• "T" is for Trust

As a pet sitter, I deal in the commodity of trust. Trust is not easy to earn. Trust can be lost in a second.

Clients trust me to show up when I say I will and take care of their pets as they ask me to. They trust me to respect their possessions.

Some pets immediately trust everyone. Some need proof that a human is trustworthy. I can see doubt in their eyes: Will she yell at me? Will she hurt me?

I can't tell you how much I appreciate my clients' and my charges' trust. I work to earn it and I work harder to keep it. But when pets press my buttons, it's not always easy to keep calm.

At one client's, the dog barks when anyone leaves the house. It's a loud, high-pitched, sharp bark that can be heard a house or two away. It's not too bad if you make a quick exit, but my key often sticks in the door, as it did recently. Arf! Arf! Arf! I jiggled the key. He was inside, I was outside, but his bark was piercing. Arf! Arf! Arf! Arf! Muttering, I jockeyed the key from left the right. Arf! Arf! Arf! "Rover*! Hush! I'm still here," I stage-whispered, knocking on the window, despite the fact that I knew it would make things worse. Arf! Arf! Arf! Arf! With sweat dripping down my face, I gritted my teeth, cursed, and took a deep breath. The key didn't budge. Arf! Arf! Arf! "Rover! Shut up!!!"

I regretted the words the second they were out of my mouth. Some dogs would lose their trust of me if I yelled. Rightly so. Lucky for me, Rover isn't one of those dogs. As a highly independent breed, he often ignores his human parents no matter how loud they yell. Arf! Arf! Arf! Arf! Eventually, the key slipped out.

Rover greeted me as effusively as ever—Arf! Arf! Arf!—when I returned. Trust was intact. Still, I felt bad. I told Rover's human dad about my reaction to the incident. "Isn't it annoying when he does that? I'm always, like, 'Shut up, Rover!'" he said, shaking his head.

It scares me that I could lose a dog's trust. As a pet sitter, I want animals in my care to feel secure. And I want to live up to the trust that pet owners place in me. In Rover's case, I was lucky. Next time . . . well, I don't want there to be a next time.

*Names have been changed

• "S" is for Statistics (Yawn)

In my working days

The last few years I worked in the nonprofit world, there was considerable discussion of "metrics." We measured the reach, impact, and visibility of projects. Sometimes the criteria helped; sometimes it felt like busywork.

As a pet sitter, I manage several online sites, all of which give statistics. If I were so inclined, I could use them to measure the reach, impact, and visibility of my social media presence.

Gag me with a spoon.

That sounds way too much like work. I'd rather post photos of animals or articles or funny cartoons. At the same time, I look at my stats and think, shouldn't I learn something from them?

My Facebook page counts the number of people who Like me, the number who see a post, the number who click on a post, and the number who engage. These stats are delivered in colorful, peppy graphs I can manipulate with the touch of a button, which would make some of the people I used to work with very, very happy.

I check the purple line and balls (number of posts per day) on the timeline, and survey the hills and valleys of the green and blue lines. If a line pops up like a prairie dog it means people liked something. My web site for my pet sitting business and my blog have similar displays and info. Twitter can be heady. I have 285 friends, including one in China! One in Russia! When I Tweet something funny and someone Retweets it, I feel validated. (I know, it's pitiful.)

Ostensibly the purpose of these sites is to attract pet-sitting clients, but I'm not going to pet sit in China or Russia; most people who Like my Facebook page are flesh-and-blood friends.

At work I could scratch my creative itch. (And you thought I didn't like any part of my job!) Now social media feeds my urge to write and take photos, and occasionally get kudos. It's a great way to get and pass along information on the pet industry. Most of all—it's fun. Measure that!

• "R" is for Recall

"Recall" is the fancy term dog trainers use when they ask a dog to come. When I was growing up we called it "come".

When I was growing up no one took their dog to a trainer. If a dog pee-peed in the house you rolled up a newspaper and swatted the dog on the behind (in the South, put the emphasis on the first syllable: be-hind). We had newspapers because there was no Internet. In Fairfax, Virginia, we got two newspapers a day. The Washington Post reported what went on the previous day and overnight; the Washington Star filled you in on what had occurred that day.

