Who doesn’t love dogs? Their wiggly tails and happy demeanor, they are God’s gift to the world. On the other hand, dog parents are straight from one of Dante’s levels of hell.

I always thought I was fussy about my dog. I cook his food each week. When I drop him off at the pet resort (yes, pet resort), I make sure the staff has instructions to care for him.

But nothing could prepare me for the loonies I met during my dog walking days. One client and her friends were especially crazy.

The friend has booked me to walk her dog. Now the caveat included bringing her dog over to the friend’s house and watch their dogs too. This couple owned two Vizslas, one male and one female. For the full effect, remember to pronounce it as “Veeezsla.” Now when I first met them, they were fine and asked all the questions that you would expect from an owner. I met the dogs and they seemed to take a liking to me. I assumed everything was fine.

Then it got weird. Like calling me one evening, in a panic, to see if I was free to come back to their home before the visit. See, they didn’t think that their male dog had properly “welcomed” me into his home.

I know dogs are territorial, but this was a new one on me. So I agreed (I was getting paid too) to go over and reintroduce myself to the dog. Normally, this should have sent alarms off, but since they were my new clients, I thought they were just particular about their pups’ care.

So I arrive at their home, and we go over the feeding and care instructions again. Everything is fine there. We walked down into the basement (I know! Never go into the basement!) where the dogs have taken up residence.

Believe me, these dogs OWNED the downstairs. For two dogs, there were four water bowls, six dog beds in different spots, and two couches with blankets (in case the dogs didn’t want to lay on the floor). Did I mention they had a camera system covering the whole basement as well?

I sit on the couch with the male dog. God knows what’s going to happen at this point. I’m surprised we didn’t have a dog blood brothers ceremony. But I’m sitting there and the owners want me to pet the dog in front of her. She needed to make sure the dog accepted me into the family, and I’m sure to see I was petting her dog the correct way.

At this point, I want to book it out there. After a few minutes, she sees that everything is okay. We ready to leave and she turns to me, “Is it okay we call you Auntie Theresa. It’ll be better for the dogs?”

I should’ve run, but I was needing this job and the paycheck. “Sure,” I said. I regretted that decision. The next year would leave me saying, “What the fuck?” on a regular basis with these lunatic dog owners.

 

Ruff-in’ It is a series depicting my adventures in the dog walking world. I take you behind the scenes of crazy doggy mommies and obsessed pet parents. If you thought watching children was difficult, think again!