pet sitter travels in unmarked car

The holiday season is busy for pet sitters. Sometimes people ask me why our family never travels around this time of year, and I have to remind them that this is when everyone else travels; it's when I'm most needed. I know that other pet sitters are busy, too, because I see them on the road several times a day as we all weave our spider web route around town, feeding, walking and loving.

How do I know when I see those other pet sitters? They drive marked cars. Their windows and doors say "Tricia's Critters," "Joan's Pet Sitting," and "Charlie's Canines" (actual company names have been changed so that I don't get sued or advertise for the competition). 

I make my visits in stealth mode in an unmarked vehicle. 

So why does this matter?

Whether or not to advertise on your vehicle is a choice we all must make. I choose not to for one reason: the security of my clients. 

photo source: weheartit.com

There are bad guys out there who scope out houses for UPS packages, newspaper pileup, and other clues of absence, especially around the holidays. Imagine when they see a car visiting a home three times a day, and that car says "so-and-so's pet sitting service." It doesn't take a genius to figure out that the only family who needs a pet sitter is a family who isn't home and doesn't plan to be for a while. All the bad guy has to do is observe the pet sitter coming and going a few times to get the pattern and realize that the home will be vacant for a few hours between visits. More than enough time to clean the place out. 

That being said, I have been tempted, myself, to put my logo and contact information on my car. It's an excellent way to advertise in your service area, and, when asked, pet sitters report that their vehicle advertisements are one of the top ways they gain new clients. The cost is minimal, and it lasts a long time. The gift that keeps on giving.

I always strive for quality over quantity, and when I tell my clients that I drive an unmarked car, it's a selling point for me. Some have never even thought of the security risk of a pet sitter who advertises on their vehicle.

Like anything else, there are pros and cons to advertising your pet sitting business on your car. If you're a pet sitter, why or why don't you advertise on your vehicle? And if you've hired a pet sitter, is this something you consider or care about?

I can't wait to hear your thoughts, but, for now, I'm back in stealth mode. I've got some pups and cats to see! 

my birds

I know. Shocking, right? All this time, and I've never even mentioned my birds.

Well, here they are:

Oh, yeah, and an elf. That's Cha-dee. Don't mind him.

So, what's the story? Well, I am going to use this post as a bit of a confession: I absolutely hated these birds when I was a teenager, and even into my early 20's. Especially the tree topper. Let's talk about that.

It's all styrofoam inside. Green velvet on the outside, and golden glitter eyes, beak, wings, and tail. And it has some red rhinestone eyes. Yeah. My dad called it the "Christmas Dove" like it was something special, and he'd lift me up each year to put it on top of the tree. It was the last ornament, always the crowning glory. 

And, then, let's discuss the Christmas Dove's friends. Those white and red guys with the wiry plastic tails. And the way they sit on the branches? You have to wrap a gold wire around and around and around each branch. Totally old school, right?

As a youngster, I just thought they were weird. Even though I was an animal lover inside the womb, all I wanted atop the Christmas tree was a glorious, fancy angel like all my friends had. I felt like a classless Christmas nerd for our green velvet bird tree topper. And I wanted to replace the little red and whites with expensive glass orbs. There were even a few years that I didn't put those guys on the tree. But my dad always snuck a few on. I rolled my eyes, time and time again.

The year my father passed away is when I realized their value. 

He passed away in the late summer of 2002, just weeks before our wedding. My mother passed away in the summer of 1984, so my dad was my everything, and his passing was hard to take. The following Christmas meant a lot, in terms of ornaments. I adorned our first tree as a married couple with the ornaments my parents put on their first Christmas tree together. They were married in 1971, and that's when the birds first appeared on the tree, and so it was every year after, despite my shallow hormonal protests. My dad made sure of it.

So I'm making sure these ornaments stay on our tree every year. And now it's my husband who lifts our children up to place the Christmas Dove atop the tree. 

Veteran's Day in the eyes of the children of a pet sitter

This past Monday was Veteran's Day, and though our family didn't officially give thanks in a formal way, we went on a long hike, and we talked about the meaning of the day with our littles, Porter, our six-year-old son, and Campbell, our four-year-old daughter. We wanted them to understand that it was more than just a day off school.

