Best things in life come in small packages!

Thanksgiving seems YEARS ago, all that stuffing and turkey (deep fried this year, I might add, YUMMY) pies and potatoes, friends and family both four legged and human. This Thanksgiving I started a new tradition with my friend Diane of not only hosting our yearly dinner together, but running a half marathon. And a LOT of furries needed a LOT of attention, Dee's Dogwalking was Busy with a capital B.


The days leading up to T-day were a blur of "run run run train train train turkey dogs turkey oil turkey pick up pie pick up keys where is the pup oh there he is run run run don't forget to check the lock don't forget to pay the girls don't forget the LATE ADD ONS)

And it is the LATE ADD ONS that nearly push me over the edge every year. The folks who call Tuesday night at 8pm for Thanksgiving day service. Or Wednesday morning for WEDNESDAY NIGHT service. "Say no", folks with civil minds and healthy abilities to set boundaries suggest. You can figure out what I normally say....and why by the Saturday morning after Thanksgiving I have resigned myself to sleeping in my dog walking clothes and am eating plates of turkey in the car while driving (T-day 2009 - YES, I DID THAT).

Let's go back to the Wednesday before Thanksgiving - I was late (of course) to my daughter's Thanksgiving day celebration at her pre-school. I was pulling in to my garage and had 3 minutes to put away groceries, change clothes, wipe dog saliva off of my face from puppy kisses, and leave again. My phone rings - I am immediately on edge...A LATE ADD ON, I assume. I sigh, swear I will let it go to voice mail but I can't I can't I can't and pick it up, berating myself for being weak.

To my very pleasant surprise, it was the owner of very special clients, pups Gracie & Darby & kitty O'Malley. I had been somewhat surprised that they hadn't booked a T-day night visit, as had been their tradition in years past, so I had saved a slot for them and was ready to roll with their request - or so I thought.

Alan, one of their owners, told me that they needed to cancel their daily visit for that afternoon (odd - not what I expected, but ok still). I started rushing again, changing clothes while holding the phone in the crook of my shoulder, listening with half an ear and figuring out mentally how I could reach Super Associate Kris, who was slated to visit them within the hour, in enough time to head her off at the pass.

Then Alan said something along the lines of "bad news"...and he got my full attention again. He told me that O'Malley cat had passed away the night before. I stopped, I dropped a few f-bombs. I asked how his wife, Meggan, was doing with it, how he was doing with it, how it happened.

I said I was sorry - and we sort of exchanged pleasantries and said "goodbye".

I sat for a moment on my bed, then quickly thought of my daughter waiting for me at her school and rushed rushed rushed again. My husband met me at the school and I told him, when I saw him, that I had "lost a client". He asked, in a quasi logical, overly male sort of way "on your watch -- don't you think you should go look for him"? I said "no, not a DOG and not someone I'm caring for...a cat, O'Malley cat, the Hood's cat - he died". He looked at me blankly, I could tell he had NO idea what I was talking about - then he turned his sensitivity chip on and said "sorry dear". I gave him a pass on this one, chalked it up to him feeling the pull of the small Proeller waiting for us inside, and pushed it all to the back of my mind - again.

But more on O'Malley - he had been ill for quite some time with tummy issues that no one, I gather, could pinpoint the source of. His owners are great people who went to some length to figure it out, but to no avail. Sometimes he would eat, sometimes not. Sometimes he could "make it" to the litter box, sometimes not. Sometimes when I came to walk Gracie and Darby, he would come downstairs and howl at me, as if he wanted to come with. He would walk us all to the entrance way and stand there, looking out of the glass door, as we walked down the street. He would still be there when we got back. Then he would howl at me more, sort of bitching at me for leaving him behind.

O'Malley liked to drink running water out of the faucet. If you came into the House of Hood, and it was a good day for him, O"Malley would bolt down the stairs and pounce over to the sink area, then meow until you turned on the faucet for him. When he was done, he'd give a quiet meew, graciously, so I could turn it off again (I think - either that or he was just summarily dismissing me!)

O'Malley wanted to have treats whenever the pups did. At the end of a walk, if I handed them out to Gracie and Darby, I better have one for O'Malley. As his tummy issues worsened, there were times that he wasn't allowed to partake, in those cases he would enjoy licking the coating off of animal cracker - then of course he would HOWL (aka, bitch at me) for not letting him bite it.

