Oh, to be a pet...

Oh, to be a pet


People’s animals are their best friends, their confidantes, their loves.

Housesitting is where you go into someone’s home, use their bedroom, restroom, eat their food, use their entertainment center, watch their DVDs, relax in their hot tubs, swim in their pools, use their computers and phones, drive their cars. Most importantly, a housesitter becomes a friend to their pets, feeds them, waters their plants, checks their mail, etc. Basically you transform into the person you are housesitting for.

It is fun watching some homes, and not so fun watching others.

I enjoy housesitting since it is always a welcome break from my reality — survivor style lifestyle.

A reality has hit me smack in the middle of my brain. These animals are living a better life than me.

I serve one cat mahi mahi and sweet potato twice a day, comb the cat and talk baby talk to it constantly. Another dog eats rotisserie huli huli chicken from Foodland and brown rice (I am always sneaking pieces of that dog’s food). And then there are the hippie vegetarian dogs and cats that have their organic mix of rice, potatoes, celery and carrots.

Then there is the pet pig that I am always cleaning its drool from the floor,  I clean up after they go number two and  always keep them clean and well groomed.

Many of these pets have their own rooms, or sleep in the owners’ beds in these mansions.

I am beginning to realize these pets live a better life than most of us.

The question is where do I sign up to be someone’s pet?