We didn't go into great detail. A fact that was brought to my attention by the conversation they had in the car on the way to school Thursday:

Campbell: I can't wait for show and tell at school today! I'm so excited!

Porter: Why? What are you sharing?

Campbell: I'm sharing my veterinarian game!

Porter: Oh, that's cool. Is it "V" day at school?

Campbell: (sighing) No, Po! It's for Veterinarian's Day, o'course!

Porter: Cam, you're too late for that. It was last Monday.

Campbell: Well, I didn't have school on Monday, and Thursday is show and tell day, so I'm sharing it today. 

Porter: Well, you're really late, because Veterinarian's Day was on Monday.

It then sunk in. They had no idea about Veteran's Day, and probably were under the impression that all the veterinarians in the U.S.A. were out fighting for our freedom. And that all of the veterinarians in the past had fought for our independence and rights. They know all about the sacrifices veterinarians make for their families, and how some even die for our country. 

They probably wondered who was taking care of all the sick animals.

It took me about three different explanations to untether a veteran and a veterinarian in their minds, and I'm honestly not sure I was successful. They probably just told me "we get it" so that I'd shut up about the whole confusing mess. This is what happens when your mom is a pet sitter. 

So on behalf of our family, however belated, I'd like to send out a big THANK YOU to all of our veterans...and veterinarians. 

seeing #Blackfish

I wrote a few months back about anticipating the release of Blackfish, the documentary about Tilikum, a killer whale captured, then raised in captivity. I must admit, though I'd committed to myself to see it, I let it come and go through the local theaters, thinking of excuses as solid as the ones I use when I skip my workout. It was when I saw it advertised on television that CNN would be premiering the film that I realized if I wasn't going to the film, it was coming to me. I set the DVR.

It sat in my feed for a couple of days, then yesterday I mustered up the courage and pushed aside denial.

I expected the film to be centered only around the treatment of killer whales and their lives in captivity–why they shouldn't be in captivity. It was about that, but it was equally about the cover-up by Sea World, mainly, of, not only known concerns about the animals, but about the safety of their trainers. The trainers who universally loved the animals and who built close emotional relationships with them were often kept in the dark and lied to about the reality of the situation they were central to. This was news to me.

I grew up going to Sea World, San Diego at least a couple of times a year. As I mentioned in my previous post about Blackfish, it wasn't until I was halfway through college that I changed the course of my career from that of a killer whale trainer. What the Blackfish interviews captured from the trainers about how they got started was exactly how I felt. There is just this magnificent wonder. There is a burning desire to be near these animals.

But even if one doesn't go so far as to become a killer whale trainer, there is still the magic of being in their presence that can't be denied. Few of us have the means to go to the native waters of these pods of killer whales, so, instead, we go to Sea World, where we can view them close-up in a seemingly controlled environment and score ourselves a hot dog and a stuffed toy in the process. Good ol' family fun. But at what cost?

If you want to know the answer to that question, see Blackfish, which, here in the U.S. is currently being shown on CNN and is available for order on DVD. I'm not one to cry out boldly about politics and sensitive issues, as I have friends, family, and colleagues on both extremes of the political spectrum. I have close friends who frequent Sea World with their families. I see their treasured photos with Shamu on Facebook. If you're one of those people, I'm not going to turn on you. I believe you don't know. Because if you did, you wouldn't be so proud of those photos. See Blackfish.

It's akin to my philosophy about eating meat. I'm not going go shun you for doing it. Heck, I'm an almost-vegan who enjoys a beef burger every so often. I get it. But know where your meat comes from. Make an educated choice, not one in denial. See Blackfish before you go back to Sea World.

I practically grew up at Sea World. Though I haven't been back since my college days, I could still probably navigate the park with a blindfold on. It was like a second home. If I can say good-bye to it, so can you.

My kids (age six and four) watched Blackfish with me. Yes, it upset them, but that's okay. I want them to know the truth and be able to make their own decisions. I paused the film (thank goodness for the DVR) in several spots to help them understand. A few minutes into the film, they asked, "so we can never go to Sea World?" At the end of the film, my four-year-old daughter declared, "we'll never go to Sea World because it's not okay to treat the killer whales like that. It's wrong." My six-year-old son sat there in silence with his head down.

And that sums it up. It's okay for them to know the truth. And it's okay for you to know it, too. See Blackfish.

