jammed toast.
It was a wonderful beginning to another day at the homestead on the Piedmont; Michael would write in his blog, and Melissa would work towards her doctorate. Together, they basked in another blessed day.
Snook is
a twelve-year-old dog with a gentle yet grumbly demeanor and Oscar is an eleven-year-old
cat that is comfortably overweight, with a mournful and complaintive meow that simultaneously
cries out for his usual humans, while begrudgingly requesting love from the pet
sitters.
Let’s
not forget the eight chickens, all with names related to the plume, heritage,
or behavior of their respective breed. It is only day two of our house and pet
sit so you will forgive me if I don’t regale their names just yet.
As a Pet/House
sitter, you get a feel early on of the people you are working for through the
care and maintenance of both the animals and the property. It seems as if the land
protects or even harbors the inhabitants here. It’s obvious that this garden of
peace and compassion was tended to with fierceness and intent.
The land
naturally sits as sentry around the house and horse pens; being surrounded by a
wooded glen on all sides, within the wood a River runs the length of one side
of the property, and a lazy creek runs throughout the woods feeding the river
at various points. It is truly a nursery where both animal and man come together
in harmony.
Horses
give purpose to the entire property, the owners being avid riders, the chickens
lay eggs and in return they are housed comfortably and fed to their delight,
not to mention that even after they reach an age where they would be considered
useless for egg laying, they are cared and tended to until they die of old age.
They don’t stay cooped up either, we let them out every day and every day they
roam the property stuffing their little beaks with whatever morsel they find.
Oscar the Cat is still warming up to his new caretakers, but we have already impressed his owners with pictures of pettings and such, something they were sure would be unlikely. Oscar wanted to go outside, so I told him, the only way he is getting out of this house is if he let me pet him. Oscar didn’t waste any time; without missing a beat he walked right over to me and rubbed on my leg and allowed me to pet him with vigor. Being a man of my word, I was forced to let him out even though there was some question whether he would return to the home, with us being so foreign to his environment.
So, on a
cold rainy night, with my partner in life protesting, I let Oscar out of the
home.
“I gave
that cat my word”, I said.
She knew that I wasn’t going to budge,
so she crossed her arms and said, “You’re not going to bed until that cat comes
back inside.”
An hour
later Oscar was back inside, realizing his lost humans were not somehow locked out
of the house.
Snook, the Canine of the family didn’t realize something was amiss, until that night, when we cozied up in his humans’ bed. He became visibly depressed, after which we assured him that they would be back and that we were just here to love on him until they did indeed return. It wasn’t until his morning walk, the next day, in the cold monsoon, did realize we would keep his routine intact. He was very happy to trounce through the rain and even had to be scolded to keep away from the swollen river bank, as the river was swift and possibly dangerous if he were to fall in.
Overall, the first two days have been exciting and exhilarating. It is going to be a pleasure filling the shoes of such compassionate people. I look forward to the days to come.
Couples work better, when they work together. You’re going to have to make that call when choosing your sitter-couple. If they trip over each other, or they micro-manage and nip at each other, then you need to keep looking.
During the interview process, don’t give them bad marks for interrupting each other, but pay attention to the vibes between them when those interruptions occur. Are they building off each other after the interruption, or are they attempting to have two separate conversations? Are they responding as a team or are they competing to respond?
There is an energy between couples that rev’s like an engine when they are in sync, and stalls out when they are at odds; they either cancel each other out, or worse, the energy becomes hostile or explosive.
Our pets can feel that energy, and you want them surrounded by a harmonious couple. If you’re in a turbulent relationship yourself, then you maybe gauge the sitters by asking yourself do I want what they have, regarding their chemistry? If the answer is no, then keep looking. There are numerous couples out there doing the pet sitting thing, so it’s a choosers market.
