I work for a pet-sitting and house-sitting company, and I had a new client on my schedule to take care of a dog for two weeks, three visits a day.

When I got to the house and went in, I saw a kid and thought the family must be running late leaving and hadn’t let us know.

Me: *To the kid* “Hi! It’s okay; don’t be scared.”

Then, I called out for the parents.

Kid: “They’re gone.”

Me: “What do you mean?”

Kid: “You need to hurry up and make my breakfast and take me to school!”

Me: “What do you mean? Where are your parents?”

Kid: “They’re gone on their trip. Hurry up; I’m hungry!”

Me: “How old are you?”

Kid: “Seven.”

Me: “And your parents left you here alone?”

Kid: “Yeah. My mom told me you’d be by in the morning to make me breakfast and take me to school, in the afternoon to pick me up from school and make me a snack, and at night to make me supper.”

Me: “Where’s [Dog], the dog?”

Kid: “We don’t have a dog.”

Me: “When my boss came to meet your parents and get the house keys, she met a dog.”

Kid: “Oh, my mom borrowed the neighbor’s dog.”

OMG. I called the company owner and told her what was going on. Of course, she was flabbergasted and came over immediately. She tried to get ahold of the kid’s parents, but they weren’t answering their phones, so she called CPS [Child Protective Services] and explained everything when they arrived. CPS took the kid, got the parents’ information, and left.

The next day, the kid’s mom called the owner and left a rambling, screaming message.

Mom: “How could you turn my kid into CPS?! You broke our contract! We’re going to sue you for that! And we’re going to sue you for the cost of our ruined vacation!”

The owner called them back and told them that our agreement was to take care of a dog, not a kid, and that what they’d done was illegal anyway. She also pointed out that borrowing a dog for her to meet for the client meeting was deliberate misrepresentation, so good luck with a lawsuit.

She hasn’t heard from them since. I guess our pet-sitting service was cheaper than hiring someone to watch the child properly. We still can’t understand how this woman thought this would actually work.

Related:
Some Parents Are Way Too Comfortable Leaving Their Kids With Strangers, Part 3
Some Parents Are Way Too Comfortable Leaving Their Kids With Strangers, Part 2
Some Parents Are Way Too Comfortable Leaving Their Kids With Strangers

As the pet parent of a senior mutt (at least fifteen years old) with extreme separation anxiety, a heart murmur, and several other conditions that require a small pharmacy’s worth of medications twice a day, I have difficulty finding adequate care for her whenever I want to go out for an extended period of time, especially if that time overlaps with her dosing schedule. Most dog sitters refuse to take her. She’s very well-behaved and gets along great with other critters and people, but she gives strangers the worst time when getting her meds; you name the trick, and she’s beaten it.

I found one angel who, while almost twice the cost of most others, has no problem with my doggo, and my doggo has no problem with her, so I’m getting what I’m paying for, and I’m thankful for it.

However, my angel does have her own life and isn’t always available when I need her, so sometimes I have to use a backup. I had one girl who I thought was a great fit. “Doggo” has spent several successful visits with her in the past, but this last one has me rethinking future visits. 

I told “Sitter B” that I needed to drop Doggo off at a specific time, so I could be at my destination by another specific time. I arrived at her door, Doggo and her assorted supplies in hand, and rang the doorbell. No response. I waited a few minutes and rang again. Still no response. I banged on the door. Again, silence. I went back and forth between ringing and banging for about fifteen minutes to no avail. 

After another five minutes, during which I rang, banged, and called the number on file several times with no results, I took a chance and tried the door — and was surprised to find it unlocked. The home is one of those tall, skinny, three-story townhouses, so I wandered around with Doggo, calling out Sitter B’s name, only to be met with more silence.

On the third floor, I called out once more and was shocked to see an older man in a black T-shirt and underpants — and that’s it — coming out of a bedroom, looking very sleepy and confused. This turned out to be Sitter B’s father, who had no clue what was going on. The poor man called out a name — different than Sitter B’s — to a closed door, and when he also was met with silence, he opened the door. 