You can check out the trailer, here: [youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w2vG_Ifu4zg&w=560&h=315]

okay...so now I want a pet tarantula

No joke. We did the coolest thing after school yesterday! Our local library hosted a session with Travis Potts, local "Spider Man." Not the kind that swings from building to building rescuing damsels in distress and battling villains, but a hero to the public, just the same. He's a tarantula fanatic, and he brought his pets to share with us.

I have a morbid fascination with spiders. I think they are super creepy, but, yet, I can't take my eyes off of them. Kind-of like a train-wreck. And there's Charlotte. Who doesn't love Charlotte? Spiders are completely enchanting. So when we heard that there were going to be spiders at the library, I was completely pumped. Porter, my six-year-old son, was excited, too. And Campbell, my four-year-old daughter, told me she didn't want to go, but I made her, anyway, and when they opened the door to allow us to approach the spiders, she shriveled and cried, but, because I'm such an awesome mom, I drug her in. Yeah, I suck a little. SPOILER ALERT: She lived. And she loved it.

Travis brought four live tarantulas, and we got to view them and ask questions.

He shared all sorts of information about them that I didn't quite absorb because I was keeping my eye on the creepy buggars, but as he talked about them and answered these crazy kid questions, the spiders became less creepy to me, and to Campbell. Porter dove right in. He asked tons of questions, and then when Campbell finally let her curiosity get the better of her, she asked more than tons of questions. I think she may have driven Travis insane. He got a small taste of what I deal with every day:

Excuse me. How much venom do they have? Excuse me. How many spiders do you have? Excuse me. Do they bite? Excuse me. What are their names? Excuse me. I think the baby one is really cute. What is her name? Spidey? Excuse me. What do they eat? Excuse me. How old is this spider? Excuse me. What is her name? Excuse me, excuse me, excuse me...

My daughter is a total chatterbox, but at least she's semi-polite. With the excuse me bit. The first question of hers that Travis addressed was "how many knees does a spider have?" I chuckled a bit because spiders don't have knees. So I made eye contact with Travis to let him know that Campbell was so naive to ask about spider knees. How cute.

Travis answered Campbell's seemingly absurd question and explained in all seriousness that spiders have eight knees. And, better yet, if a leg gets caught in something, they can purposely separate at the knee to preserve themselves and then grow back the leg gradually with each molt. Huh? Yeah, that's what I was totally thinking. I learned today that spiders have knees! Wow!

Porter asked some really valid and well-timed questions. So between the two of them, we learned a lot. And then I asked some questions, too, like how he got into this whole mess. He chuckled a little bit and explained that he took his son to a reptile show about four years ago and ended up with his first tarantula, Rosie. I loved hearing how he just stumbled upon being the local spider man. He taught us about their warning signs...how they "kick their hairs." Porter was fascinated with that.

The spider with the knees that Campbell asked about was his first, named Rosie, because she's a Mexican Red-Knee (the official name to officially slam it home to me once again that spiders have knees). She was really beautiful, once you got to know her. According to Travis, her breed is one of the ten most docile tarantulas, and a great one to start with, if you're going to go arachnid. We even got to see her feeding.

[wpvideo moGc7fha]

There were others. L.P. was an abbreviation for his scientific name–it escapes me–as well as being a "little Potts," and he will someday be 12". Wow! He ate a cockroach right in front of us and spun some silk to make himself more comfortable while he ate.

[wpvideo 6icQIRkV]

And, then, there was Max from Argentina who was named after Travis' friend, Max, from Argentina. Max was huge. Impressive.

Campbell's favorite was the "so cute" baby one who hasn't been named, yet, because Travis wants to get to know her, first. Well, that's awesome. Campbell took it upon herself to attempt a name, but I think Travis is looking for something more original than "Spidey."

I am beyond thankful that my children and I had this opportunity to experience tarantulas up close. What was once creepy is still creepy, but not quite so much. Travis talked about how he can hold Rosie, and it made me want to hold her. And for the first time in my life, in the presence of spiders, I didn't have the urge squeal as if I was in a horror movie.

So I asked one last question, which, is of course, the ultimate FAQ: "Have you ever been bit?" His response: "Not yet. But I know it will happen." And it's worth it to him. And that is completely awesome.