One afternoon immediately following Thanksgiving, I was walking a 127lb great dane mix named Jake, a mild mannered boy (thank GOD), and was getting somewhat frustrated because he wasn't minding me at all - so NOT like him. He wasn't paying attention to my commands, wasn't sitting when I asked him to, then in a moment of angst, I realized that I wasn't calling him "Jake" after all, I was calling him "O'Malley". Then it hit me, you can rush through your emotional "stuff", bury it, not take time to deal with it, but one way or another, it's going to rise to the surface, so have a good cry and just feel it.

But of course, I didn't. The next day I had to get a Christmas tree and there was more stuff to do... and more pups running xmas present buying santa visits tree trimming ornament gluing
elf on the shelf hiding baking wine drinking aspirin taking bill paying pup walking ...you catch my drift...Sigh.

It took me until this past weekend (mind you, we are almost to Valentine's Day, now) to go back inside the House of Hood, sans O'Malley. I had managed to assign Gracie/Darby duties to Super Associates Lisa & Kris - they love the girls like I do. Any drive by's I did were quick drop offs done in the foyer...no full entry at all. It was a late night visit, and although the Gracie & Darby were happy to see me, and I them, it was tough. Made tougher I'm sure by the fact that I should have mourned sweet O'Malley cat a full 4 months ago.

So the pups and I took a long walk in the cool air, and I thought about Malley and asked the girls (yes, I talk to my clients) how they were doing without him. I think that if they could have replied, they would have said that their life is great - and that they would suggest that no one ever underestimate the effect that a creature so small can have on your life. The value of a "being" should never be determined by their size or species alone. And I would, of course, agree with them wholeheartedly.

"Please, ignore the mess..."

This is one of the phrases I hear most from new clients, old clients, perspective clients. These words more often than not come out of the mouths of those with absolutely spotless homes, clean in a way that my own family will never ever see. Even if there is clutter, unwashed dishes or the like, I REALLY DON"T NOTICE. Seriously.

When I go on a visit, my gaze reaches as high as the tippy top of a pup's head, rarely any higher than that. Of course, I peek around to make sure that there have been no chewing incidents, and my nose is super sensitive to smells b/c I'm on "accident alert", but otherwise there could be a dead body simmering on the counter in a gigantic crock pot and I wouldn't notice...unless it smelled...and it probably would...I digress.

There was a time, however, that I noticed, and big time, and the result has me in a moral quandary at the moment: this is how the story goes...

A couple of years ago, I went to the home of a potential new client who needed care for his several cats (3) and dogs (2) while he and his wife went overseas. He was leaving the following day - the relative that was to care for his brood backed out at the last moment, and he was in a bind. On the phone, he sounded nice enough, was in my coverage area, and we had a slot available, so no problem...or so I thought.

When I arrived at his home, I wasn't allowed to view the full lay of the land. "We're in the process of moving some things around" he said. "It will all be in order before we leave". So we stayed in the dining room. He described to me where the food dishes were (in the kitchen), where the litter boxes were (in the basement). He brought all of the cats to me...and the dogs were super friendly, introducing themselves when I walked in the door.

For a moment, I thought the situation was a bit odd, but I chalked it up to last minute travel stressors and packing hell. I've experienced both and I know it can be rough. So, I didn't press to actually SEE the litter boxes and SEE the food set-up in the kitchen. To coin a phrase "Big mistake...huge".

The next afternoon when I let myself in, I saw what was BEYOND the dining room...a really awful, hoarding hot-mess. Think along the lines of one of those "Hoarding, Buried Alive" episodes on A&E. Seriously.

There were piles of stuff, instruments, papers, clothing. Half eaten burgers and chalupas (or they could have been tacos) that must have been days old...empty soda bottles and moldy, crusty pots & pans in the kitchen. The litter boxes were, indeed, in the basement, but none of the three cats apparently used them, EVER, preferring an upstairs bedroom floor as their personal potty. And that bedroom floor/personal potty had not been cleaned out in eons, if in their lifetime.

The cats scattered and hid when I walked in the door, and as is my policy, I needed to make some contact with them each visit, even if they didn't want me to love on them or play. Of course, they always would hide over and beyond a pile of god knows what, that smelled like heck. I dug through mounds of food containers and shoes, records (yes, lp's) and coupon fliers to try to get a pat or two in.