I could see how dark it was inside the other room, lit only by a computer monitor, and no fewer than four other dogs came bouncing out to greet us, much to my and Doggo’s surprise and chagrin. Sitter B finally emerged from the darkness. She said the doorbell was broken, her father calls her by her middle name, and she’d never heard the knocking or her phone’s notifications because she’d had headphones on. 

I don’t like to be confrontational, so I tried to impress upon her how really bad this whole thing was. She showed no hint of remorse as she walked us downstairs, but she finally apologized as she took possession of Doggo and her stuff.

(I know, I should have walked out right then and there, but I had no other options. Name the option, I didn’t have it; otherwise, I would have taken it). 

Thankfully, Doggo was fine, fed, and medicated, when I picked her up the next morning, but I’m currently in the market for a new “Sitter B.”

I’m picking up my dog from daycare.

Me: “Hi, I’m here to pick up [Dog].”

Worker: “Okay, and can I confirm breed and color?”

I provide that information but also say:

Me: “You should have that information on file. What happened?” *Laughs* “Did you misplace him?”

The worker looks embarrassed.

Me: “Wait… you’re kidding?”

Worker: “Well, we didn’t misplace any… per se?”

They look like they’re about to continue, but instead, they leave that statement just hanging.

Me: “Aaaaand?!”

Worker: “Well, someone left the side door open to the play area, and some of them got out into the street. We managed to get them all back in, though!”

Me: “Oh… that’s worrying, but I’m glad you got them all back.”

Worker: “But afterward, we ended up with more dogs than when we started, so we’re double-checking with clients.”

Me: “…”

I did not take my dog back there again!

In my first job at a dog kennel, we had a regular client who brought her dog literally every day we were open for daycare and had for years before I started. On my first holiday there, she got a headcount of all the employees working and got us all scratch lottery tickets, some homemade schnitzel, and some fancy ginger ale. There were enough scratch tickets for each employee to get one.

Well, methinks the assistant manager had a gambling problem because, instead of handing out everyone their ticket, she went into the office and scratched them all herself.

Assistant Manager: “We’ll all enter our names into a drawing, and one person will get to win the grand prize of all the ticket winnings put together!”

It ended up being only like $16 or so, not even a full $20, but we were all incredibly salty about how she had handled that.

It was a while ago, so I don’t remember if the regular client found out. [Assistant Manager] never did that again in the subsequent years I worked there, so I think someone up front mentioned that it wasn’t worth doing again.

One summer, I worked at a “hotel and day spa for dogs and cats”. You think they’re just being cute, but you could take your dog in for a massage, and only certain people were qualified to give dogs massages. (I was not one of them.)

The cheapest “suite” was $55 a night, and they went up to $135 a night, which got your dog a TV (tuned to Animal Planet or home videos), four walks a day (instead of three), a place on the rotunda that looked out into the office park, and a webcam so you could check in on your pets while on vacation.

Of course, we had some people that required bottled water for their pets, which they had to provide themselves. We even had one group of dogs that were accompanied on their stay by a small, wooden box containing the ashes of another dog!

However, my favorite was this one woman.

Customer: “I’d also like to request the special water for smaller dogs.”

Me: “I’m sorry, ma’am, but we don’t have anything like that.”

Customer: “I saw online that you had special water for smaller dogs! My dog is small, and I want him to have the special water!

I pulled up the website and read it.

Me: “Ma’am, the website says that we have special water dishes for smaller dogs, and I can, of course, ensure that your dog gets one of those.”

Customer: “You just changed that! You’re just being lazy! I want the special water for my dog! You just don’t like smaller dogs!”

After a few minutes of debate, my coworker overheard us and went to fill up a bowl with said “special water”, which happened to be very similar to tap water from the kitchen. She placed it next to the dog, who started lapping it up.

Customer: “There you go! Was that so hard?”

She paid and left her dog with us.

Me: *To my coworker* “Isn’t that technically lying?”

Coworker: “Did you hear me say anything to the customer?”

Me: “No… Oh! Very clever!”

Coworker: “Sometimes you just have to let them wear themselves out…”

Related:
H2-Slow, Part 26
H2-Slow, Part 25
H2-Slow, Part 24
H2-Slow, Part 23
H2-Slow, Part 22