Moving to New York City in 1992 with aspirations of becoming an artist, I found myself embarking on an unexpected career path. My half-sister, Moira, a seasoned dog trainer and owner of a pet-care referral service, convinced me that walking dogs would be a more engaging way to earn a living than the dishwashing and coffee-serving jobs I’d previously held. Under her tutelage, I learned the essentials of dog handling, from leash techniques and canine body language to breed-specific behaviors and, crucially, responsible clean-up. This initial foray into the pet-care business, facilitated by Moira’s referrals from veterinarians and word-of-mouth, was meant to be a temporary solution, a way to support my artistic pursuits. However, over time, it evolved into much more than a stop-gap measure. The deep fondness I developed for the dogs under my care, combined with the sheer longevity of my involvement, transformed it into a significant part of my life. Still, I grapple with the inherent cultural perception of dog walking as a low-status service-sector job, a sentiment that fuels a considerable sense of ambivalence within me.
In the early days, Moira was instrumental in securing my clients, and I accepted every assignment, even those involving challenging personalities like Eva, a friend of Moira’s. Walking her teacup poodles, Brownie and Silver, for several months provided invaluable on-the-job training. Eva, however, proved to be a demanding and exploitative client. After I had cared for her poodles and two cats during her father’s funeral, Eva refused to pay me, citing my own “shabby living situation” as sufficient remuneration for staying in her luxurious apartment. Feeling exploited, I penned a strongly worded letter, the sentiment of which I can still recall: “You make me feel like a cog in a machine.” Eva’s displeasure was palpable, leading to a heated phone call where she vociferously expressed her dissatisfaction with my letter. Fortunately, my client list soon grew, allowing me to professionally distance myself from Eva. Moira supported my decision, emphasizing that peace of mind was a valuable commodity.
Building Trust and Navigating the Unforeseen
Beyond fostering a rapport with the dogs, a significant emotional investment goes into maintaining the myriad relationships I’ve cultivated over the years. As a visible presence in the community, I engage in small talk with neighbors, building superintendents, and clients in various shared spaces – lobbies, stairwells, elevators, sidewalks, streets, and stoops. These interactions, while not explicitly part of the job description, evolve into a spectrum of relationships, ranging from polite acquaintances to genuine friendships. This aspect is crucial, as it extends beyond the mere act of walking dogs to establishing myself as a trustworthy individual of integrity. While the mechanics of dog walking can be taught, this crucial element of trustworthiness is built over time and through consistent, reliable conduct.
Despite a generally positive reputation among colleagues and clients, there have been regrettable mishaps. I once inadvertently allowed a closing apartment door to slam on a golden retriever’s tail, an incident that still haunts me years later. On another occasion, while entering a dog run, I opened the inner gate to avoid a puddle, inadvertently allowing a nearby greyhound to bolt into the park’s larger, unfenced areas. The owners, though understandably concerned, were gracious, their primary concern being the safe return of their pet. Luckily, their dog ran home and was waiting for them.
Navigating Challenging Situations and Profound Loss
A particularly poignant experience involved Daniel, a client and a closeted corporate attorney, and his Shiba Inu, Valentina. Daniel’s demanding work schedule meant Valentina spent many solitary hours alone. To address Valentina’s perceived neediness, Daniel acquired a puppy, Ariel, a white Shiba Inu. However, Ariel, having grown up in the country, exhibited a strong aversion to city noises and stimuli, making walks a constant challenge. Seeking a less strenuous approach, I opted to take Ariel to the dog run at Washington Square Park, hoping she would engage with other dogs. Unfortunately, Ariel was not well-socialized, and her unfamiliarity with the unregulated environment of a dog run proved disastrous. As I was about to leash her, she squeezed under the gate and bolted into the street. Despite a frantic chase, Ariel was struck and killed by a truck. The profound grief and self-blame that followed were immense. Though Daniel forgave me, the incident underscored the critical importance of understanding canine behavior and the devastating consequences of honest mistakes. It’s a mistake I am far less likely to make today, thanks to a deeper understanding of canine body language and behavioral psychology.
Walking Sammy, a yellow Labrador, for thirteen years, provided a different kind of lesson, one related to class and privilege. Her owners, Phil and Beth, were affluent professionals whose lifestyle contrasted sharply with my own. An argument between them led to me taking Sammy out, a situation that revealed the underlying marital discord. Following Phil’s infidelity, Beth and I developed a closer bond, spending significant time together in her apartment. While Beth occasionally flirted, any romantic involvement was out of the question due to our age difference and differing needs; she sought companionship, while I required employment. Beth’s escalating demands for Sammy’s care, including insisting on hand-cooked meals, eventually led me to quit. Sadly, Beth never acquired another dog after Sammy’s passing, opting instead for multiple boyfriends.
Embracing Legacy and Moving Forward
The passing of my sister Moira in 2001 marked the end of an era. She had been my guide to New York City, and her absence left an irreplaceable void. Her prolonged battle with breast cancer, extending far beyond her initial prognosis, was a gift, yet the inevitability of her death, long accepted, made full appreciation of that extended time difficult. For years, I avoided her former neighborhood, the pain of her memory too acute. A ritual of pausing and genuflecting at her building offered a semblance of remembrance, but life’s relentless forward motion gradually eroded this practice. Today, I can pass her old building without the immediate pang of grief, though the memory of her enduring impact remains.
The world of dog walking and pet sitting has been more than just a job; it has been a profound journey of learning, connection, and resilience. It has taught me the importance of trust, the complexities of human relationships, and the deep emotional bonds we form with our animal companions. While challenges and heartbreaks are inevitable, the unwavering affection of the dogs and the gratitude of their owners continue to make this path, in its own unique way, deeply rewarding. If you are considering a career in pet care or need services for your own furry companions, exploring options for dog sitting jobs for 17 year olds or learning about starting a dog walking and pet sitting business might be beneficial steps. Additionally, understanding dog walking and sitting insurance is crucial for any professional in this field.
References
Original article content.
