Blessed rain and other good things

 Where we are 

One of these days I'll be back in circulation, but not quite yet

The second is for those knowledgeable European friends who exclaim oh but you Americans have a dry heat. In Arizona maybe. In NJ not so much.  

Blessed rain, yesterday evening, cleaning the air and the pollen off my car.  I can feel the difference in breathing and my eyes are less irritated. 

The indoor scallions are done, and now there's a colony of fungi. I expect David or Chris or someone will tell us what they are.

New credit card arrived. And they make it very easy to acknowledge receipt, put it in use. Why don't medical people use decent IT on their sites? Yes, I know, they're cheap. Credit card companies spend more and get better work. 

Meanwhile I can now update the various online people who use my credit card for regular donations. One worthy organization has been nagging me since April to update. Many emails. I finally said it's impossible until I get the new card, not even due for months. 

I also said I was thinking of discontinuing membership if they didn't stop harassing me. Whereupon they thanked me for my message and said that in accordance with my query, here was the date of my membership expiration!  Bring on the clowns.

The people actually doing the work of the org.  are wonderful, and the IT people are making them look aggressive and not very bright. 

Remember the missing check to the food pantry! It finally came back. Addressed to the same address as always, now with a big sticker applied by some bright spark in Trenton to say undeliverable, inadequate address. Oh well, at least it wasn't cashed.

Another concern, because of not driving for a few days, was whether my car would start. I tested it after the rain cooled the air a bit. It started, yay. With this car, not being driven much, it's been an issue.

And here's this morning, before the heat comes rushing back again 

Lovely Stella d'oro day lilies. Whoever developed this variety was no businessman. I bought one, thirty plus years ago, whose divisions have brightened two developments, numerous private gardens and a median strip in Trenton. Not much return to the horticulturist, huge ROI to the buyer.

I'm glad you enjoyed the animal tales, more some other  time. Yes, there were moments of excitement, usually from the humans, rarely the animals.  Client management is a big part of a petcare enterprise. Sometimes people would ask about how to start this kind of business because they got along better with animals than people. I had to explain that without people skills,  there's no business! Eighty per cent of the agita comes from the humans.

Happy day, everyone, here's hoping for minimal agita for you today.

Summertime, and animal tales

 So this is where we are 

There's a map with a ! right over my house.

Moving along to more weekendish thoughts, I was asked this morning about my long ago pet and plant care service.

I thought you'd enjoy, as a change from the state of the world, a few animal anecdotes. I had a flourishing service, visiting pets and plants in their homes, sometimes both, working seven day weeks, animals don't take days off! 

My older sister, never owned a business in her life, employed in corporatelandia, advised me to refuse to work weekends!  I explained that would be a fast track out of business. When live animals are involved, you attend. 

The court system even allowed me excuse from jury duty on that account. And when people say well, hire a backup, without the faintest idea how, oh well. Anyone with the insurance liability and bonding coverage I carried wouldn't be an occasional backup, they'd be in business themselves. 

Moving on to the animals. There was dear old Wellington, 21 years old, whose older brother had died at 22, in my care for three weeks while the owners were in Europe. They were sure he wouldn't live, left careful instructions about his body, complete with little container in the fridge, yes, that's what you do, and departed.

They were lovely people, very high strung, noisy, perpetual motion study, and the first few days Wellie just slept. I woke him to feed and use his box, then he gratefully went back to sleep. He was recovering from his owners, loved them dearly, and they wore him out.

The second week he was playful, getting on and off the sofa unaided, coming to meet me at the door. By the time the owners returned, he'd completed his rest cure. They called me in great excitement "We came in, expecting  to check the fridge for Wellie, and suddenly he was running to the door. Running!"  He lived another couple of years.

I've often thought owners, including me, are something for their pets to grapple with. We're all a bit high strung, wanting the best, reluctant to accept that sometimes that entails doing nothing.

Then there were the koi I fed, in a house which had a cat who let herself in and out via a garage window. She never bothered the koi pond. The fish were eager to feed and more than once one leapt up and attached himself to my finger! Bitten by a fish.

I've been bitten by a nervous rabbit, a v-shaped dent in my finger, just a pinch, nothing between friends. And there was dear Suzy the ferret, in a household of many pets, with a permutation of who could and couldn't encounter whom. She liked to ride in my sleeve while I did the rounds of amphibians, birds, cats and pet spiders.  She tried to come home with me more than once.

In fact, that was an occupational hazard, pets trying to stow away in my pockets when I left. Or jumping into the fridge, a specialty of tuxedo cats. I learned to check before I left. And to unplug small appliances owners had forgotten, after one tuxedo set the electric can opener going, luckily not getting a paw in its path. I wasn't moving fast enough for his requirements.

Then there were the cats whose owners assured me I'd never see them, too shy, here's a photo, oh wait, he's jumped on your head, how about that? And the cat whose owner said Kitty loved to drink from a  dripping faucet in the kitchen sink but was too old to jump up, would I mind lifting her? Of course not. Except that in the owner's absence she leapt up like a two year old. She'd got them well trained in serfdom.

I drew a lot of portraits on those visits. The pet business enabled me to support myself while making art, some free daylight hours and and endless changes of scene, with no humans talking at me. In fact a couple of petcare clients when they found out about my art life, took an interest,  attending openings, buying pieces, one arranging a corporate solo show for me. Unexpected bonuses.

I never mentioned art when I met clients, largely because a lot of people think artist=flake,  unreliable. They admitted this much later when I was established with them, and they discovered artist=focused, dependable. 