When I was growing up some dogs obeyed and some didn't. The bad dogs lived their entire lives in fenced-in yards. These snarling, irritable beings barked incessantly at children. The situation would have been better if we children walked on the other side of the street, but, confident in the knowledge that we were safe, we preferred to antagonize dogs. Owners did nothing but yell at those dogs. Those dogs never went to a trainer.

No one told us our collie, Sheba, had "separation anxiety" or "inappropriate elimination." We just shut her upstairs when we left so she would pee on the linoleum steps and not the living room rug. "That god damned dog!" my mother fumed when Sheba ate a couch cushion. Instead of asking a dog trainer to rid Sheba of her "destructive behavior," we thrust her nose in the flaky foam and swatted her with a newspaper.

When I was growing up, no one bragged about getting a dog at the pound. That's just what you did. Hardware stores sold leashes. Grocery stores and feed supply stores sold dog food. How my parents, especially my father, would have laughed at the idea of socialization classes for puppies or canine hydrotherapy.

It wasn't the good old days: it just was.

I'm glad that today we know better than to stick a dog's nose in urine or to swat it with a newspaper. I'm glad that animal shelters are accountable and that more and more people emphasize the importance of animal rescue. When I worked for a veterinarian, in 1978, we put to sleep an otherwise healthy two-year-old dog because there was no cure for hip dysplasia. Now veterinarians achieve miracles. And dog owners can find advice on the Internet or get help from an animal trainer.

• "Q" is for Questions from a Pet Owner

If you own pets, you've probably read articles such as Finding the Perfect Pet Sitter. But pet owners have other concerns—and who better than a pet sitter to answer?

Q) Do I need to buy food or drinks for the pet sitter?
A) I bring my own. I don't expect anyone to leave food, but it's nice when they do. Some clients mention specific foods, which means it's OK for me to eat those foods. (e.g., "In the refrigerator are tomatoes from my garden and leftover Chinese food.") Some tell me to help myself to anything.

Q) I'm worried about a pet sitter having access to some of my personal things.
A) As we toured his home, one client waved a hand at the room that served as his office. "You probably won't need anything in there," he said. Translation: He did not want me to go in the office. You can also lock rooms or move valuable or personal items to a safe. In case of emergency, make sure a neighbor has a key to a locked room.

Q) The pet sitter wants to bring his computer and log on using my WiFi password. Will he be able to access my computer files?
A) I couldn't—I don't have the technical know-how! But yes, I think someone can access your files. Have your service provider set up a guest account with a different password than yours.

Q) I'd like to hire a live-in pet sitter, but the thought of someone sleeping in my bed sort of creeps me out, and I don't have a guest room.
A) I've slept on couches, fold-out couches, and even my own inflatable mattress. If none of those options would work, you can ask sitters to bring their own sheets.

Q) I liked the pet sitter I interviewed, but she's young. I'm worried she may invite friends over for a party.
A) Say directly, "I would rather that you, and only you, are in the house while I'm away. Will that pose a problem?" Ask one of your neighbors to keep an eye on the house or even drop in unexpectedly.

Q) The last time I had a house guest they ordered $50 worth of Pay-Per-View TV. How can I politely ask the pet sitter not to do that?
A) "You understand that not all movies or channels on my TV are free. Some movies can cost of much as they do in the theater. I have more than 100 free channels; I imagine that should be enough."

Q) Do I need to tip the pet sitter?
A) I've seen this question a few times, with answers both pro and con. Personally, I don’t think it’s necessary. What I find far more valuable is if a pet owner writes a testimonial, agrees to act as a reference, or passes my business card along to friends.

Do you have a question? I hope you'll leave a comment!

• "P" is for Photos

My best shot—Arlo (left) and Darcy

Photos of pets, that is. One way I try to distinguish myself as a pet sitter is by shooting photos and videos of clients' animals.

Sometimes the task is big. I made a daily blog of two shelties for clients who went on a month-long cruise. Although they said the blog was one of the highlights of their cruise, I think they were being very polite.

Sometimes it's a piece of cake. I usually post photos and updates on Facebook or Twitter, which serves two purposes: Clients see that their pets are healthy and happy and, hopefully, the exposure draws new pet sitting business.