The pups were ALWAYS happy to see me! So loving and so eager to go on their walkies. They didn't seem to mind the extreme confinement they lived in, and didn't bother the food that was left out (and had been for some time) in various parts of the home.

That first visit, I returned to my car, nabbed a pair of latex gloves that I had in my first aid kit, and carefully removed anything I thought might hurt them if ingested or played with.

The next visit, I brought my good friend Diane along, as a witness, and as a judge to help me decide if the animals were in danger and needed to be removed from the home. I was too shell shocked to trust my own judgement.

The third visit, I concentrated of spending as much time as I could with the pups outdoors, giving them fresh air and relief from their surroundings. I tried to catch the cats and put leashes on them, but you can imagine how well that went.

Each subsequent visit, I tried to make the home that much better, SAFER for the clan. I have a policy to respect an owner's surroundings, and not move or touch anything that I don't have to...yet, I couldn't seem to find the line on where to stop. Moving a pile of plastic bags/old cupcakes/crushed Christmas ornaments to get to a cat would expose a ball of grayish matter that could or could not be potentially toxic, so out it went with the trash...and so on and so on.

The end of the series of visits was around the corner, and I hadn't made a decision on whether or not to call the authorities and alert them to this "hoard-ish" situation. Finally, I decided to let it go. The pups and kitties, although living in a really tough environment, seemed healthy and happy. The owners left them more than ample amount of good quality food. They were up on their vaccinations, had no outstanding health issues that I could see. Lastly, would they end up in an even worse spot if they were removed by the county, possibly even euthanized?

Years have passed and whenever a client says "ignore the mess", my mind shoots back to that home. I think to myself "you have NO IDEA".

Today, I got a call from the owner of the above described "hoarding home" - he needs last minute services, again. On the one hand, the last thing I want to do on a weekend where Dee's Dogwalking is already booked to the gills is spend time in that environment - much less ask a superstar associate to do so. On the other hand, I desperately want to make sure that the situation hasn't gotten any worse, and that the pups still are happy, healthy, well fed and groomed - same with the kittens.

So, this is the dilemma that is ruminating through my brain today....not a ton of time to decide. Put on my hip waders, plastic gloves and dive in, or politely take a pass???

"Yes Oprah, I'm living my best life - BUT..."

...I should have stopped to get a business degree, first."

Yes, it's the most horrific time of the month for me. No my fellow females, not THAT time of the month, I mean monthly accounting & invoicing time for Dee's Dogwalking & Petsitting. Always done sometime between the 29th and 31st...generally the 31st at 11:50p.m., otherwise known as the LAST FRIGGING MINUTE POSSIBLE.

Let me go back to jump: I majored in play writing and broadcast journalism in college - for most of my professional life I worked in media, then in what can be described as either a really early mid-life crisis, or a wonderful wake up call on life's true meaning, I ditched it all to start my own dog walking company. What's missing here is any smidgen of a clue, whatsoever, on the mechanics of running a business, or any sense of accounting and/or money matters at all.

But hey, I didn't let that stop me!

The so-not-state-of-the-art home office I set up for myself to do my "bookkeeping" looks like something out of the show "Barney Miller" from the 70's. There's a wooden desk, lots of notebooks and sheets of paper strewn around. There's a stand-up metallic file cabinet, and a big board hanging on my wall where all the important stuff gets written so I will remember it. There is an "in-box" (yes, for incoming, important PAPERS) and an "out-box", also known as the recycling bin and/or trash can.

There are no typewriters like Wojo or Harris used on "Barney Miller" - but my computer can really be compared to one because it is so damned slow that I have to hit the keys very methodically, one at at time, in order for text to appear at all on the screen. If I make a mistake, screw it, the delete button doesn't work - there is no going back. Really, the only thing that makes my office any different from NYPD's 12th precinct is that there are females behind the desks (well one, me) and there's no 'pen' filled with wine-o's, working girls and muggers.

I do have a television in my "office" - anyone who has worked in broadcast media for any period of time probably suffers from the same disease I have of 'not being able to function without constant auditory & visual stimulation at all time'. Yes, this tv is most often tuned into Animal Planet, but there are occasional diversions, like "Teen Mom" re-runs, "Oprah" (of course, see above title) and today's run on AMC of all the 'Halloween' movies made, ever.