Us during a pet sitter interview
We use TrustedHousesitters: the sitters there are free, when it comes to out of pocket expenses. All you do is continue to pay your bills while they stay in your house and love on your Furbabies. Sometimes there are agreements made on the side, like stipends for food and basic necessities, but that is done on a case-by-case basis and is independent of the website.
Couples in general make better long-term sitters; doing the same thing day in and day out can slowly become joyless for the solitary sitter, but when you have another person to alternate the daily responsibilities it makes each day new and fresh. Except that’s not the whole of it, there are the chemistries of the Furbabies to consider as well.
You see the
animals, cats in this case, usually pick who their favorites are, and while it
may have somewhat to do with who feeds them, or cleans the litter boxes, it
usually has more to do with what roles we fulfill within their social
structure.
Momo for instance, has come to expect me to be his hunting trainer, and exclusively asks me to run him through the motions with the Jangle-on-a-stick. Melissa has tried, but about three minutes in, Momo looks up at her with disapproval before he walks away. On the other hand, if Momo wants to cuddle, knead his blankie against softness, or be comforted after he was just sprayed for getting in the plants, he goes to Melissa.
Momo after his play session
If there was just one sitter, the cats in this case, would still have the same needs; being adaptable, they would make do, but making do isn’t what we’re striving for. We want the best.
The morning usually begins with a scratching at the bedroom door. I can usually tell who is scratching, and by the type of scratch, what is needed and by whom. This process was learned over the days and weeks of the sit, and was in sense, a form of language that developed over time.
At first the scratches were a list of demands; as if to say, “This is how it is humans. Your behavior needs to change or life cannot go on.” These scratches were loud, deep, and long; usually a combination of two of the three Furbabies.
Momo
Momo, the youngest of the trio, is by far the most inquisitive and intelligent. Being raised by a conglomerate of cats and dogs, he had the advantage of a multicultural upbringing. He is the philosopher and great thinker of the group. Always questioning the how and why of things. He would look down into the toilet as it flushes, and tilt is head as if to question, “Where does this water go, and how does it come back?”
Momo demands at least three play sessions where he plays fetch with his jangle-on-a-stick. If you do not play with him, he will proceed to pick up the jangle-on-a-stick by the stick end, and then attack the jangle end like a child playing pretend. I was honored to watch him discover just how the stick animated the jangle. His inquisitiveness and higher than average intelligence has made me question the origin of kitties altogether.
Momo spends the rest of his time practicing martial arts with his elder brother Puffin, and thoroughly terrorizing his older sister, who barely tolerates him with disdainful hisses. Ending his day with Zen like reflection.
Puffin deciding my fate
Momo’s brother, Puffin, is a creature of simpler pleasures; he has thoroughly fallen in love with my wife. Sometimes I catch him touching her with intimacy, while looking at me with murderous intent. I return the gaze with a smirk, and somehow he manages to look away with hubris, giving him the win regarding our non-verbal exchange. When Melissa ceases her petting, he puts a paw on her chest, reminding her that it is he that decides when the loving stops. Puffin loves pizza like Garfield loves lasagna. If we have it, we must share, or he protests with almost sad retort.
Wicket being cute, a truly rare site
Wicket, the only female of the group, while only being two years old, has the feel of a brittle old lady. She has made it clear that she hates men, no matter the species. In the six weeks that I have been here I can count on one hand the times that she has let me pet her. She has one need, food. When it isn’t met in a time that wicket finds acceptable, she protests with vigor and volume to Melissa. I am looked at from afar with curiosity, but I am not worthy of communion.
The three Furbabies of the Blue Ridge Mountains have accepted us, in one form or another, and we have become a pride of sorts. Momo has claimed me has his, Puffin has claimed Melissa, and Wicket has been kind enough to allow us to share space. It will be hard to say goodbye when our time is up at this sit, but I have learned so much from them. Momo has taught me courage, Puffin has taught me confidence, and Wicket has taught me acceptance.
The Adventures of the Traveling Philosopher 