Many huzzahs later, I started to think my pictures were hot stuff, so hot that I agreed to photograph two Cavachons to illustrate a book. Boy, was I in over my head.

Oops . . .

I'd read the book and listed shots that would be helpful, but my plan was no match for reality. Bubbly, exuberant, sparkling—however you choose to describe the two dogs, they wiggled and moved nonstop. When they ran on a zip line, all my shots were blurry, even with flash. With no fenced-in area in the yard, the owners quickly cordoned off a space with baby gates. I was nervous and the dog owners, one of whom wrote the book, were nervous and exhausted.

It wasn't the fault of my camera, the Canon PowerShot A560. Yep, I'm one of those people too impatient to read the owner's manual! After the photo shoot I found several features that would have helped. After the shoot.

I have a lot to learn. Oh, wait—could you hold that pose?

• "O" is for Orange

Orange is the color of Prevention of Cruelty to Animals Month—April—sponsored by the ASPCA. If you see people on the street in orange T-shirts, as I did last year, they're probably spreading the word about this initiative. My 2011 post on the subject mentions ways you can take action.

You don't have to look far for examples of animal cruelty. A woman contacted me on Twitter several months ago. Every day she drove by a dog sitting in its yard, but never saw people in the yard. She assumed the dog had food and water, but still, it didn't feel right. Should she do something?

Report it to the local animal welfare agency, I Tweeted. I'm not sure there's anything wrong, she replied; her gut told her the dog was being neglected. Call animal welfare, I wrote. They'll check into it—that's their job.

In a much more serious incident, my stomach sickened when I read a news story about a drunk man who cooked his roommate's hamster in a skillet. I felt overwhelmed with grief, especially since I've owned these gentle rodents for nearly a decade.

It's easy to feel defeated at the scope of animal neglect and cruelty. In recognition of this, Be the Change for Animals highlights one issue a week. Its goal is to "ignite and accelerate the change we can make as individuals at a pace that doesn’t overwhelm."

I hope the woman who Tweeted me took action. I hope she changed that dog's life. That's how it can happen: one small action at a time.

Yours.

• "N" is for Neatness

Before

After

If my mother were alive she would tell you I'm messy. She would be right. When I come home I shuck off my coat, kick off my shoes. Where they land, they land. Mornings often find me staring at the previous night's dishes, soaking in the sink. I lose my TV remote under magazines or bills.

But when I pet sit, I try to keep up the house to the homeowner's standards, and most homeowners are neat. I do this for two reasons.

Neighbors occasionally drop by and homeowners can come home early. I think of it a surprise inspection, and I want to pass.

The other reason I clean up while I'm pet sitting is that it clears my mind. When the house is messy I feel scattered. I straighten up room by room, and as I do so, I check off a mental list. Make the bed, hang up my clothes, put my shoes in the closet so the puppy won't chew them.

Alongside my mental cleaning lists, another list always arises: what I can do for the animals. Try a different chew toy so Teddy won't get bored. Instead of our usual noon walk, take Coco downtown to the courthouse for a walk and a picnic. Put fresh water and an ice cube in the water bowls. Sit on the floor and stroke Lily for awhile; she's feeling left out because I've had to pay so much attention to Shelly.

If I hadn't experienced this phenomenon only yesterday, I might think this is a lame post. I have no clue why my mind works this way. What I do know is that the animals benefit. That's what counts. What are your challenges, as a pet sitter? Do you struggle with being neat? I'd love it if you would comment.

Now, where is that remote?

• "M" is for Mrs. Emma

I am in love with Mrs. Emma, who is a bit of a You Tube star. Her family devised a winning formula to showcase their curvaceous, blonde beauty. Each video begins with Mrs. Emma's squeaky, yet husky, voice:

"Hal-loh."

Mrs. Emma is European, so there's a smidgen of an accent. Then her catchy theme song follows. "Da - da da dan - da da dan - da da da da dan da . . ." The videos are amateur, but this lady is more in tune than most of the Real Housewives.