I like thrillers, but not horror. Yet Halloween 1-5 is helping distract me from what is pressing at the moment: blood chilling, terrifying, nightmare inducing accounting & invoicing, and for that reason alone these frigging movies might as well be Academy Award winning films, as riveted as I am.

So, non-business-degree-holding-Deanna continues to suffer, month after month, until around April 20th when my whole hot mess gets handed over to my Awesome Accountant, Andy.

Ever year he takes pity on me, helps me decipher my random writings on multiple notebook covers, and gives me "The Speech"
-"Really, you should get an accounting program, there are tons out there ..."(blah blah blah)
-"You could get more tax deductions if kept a ledger of..." (blah blah blah blah)
-"Did you use the excel spreadsheets I emailed you last year to keep track of..."(blah blah blah)
-"All you have to do is call the IRS and set up quarterly..." (SUPER blah blah blah blah blah blah)

My right arm, super Dee's Associate (and friend), Lisa, also tries to save me from my monthly pain by giving me awesome, practical advice that would help my business flourish immensely. Seriously, I would be edging towards Fortune 500 if I listened to her. She will say "Dee, when X happens, do Y!" And following the trend of Lisa's advice being 100% right, 110% of the time, she is correct. What she doesn't know is that anything requiring me to work more with math, whether my solar powered calculator is fully charged or not, just ain't gonna happen.

Speaking of Lisa, about the only thing that I make sure to get done is to pay the Associates relatively on time. Sometimes I think that if I didn't have payroll, the months would go by and my lights (or tv) would have to get cut off before I'd work up an invoice to a client.

So, all of this being said, 2011 may bring business course or two at Apex Tech, or the West GA equivalent of it, my way. Much to Awesome Accountant Andy's surprise, I am attempting to get all of my first quarter tax info done by mid Nov, which means I will only have to do the remaining 3 quarters by April (or May, let's be real here). Lisa and I picked up an IT guy at a dog show that gave me his card..he says he can help bring my computer system out of the 70's - now I just have to figure out what stack of paper it is buried under so I can call him.

It is now 5:48 on Halloween night. Yes, all client invoicing should be done within the next 6 and a half hours or so, but trick or treating calls, as does "Halloween Part 5". Clients, please forgive me when your invoices are a little bit late...AGAIN!

"Howl"oween time!

Fess up! Are you going to dress your pets up this year for Halloween? Have you done it before & are not afraid to admit that you paid more for a "Princess Pup" costume than you have to dress yourself and/or your kids?

Let's hear about your wackiest pet costumes, if you have pictures send them our way too & we'll post 'em! I'm going to try to dig up one of my 40lb dog, Buffett, smushed into a size SMALL bridal outfit (complete with veil)...All in good fun because the pups love it too, right???

What Do I Do When the Tornado Sirens Go Off???

"What Do I Do when the Tornado Sirens Go Off???"

This was the question I got from Dee's Associate Kris this morning, as tornado sirens echoed through Douglas County, the location of the vast majority of our mid-day clients.

The first thing that came to mind, and my subsequent response was "get to where you are safe until the sirens have stopped". A moment later I thought - "Wait, what pups can we get to and how quickly."

OK, obviously none of the Dee's Dogwalking team members are tornado chasers...and we have no death wishes. I saw that movie "Twister" and other than the idea of riding around in a pickup with the MOST attractive Bill Paxton, I found the whole concept REALLY unappealing. However, I knew that there were pups that would desperately afraid, that would soo welcome a reassuring hug from us, and if god forbid there were a disaster - could be in need of medical or other assistance.

But, how do you decide who to go to, when, and in what order...nearest pup to you, or one farthest away and work your way back in? Smaller dogs that may be MOST intimidated by the outside sounds, or the big boys that you know have issues with even a simple rainfall?

And the hardest part, how do you not look back when are leaving them at the end of the visit when you know they want you to stay, so your heart doesn't break & you can move on to the next cutie in need...?

Welcome to our new pet blog

Atlanta-based Dee's Dog Walking & Pet Sitting Service announces the launch of our new pet blog! Incredibly fun stories you'll have to read to believe! Plus each week we will bring you helpful tips on keeping your pet as healthy and happy as they can be! Stay tuned as we highlight the "Pet of the Week", latest products and trends to help give your pet the royal spoil, and answer questions that you bring to the table. Be sure to add us to your daily "must read" list - you and your pet will be overjoyed that you did.