It's wannabes who run about with black berets and intense expressions. Real artists just want to get on with the work, and wear black when they're working with black blockprint ink.

That was an energetic period, twelve years of successful pet care and art. I couldn't do it now, good thing I don't have to.

Happy day everyone, and to all older sibs, this is dedicated to you

Dogs are not the only pets

For ages I've been meaning to write a bit about the petcare business years, and I haven't partly because it preceded cellphones, so no digital pictures. Also privacy issues. I had a lot of private information about people's home setups, families, and was careful to keep it safe.

So, text only here. I didn't even use my own street address at that time, used a PO box, because once people hear you work with animals it's only a matter of time before you find an abandoned dog leashed to your front door, or a box of kittens. People try to pass their responsibility to anyone who looks likely. Also I kept the files and keys secure that way. And I was bonded and insured, so owners didn't worry about exactly where I lived. After a while it was all word of mouth and a waiting list.

Onto happier things. I'd done a lot of work with pets one way and another, and had always had a full-time, for many years pretty high falutin, day job, so that I didn't rely on my art as an income. In the fine arts, it doesn't work for several reasons I can bore on about another time. 

Eventually I really needed daylight hours to work in the studio, so the petcare business was varied enough day to day, to do that.

Early morning , then noon, then late afternoon then late night rounds seven days a week, allowed day time artwork in between. Live animals mean only the occasional day off, when there just don't happen to be bookings. Yes, it was a lively life! 

Over the twelve years I took care of thousands of pets --multi pet households being a big feature -- and their humans.

One home had a dog, a cat, a ferret, dear little Suzy, who rode around in my sleeve while I tended them, fish, lizards, birds, mice and various other forms of animal life. There was a safe way of letting them have free  play, keeping natural prey safe from their predators. That house was involved!

Then there were the hapless owners and the hellbent dogs. Like the two friendly giant Schnauzers who tore off the front of my skirt greeting me at a preliminary meeting, while their owner wrung her hands exclaiming oh, the naughty, naughty dogs! I was holding on my skirt and suggesting she call them off. 

And tuxedo kitties, short hair, who all seem like smart kids always following their own plans. One jumped on the counter and started the can opener when I arrived, the owner having forgotten to unplug it before they left. 

While I was in the fridge in search of any opened cans, her brother jumped in and I just saw his tail vanishing as I closed the door. Good thing I saw. 

One of them used to try to leave with me, sneaking into my coat sleeve, maybe I wouldn't notice. But I learned to do a pre departure check at every house,  to make sure everything was unplugged, all occupants safe and accounted for.

Then there was Molly the German German shepherd, bred in Germany to two national champions, but kept as a pet. Her intelligence was off the charts. 

She'd play tricks on me. One time she stole a banana out of the fruit bowl, ate the contents and left the skin right where I'd step when I came in. I think she watched too many cartoons. Or she'd pretend to be stuck in her crate until I called her bluff and tilted it so she slid out, looking sheepish.

And another Molly, a huge Rottweiler who wouldn't get in her crate when I left until she'd got a kiss behind her left ear. The owners had left various treats to use to persuade her, which I didn't use, not being a big fan of food rewards, but she had a soft spot for a kiss! 

I could write an entire post on animals I've been bitten by, usually in mistake for food, or playing and they forgot I was a human. Dogs who nipped accidentally apologized elaborately, play bowing, licking the owie. The funniest was the koi, when I was feeding at the pond, who leapt up out of the water when I came in sight and attached himself to my finger as I was scattering food. No harm done.

Rabbits make a v shaped bite, as I found moving one to clean his cage.

Then there were the guinea pigs. Dear Rushette, who would take her little container of salad I'd organized and push it into her miniature house like a busy housewife coming home from shopping. I could hear her excited meeping as I put my key in the front door of the apartment.

There were odd alliances, too, like the big cat who loved to play with the family hamster. The hamster, normally prey,  would run about on the cat, take a nap, perfectly safe. 

Or the big golden retriever who had weaned her own AKC pups, off to new homes, then nursed a newborn mixed breed stray puppy her owner found dumped. I had noticed how bonded they were, and the owner explained why. It was inspired of her to set it up. Dogs don't worry about pedigrees.

When small animals were children's pets the kids were often very worried about leaving them, so I'd meet them and ask them for instructions, make notes and promise to be their pet's friend. I already had copious notes from the adults, about vets, diet, house security, all that, but this was separate. 

I'd always leave a voicemail message the day I started at any booking, so they'd be reassured all was well. 

After a few years I deleted dogs from the roster, to save my arms from damage from untrained dogs, largely, also to cut out the dawn and late night rounds. I gave loads of notice, but there was still weeping and wailing from owners who'd got used to the service.

Owners were another story, ranging from wonderful people to complete nutjobs, what else is new. But the animals were courteous and fun, and became great friends. 

People used to tell me they didn't like working with people, so maybe they'd start a pet business. I'd explain that unless they made owners happy there wouldn't be a business, since they made the bookings and paid the bills.

It was certainly the most strenuous and demanding twelve years' work I've ever done, and the happiest. 

On the theme of  anything is possible, I'm reading Elizabeth Strout's novel of that name, and thank you Mary, for reminding me of her. I loved the structure of Olive Kittredge and the sequel, and that episodic style is how this unfolds.

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It's written in her sparse prose, eloquent, not fancy, and you notice how the connections between characters and events unfold.  Highly recommended.