If you don't believe me, check her out for yourself—she's so cute. Mrs. Emma can even swim! After a workout she usually takes a nap. What—you don't think Mrs. Emma is really singing? See for yourself. She's no Milli Vanilli.

And now, as this post closes, a smooth jazz riff carries us into the sunset. Auf wiedersehen, Mrs. Emma.

• "L" is for Love Isn't Enough

Just so you know? If you want to be a pet sitter, love isn't enough.

"I'm sure you're a great pet sitter, Emmy. You love animals so much." I smile when people say this, but don't usually tell them what I'm thinking: Pet sitting takes a whole lot more than love.

Please, some of you are thinking. It's not rocket science. No, thank goodness, it's not. But if you're thinking of pet sitting, you should know a few things.

• Do you know what to do if an animal is injured or gets sick? You are that animal's 911. Do you know animal first aid? Own a first aid book and kit? Do you know the route to the homeowner's vet? Do you know the emergency vet (because pets never get sick during business hours)? Did the homeowner sign a veterinary release form? Did you talk to the homeowner about how to handle a vet bill?

• If an animal goes missing under your care, you should be prepared. If you see the missing animal, do you know how to get it to come to you? Is the pet microchipped? Wearing its tags? Do you know how to make effective signs and flyers? Do you know who to notify?

• If there's a natural or other type of disaster, do you have an evacuation plan? Have you bookmarked a web site that explains the steps you should follow?

• Do you have a list of foods, household items, and local plants and flowers that are toxic to pets? Do you take any medications that animals can get hold of? Are they toxic to pets?

• A good percentage of the job of pet sitting is the relationship with the pet's owner. After all, the pets aren't the ones who pay you! Are you professional? Do you have good judgment? A pet owner is going to give you the key to their house—access to all their possessions—and entrust you with the care of a beloved (four-legged) member of their family. Are you trustworthy?

And, of course, love.

Will you love the animals that throw up or have diarrhea on the rug? Will you love the puppy that barks at 4:00 a.m. because he wants to chase the squirrel in the yard? Will you love the Rhodesian Ridgeback when she hogs the entire bed and growls—really growls—when you try to get in? Will you love the cat that escapes out the back door at bed time, when you're exhausted? When you finally catch her, will you love her when she thanks you with her claws?

At the time, all of these situations sucked. Looking back, yeah, I can say honestly that I loved those animals afterwards. I guess that's why I'm a pet sitter.

• "K" is for Kindness

My father

When my father lived in a home for the elderly, one of the men, a former colonel, relentlessly taunted another man. Long-ago accomplishments omnipresent in his mind, the colonel berated the poor fellow for being uneducated, blue collar, and shorter in stature.

Sick of the bullying, I spoke firmly to the colonel one day. "Anyone can apply themselves in school or rise in the workplace, but the true test of a man is his ability to be kind." (Yeah, I climb on a soapbox when I'm angry.)

You guessed it: Instead of recognizing my wisdom, the colonel completely ignored me.

Despite my self-righteous anger, I think I was right. It takes wisdom, compassion, and—at times—restraint, to be consistently kind. One of my favorite fictional characters is Atticus Finch, the father in To Kill a Mockingbird. From his children to the mentally challenged neighbor to the Black community, Finch treated everyone with unfailing kindness and respect.

Me and Honey

As a pet sitter, kindness and patience are two of the most important attributes I can bring. The first thing I do during any pet sit is sit quietly with the animals. Some are nervous, but if they allow it, I stroke them. In a soft voice I explain that I'll be staying with them for a few days. Everything will go on as usual. I won't let anything bad happen to them. Their "mom and dad" will come back soon.

Note that I say that kindness and patience are the two of the most important attributes I can bring. Kindness is my natural inclination. But after several days in someone else's home, I can have moments of frustration. I can't find a can opener. I run out of clean underwear. A dog scratches me with long nails. The cat wants in, the cat wants out. In. Out.

It's more important than ever—then—to be kind. Animals have a reason for everything they do. Everything. I'm not a trainer, so I can be clueless about why an animal behaves as it does, and it's not my responsibility to change its behavior. My responsibility is to be kind.

Isn't it funny that it all comes down to the Golden Rule? Treat others as you would like to be treated. With kindness.